#like that’s the text i have wanted all of his other texts to be for 1.75 years
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Simon gets a message from reader while he’s on base. It’s a video. The thumbnail looks like a blurred image of a store isle
Once he has a moment to himself, he’s able to sit back and finally check out what you had sent.
The camera pans down to show yours and simon’s two year old daughter. She has half a mini chocolate muffin clutched in her little baby fist and chocolate smudges on her nose and bright pink cheeks. She’s standing, staring at something out of frame.
The camera is a bit shaky and Simon can hear you trying desperately to hide your laughter.
“Baby,” you say, “baby, look at me.” You bend down to bring the camera closer to your daughter, who only turns to look at you for a second before going back to staring at the same spot out of frame.
“Who is that?”
Your daughter raised one of her chocolate covered hands to point towards whatever it was that had been captivating her the entire video. “Daddy.”
Simon here’s more of your pained stifled laughter and the camera follows your daughter’s gaze, revealing a cheaply made Halloween grim reaper statue, with dusty purple robes, a plastic scythe, and a hilariously misshapen skull face.
He reads the accompanying texts that had followed the video.
[She just started saying “daddy daddy” over and over and it took me forever to figure out what she was talking about]
[for a second I thought, “oh is he here?”]
[Im so dense lol]
[she really misses you ]
[I miss you too]
The next text was a picture of your daughter fast asleep in her car seat. Now cleaned of chocolate, she had replaced her muffin with a giant plastic rat that she hugged to her chest like a teddy bear.
[she refused to leave without it]
Simon smiles. It had been a long time since he had a family. People who loved waiting for him to come home.
Your texts had been sent hours ago, and he felt bad about not responding all day.
[that’s unfair. My mask is made of much better materials]
[I miss you both too. If everything goes right I should be home by Monday]
[and don’t call yourself dense]
Simon thinks for a moment, something eating at him about that video
[I wish she didn’t know about the mask. I don’t want her to see me that way]
You respond quickly, making Simon feel worse about his delayed reply
[Dont worry about that honey. She’s only two, and I think she only saw you wear in mask once once or twice. She’ll forget in a month.]
[She doesn’t see you as anything other than her daddy]
[her daddy and her jungle gym]
[lol yes that too]
[Im sorry I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll try and call you tomorrow]
[ok Im heading to bed now anyway]
[goodnight I love you ❤️]
[goodnight I love you too ❤️]
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frosted kisses
pt. ii to texas sweet
summary: after some serious distance, a nightmarish evening at the miller household leaves you and joel closer than before.
tags: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, fingering, pulling out, missionary, almost oral, joel is a consent king, gentle!joel, soft!joel, proud dad joel returns, tommy is here, so are sarah and ellie, don't ask how old they are i really can't tell you, tension, sexual tension, kind of angst(?), realistic sex, reader is in a panic as usual, but joel is really sweet, kissing, neck kisses, biting, scratching, mention of joel's dad gut (yum), joel in a wifepleaser, use of darlin' and baby and honey, one use of good girl, praise kink (a little), takes place during july (texas sweet was in june)
a/n: thank you to my biggest cheerleaders @mochamadeleines and @pascalssbabyy <3 also thank you to everyone for being so patient for this sequel. i hope you all enjoy !! :]
wc: 7.6k (sorry :3)
It is way too hot outside to be doing anything but laying in an ice bath, yet here you are leaving at 9am for your shift. The walk to the bus stop isn’t bad, but it does mean you have to walk by Joel’s house.
Joel.
He never followed through on that promise of taking you out for dinner, but it’s only been a month since that night. The two of you had been friendly in passing, since it’s hard to avoid one another, but you can see the avoidance in his eyes. A little while ago you looked up when “neighbours day” was, remembering how he said to let him know. But, it turns out that’s all the way in May, and it’s currently July… So.
So you’ve been avoiding each other a little. That’s fine, it was a weird situation for the two of you to find yourselves in. You stared at Joel’s grey-blue truck when it rolled back down the street that night, the headlights flashing yellow on your walls. The hand resting on your chin still smelled like him, like his dick.
Honestly, everything on you smelled like him for a little while, your shirt especially, but also your skin. Joel wouldn’t leave you alone, even though he physically was. Watching him from your window started to become an obsession, seeing the sweat soak through his t-shirt when he’d mow the lawn on the weekends. You couldn’t stop watching him, remembering how needy he was.
Your achy need for him was a constant at night, only competing for dominance over your mind by wondering how needy Joel was.
Nothing could drive the memory of his whimpers and groans out of your mind, the throb of his cock in your hand, and the way his hands twitched and grasped at nothing when he came. It would attack you at random times throughout the day, especially when you were on the bus coming home from work. Most of your days are boring, repetitive. The same texts from your mom, the same job, the same… everything. Joel was the most exciting thing for you, but that was short lived. It was just one evening.
It’s kind of fucked up how you just have to move on, sweaty palmed every morning as you pass by Joel’s house. It isn’t even like he’s home when you walk by, he starts work at around 8am. You would know because Tommy’s truck is noisy as all hell, it works great as a last minute alarm.
Or at least he isn’t usually home.
“Mornin’ darlin,” calls Joel as you step off your porch.
His voice is just as warm and sweet as ever, like the sun today if it were kinder, but there’s an extra cheerful lilt in it. Turning your head, you see Joel still in his pajamas. It’s a weekday, so that’s odd, but what’s more odd is that he’s hanging balloons outside.
A light grey wife pleaser stretches around his torso, showing off his thick arms and shoulders. This is not something you’ve seen Joel wear before, but he must have slept in it if the plaid pajama pants are anything to go by.
It’s the polite thing to do to go over there and say hello, right? That’s what your mom would want you to do, to be neighborly. You’re not going over there to check him out. That would be crazy.
Crossing the grass from your house to his is easy, but spit is all caught in your throat by the time you get over to him. Jesus, are you drooling?
“Hi Joel,” you manage to reply to his greeting as he tapes another balloon up to the overhang of his garage, “what are the balloons for?”
He grunts as he twists to fix the tape, the balloon nearly falling on his head. The way he’s stretching up is making the wife pleaser stretch up, exposing the skin of his waist. Your fingers twitch, wanting to touch there again. It makes your mind spin, thinking about how your hands have been there, that he knows what it’s like to have you on him. An explicit secret that neither of you share. You wish he was facing the other way so you could see his tummy, the plushness of it was so comfy against your arm.
“S’for Sarah,” he finally responds, turning to face you.
And oh… oh that’s why he’s so damn happy. He had talked about it in passing a few times during the small talk you had made. Sarah’s birthday was in July and she planned on coming home for it, Joel was so bright everytime he talked about it. His smile is so much bigger when he talks about his daughters.
“Is she coming home today?” You ask, shifting on your feet. Joel nods, tearing off another piece of tape with his teeth.
“Uh-huh, pickin’ her up around noon. We’re doin’ a dinner tonight,” he says. You can see how his eyes are a little unfocused, excited. He sticks the tape to the knot of the balloon and starts to continue his sentence, but is cut off by the front door opening.
The sound catches your attention, your eyes flicking to the door. You didn’t see his truck in the driveway, but there’s Tommy Miller in all his glory.
You won’t lie to yourself, the Miller family clearly has good genetics. Tommy’s got these gorgeous waves in his black hair, and a charming smile too. But, he isn’t nearly as soft as Joel is. Not a player, but Joel’s been worn in by 2 daughters and a divorce, like a well loved plushie. Tommy hasn’t been worn in by anything, in fact he’s known for wearing things out. As much as you’ve heard the whispers at neighborhood events, the other Miller brother has never interested you. Tommy, of course, has shown interest in you once or twice. A few bottles in and he’ll talk to anything.
Today though, Tommy is behaving. He flashes you a kind smile, and nods.
“Hey neighbor-girl,” he greets.
You almost snort. You know Tommy knows your name, but he’s being weird. Did Joel tell him? Probably not. Do brothers share that sort of information? You’re getting sweaty again–
“Saw the flowers y’bought Ole Joel,” Tommy grins, “thought maybe his ex’d dropped by.”
Oh. Oh thank god. Thank god the flowers gave it away.
Joel snorts and then scowls at Tommy, shaking his head. He mutters something about you “having a name,” and suddenly all you can hear is the blood in your veins. A hot rush flies over you, but you’re flushed from the sun anyways. What difference will a blush make? It’s not that obvious.
Distracted with your anxiety around the two, you barely realize that Tommy is scolding Joel now.
“S’nice girl gave you flowers and y’ain’t even invited her to the dinner tonight?” Tommy scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. Your eyes flash to his arms and Jesus does being brothers mean you’re both built as fuck?
“Tommy,” Joel says, voice tight, “I was midway through a conversation with’er. Was just about to.”
They exchange a look you can’t really decipher. Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel curls his lip in response. Then, Tommy turns on his heel and goes back in the house.
The heat outside is already uncomfortable, but now you feel awkward. You didn’t realize that Joel would invite you to something. Maybe he didn’t even want to, he just didn’t want to look like an asshat in front of Tommy. Joel looks sheepish in his pajamas, downturned frown neutralizing to a softer smile. He breathes in to speak, but now you don’t want his invite.
“Joel,” you say quietly, “you don’t have to invite me. I’d hate to intrude on your family time with Sarah.”
You really thought that you’d want to speak to Joel after all this time, but this feels humiliating. A pity invite to his daughter’s birthday dinner? It’s not what you expected, or wanted. As much as you’d like to see Sarah, something about it feels wrong. What would you say?
“Hey, it's been awhile. How’s college been? Good! Aw, I’m glad. Yeah last time I saw your dad I jerked him off. Oh, you’re in STEM?”
No, that’s not what you want. He looks like he’s going to protest, but you have to shut him down. You’ve never really spoken to his other daughter, Ellie. It feels like a nightmare waiting to happen.
“I’m just your neighbor,” you wave your hand, as if you could make this go away.
Joel’s brows furrow, his mustache curling back downwards with his frown. Skittishly, his eyes flick away.
“I… I’d like it if y’came. Even if we’re just neighbors,” Joel says. He seems embarrassed about inviting you, a red hue glowing beneath the sweat on his neck.
Alone, in front of the garage, it feels like he’s under you again. Why is he so shy? So bashful? Something in you is frustrated. You’ve been waiting for a month for any scraps, anything more than neighborly chit-chat, and now you have to turn him down. Doesn’t he realize you’ve been waiting for him?
You don’t want to be just neighbors with this Joel, you want more. You want to know him more than just as “hot-single-dad-next-door.”
You want to know him the way you did when you were behind him on the couch.
But… Maybe this is Joel. You saw the pictures all over his house, and he runs a company with his brother. Family is clearly everything to him, and even if this isn’t a dinner-date like he promised, this is something more. It’s closer for him, this is his own version of pulling you in.
Besides, your mom would want you to say yes. It’s polite, right?
You concede to Joel’s wishes, as much as you want something else. He smiles really big when you agree, a shy “okay” leaving you. It’s not like you could ignore him anyways, not with the way his wife pleaser is stretched around him so… pleasingly.
He tells you that there’s a colour theme of black and blue, since Sarah wants everyone to match in the pictures. Joel starts to blab about what a good photographer she is, but you actually shut him down this time, so as to not miss your bus.
—
Somehow, standing on Joel’s porch is a lot worse than last time. You don’t have a bunch of flowers for your neighborly crush, or a set of hands to ease his back. All you have is the guilt in your gut for showing up at his daughter’s birthday dinner.
It took you almost 45 minutes to pick an outfit. He mentioned blue and black, but didn’t mention what shade of blue. Everything you had felt either too dressy, or was literally pajamas. Eventually you found something that worked, but now you’re in your own head. Will Joel think this is nice? Does Joel even think you’re pretty in the first place? You can’t remember, your mind is blanking.
Jesus, chill out. You’re going over for dinner, and this isn’t even about you.
Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you knock.
“I’ll get it!!” A voice yells from inside. Not Joel’s.
Tommy grins at you after he swings open the door. He’s done his hair back, instead of tying it back, and he’s wearing a blue and black, plaid, flannel. The Miller brothers seem to have a flannel for every occasion.
“Well helloo Neighbor-Girl,” Tommy greets. His smile is devious as he stands in the doorway.
Loud footsteps rush up behind Tommy and he’s suddenly being yanked out of your view by a hand.
“Christ, Tommy, leave’er alone.” Joel grunts.
He isn’t wearing a flannel, which surprises you. His usual casual clothes have been replaced by a nice, black, western shirt. The stitching across the chest is done in black as well. Not unlike Tommy, is his slicked back hair. It’s short still, but it looks good pushed back.
He tells you to keep your shoes on as he leads you to the backyard. You can’t keep your eyes off him as he and Tommy walk ahead of you. That black shirt, stretched across his back, the curls that lick upwards where his hair isn’t slicked. God, he looks stupidly good.
The house looks about the same. Same couch where you jerked him off, same table where the flowers used to sit, same pictures of his family on the walls. Everything feels different. Why doesn’t it look different?
Finally your eyes reach the backyard, and it looks magical. Various lights have been set up to create a relaxed atmosphere, with some comfortable lawn furniture set up on the deck. The barbecue is clearly cooking something, and Tommy walks to it automatically.
Sarah and Ellie seem to be giggling to themselves, hunched over in secrecy. The sisters whisper to one another, but part once they see you.
“Hi,” Ellie says immediately, her bright eyes looking at you excitedly. You greet her in return, then wish Sarah a happy birthday.
She’s wearing a matching shirt to Joel’s, which is adorable. You know for a fact that Joel wouldn’t dress up past a button up or flannel for most occasions, meaning Sarah probably begged him for this. Even the wash of their jeans are the same.
You’re just about to strike up a conversation with the two girls when Joel comes up behind you and squeezes your upper arm gently.
“‘M sittin’ over there, if you’d like to join,” he motions to an outdoor couch identical to the one Sarah and Ellie are sitting on.
It’s close enough that you could go back to talking with the girls, but once you’ve sat down beside Joel, they’re back to giggling.
—
It feels like everybody knows.
This fear from earlier has manifested in front of your eyes, this awful anxiety growing. You could barely finish your food, even though it was delicious. Your mouth is dry all the time, you can’t stop drinking water. You hyperfocus on every little action you take, feeling crazy,
Tommy has been staring at you like he’s holding a secret, his eyes seem to say “I know something you don’t,” and every time you turn your back Sarah and Ellie are giggling again. For them, you try to cut some slack. Ellie is a teen, and Sarah isn’t a lot older than her, they’re young girls, of course they’re giggling. It’s Tommy who’s making you anxious, especially with the scolding scowls that Joel keeps sending him.
The conversations are fine once you stop eating, mostly with you listening and observing the dynamic in the family. Tommy talks about this recent client he and Joel have been working with as you all eat cake, but it’s hard to focus when it feels like everybody knows what you did.
Joel seems to notice this anxiety over the course of the night, looking at you with mild concern a few times. He even asks if you’re alright at some point, holding the “darlin” for once, and you just tell him you had a rough day at work. Total lie, the only rough thing about this day is how you feel like you’re going to throw up all your food anytime someone in his family starts to perceive you.
Later in the evening, Joel rests his hand on your knee when he reaches for his beer, and you flinch. He seems caught off guard by this, but luckily nobody else notices. His eyes are apologetic as he looks at you, all brown and sappy.
Shame is burning in your veins. He’s invited you here to spend this special night with his daughter and family. He's been so kind to feed you too, but now you’ve made him feel weird too. It feels like your anxiety is leaking out of your pores, a haze of guilt clouding your mind and flooding his. Joel hasn’t seemed bothered at all tonight, or at least he hasn’t shown it.
But there he is, accommodating you as he leans a little closer and asks;
“S’gettin’ late. I could walk y’home.”
There he is, there’s your Joel. Your Joel, the one who you know as a caring man. In any other situation this would feel like someone politely requesting you leave the party early, but not with Joel. He’s conscious of your emotions, and he can tell you’re too overwhelmed to be here anymore. There’s your sweet boy, reeling you in before it gets to be too much.
You only nod in response.
It’s a few more minutes before you get out of there, with Tommy and Ellie stacking copious amounts of leftovers for you onto paper plates, lidding them with tin foil. You use this time to talk a little with Sarah, asking about her time in college. She’s happy to share with you, and you can see Joel in her. She has the welcoming energy, the same warmth in her that pools in her eyes. Even without the outfits they would match.
Ellie, however, must be spending too much time with Tommy. They both wear shit eating grins as they hand you the stack of plates stuffed with leftovers, with Tommy asking you to “Come back anytime.”
Blood rushes to your face fast, and you toddle off to the door quickly after saying thank you.
—
The air on the porch is cooler, but your adrenaline is making you run hot. You want to stop sweating, but all the looks and giggles and comments from the night are running through your mind repeatedly. What did they know? How did they know? Joel wouldn’t tell them anything like that, would he? Thank God you didn’t stay long enough to be in those pictures that Sarah wanted to take.
The front door thuds shut a moment later. Joel’s steps fall heavy behind you, then he’s beside you. He’s barely touched you tonight, and even now he keeps his distance. You’re glad for it, you couldn’t have handled it anyways.
You both walk the short distance to your house, using the pathway rather than cutting through the grass like you usually do. It feels like you should be enjoying these extra seconds of time with him, but all you feel is embarrassed.
He breathes in the cool air of the summer night through his nose, chest puffing, then blows it out.
“I am so, so, fuckin’ sorry,” he says.
It takes you off guard immediately. You felt like you were acting crazy all night just by your own overthinking, but it was also fuelled by Joel’s non-chalantness about everything. He didn’t seem to notice anything all night but you and how anxious you were. This feels like the start of a conversation, so you put the leftovers down on the bottom step of your porch.
“I– Ellie, when I brought her home after you were over last,” he begins, “she got home and saw the flowers right away. I told her not to make nothin’ of it, but she went and rattled off to Sarah and Tommy.”
Oh, okay. It was just the flowers. That’s good, at least they think you’re a lovesick loser, rather than the neighborhood floozy.
“I told them to act right tonight, begged’em to. The three of’em have been torturing me about it, I think it’s why I avoided you,” Joel admits quietly.
He’s doing it again, soothing your worries without meaning to. He’s a cooling balm on your burning brain, a sense of sanity cleansing you.
Joel wasn’t ashamed of what happened between you two, his family was just being shitstirrers about him receiving flowers. It wasn’t on purpose, and most importantly–
“I’m really sorry, angel. I should have called or– or somethin. Askin’ you to come tonight was askin’ for trouble from them. My daughter’s birthday ain’t makin’ up for shit, ‘specially not when they’re actin’ like that.”
An apology. Joel Miller seemed like a solid man before, one that was dependable, polite, and kind, but now he seems near-perfect. He’s taking accountability, admitting how he acted and why, and apologizing. No wonder he has two incredible daughters, both of whom love him dearly.
You stand there for a minute, a little speechless. You can’t remember a time that a man apologized to you and seemed to really mean it, or at least understand what he did wrong. But there’s Joel, in his black western shirt that’s rolled up his thick forearms, eyes soft and sorry as he looks at you in the blue-black night. He’s not like any man you’ve met before, not like your dad, friends back home, or your ex-boyfriend.
Tonight isn’t like any night you’ve had in Texas so far, but for so many different reasons. You’ve had a few weird nights, sure. Like what you shared with Joel, or the time you took the wrong bus home and got lost downtown, but it’s weird in a good way.
Tonight, you get to accept an apology from a man who truly seems sorry. Who’s admitted his wrongs, explained what happened, and more than that he’s been earnest about it. You didn’t have to beg for this apology, or argue why he should apologize. He did that on his own, made up his mind, and said sorry like a real man would.
It’s hard to make up your mind on what to do though, whether you should throw yourself at him and kiss him dizzy, or to just say “It’s alright, no hard feelings.”
You settle somewhere in the middle, taking his hands into your own. Your thumb pads rest in the centre of his palms, pushing down and massaging his hands.
“It’s okay,” you say finally, voice unsteady.
Joel isn’t at fault for his family being devious and obviously way too interested in his love life. What he is at fault for, is avoiding you. Brave enough to apologize, pussy enough to avoid the girl he likes. You keep talking.
“I wish you would have spoken to me about this, it made me feel awkward,” you tell him.
He looks up from your joined hands then, looking at you face on. Shame is painting his features, but he’s trying to be courageous, you can tell.
There is no “I know I should have,” or “I’m sorry you felt that way.” Just his voice saying, “I’m sorry.”
No if’s, and’s, or but’s. He’s sorry without excuse or pride.
The night air is still brisk on your skin, but Joel is warm everywhere. If you laid a hand onto his cheek you would feel hot flesh burning you back. His eyes flit from your own for a moment, decisive.
“I’d really, really, like to have dinner with you sometime. I know tonight was a disaster, so I won’t be offended if y’say no, but… I wanna make this up to you.”
This feels so much realer than last time, like he’s gripping your heart in his hand and squeezing as it beats. Joel isn’t just saying this in passing after he’s come in your hand, he’s not awkward and politely asking to return a favor. Joel wants this, wants you, wants to have dinner with you. It probably should have occurred to you when he invited you to his daughter’s birthday dinner, but it’s only hitting you right now. No more pity invites, he wants this.
Joel Miller wants this, he wants you, and he’s standing there with your hands in his, with his stupid soft eyes and with his heart on the line. He’s beautiful right now, standing with you as sorry as he can be. You’ll let him have this, he’s asking for it himself. Joel’s being so much braver this time around.
“I think we could do that,” you reply quietly.
His shoulders relax, brow unfurrowing. You can see the relief flood over him instantly, and he looks beautiful then too.
It’s easy from there. Joel’s voice is so soft when he’s grateful, quiet as he thanks and arranges a date-night with you. The two of you decide that a night in would be fine, since Joel ends up working late pretty often. You’re fine with this, and would honestly rather have him to yourself anyways. No more prying eyes when you’re with him, no more over-bearing perceptions that make your brain fizzle out with anxiety. Just you and Joel.
Admittedly, this silly crush on Joel began at a pretty surface level. Not shallow, but all you knew about him was that he was a hot dad and a nice guy. Now, though? Now he’s proven himself, shown you that there’s something in him that you can reach for. Everything’s bigger in Texas, but so far it’s only made you feel small. Being around Joel hushes you, like a kiss to a scrape. You want to know him deeper.
He squeezes your hands, then drops them so you can pick up your leftovers. You feel a little shy turning your back to him as you make it up to your door, but then he speaks.
“You looked real pretty tonight, angel, more’n usual.”
You hope he can’t hear the squeak you make when the door shuts behind you.
—
It’s a few days later, and Joel is supposed to be coming soon. He warned that he’s been working late recently, that he probably won’t be off work until eight that evening. You don’t care, you made him dinner.
It’s sitting in the kitchen, ready to be rewarmed when he gets to your house. It’s 8:30 now, he should be here soon. You’re tucked away on the couch, settled after recooling the house with your air conditioner. To be honest it should be illegal to cook during summers like this. You sweated so much you thought about taking another shower, but it wouldn’t have helped.
Besides, Joel’s showing up to your house in probably 10 minutes, sweaty and gross from work. It won’t be like you’re any grosser in comparison.
As predicted, he does show up ten minutes later. His hair is a mess and he smells like hard work, but it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters when he’s in your doorway, toeing off his boots, and asking how your day was. Joel’s eyes keep shyly meeting yours as you lead him to your living room and turn to face him. He’s nervous, clearly, but it’s sweet. You’re both out of your element again, this time in your house instead.
Joel’s eyes flit around the room when he’s avoiding your eyes, taking in your home similar to how you did his when you were there not so long ago. You wonder what he’s thinking, hoping he doesn’t find you to be boring. He keeps clenching and unclenching his fists and laughing nervously, and you keep watching how his adam's apple bobs in his throat, and how he vibrates with his laughter. He looks puppylike in the soft light of your home, brown eyes glistening.
“Are you hungry?” You ask him, tilting your head upwards. He looks so huge in your little space.
Joel nods sheepishly, and so you lead him into the kitchen.
—
They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and maybe Joel is the reason they say that. He groaned his way through dinner, with his eyes rolled back and compliments flying off his tongue when he wasn’t chewing. He listened to every word you said intently, taking his time with the food you had made. It had taken almost 40 minutes for him to finish that plate of food, and you saw just earlier that week how fast he could pound back a meal.
He’s savoring you with this silent praise you’ve never experienced.
And now he’s sat beside you on the couch, arm around your shoulders, and you’re snuggled back into him. The remote seems like a prop as you use it, aimlessly scrolling through a streaming service for a movie. Your thumbs are just rubbing over the rubber buttons now, your eyes focused on how his chest rises and falls.
“I really don’t mind what you wanna watch, baby,” He says.
His voice seems so much nicer up close like this, when his face is just above yours and you’re beside him.
“Or we don’t have to watch anything at all, we can just talk.”
How are you supposed to control yourself around him? How can he just walk into your home and fit right into your space, and look that good and be so warm? It feels like your bones are fighting against your skin to move, like the blood in your veins is yearning to jump rope. Joel is turning you on in a way you didn’t think possible, in a way where he’s never touched you, but you need him all at once. He’s softening the both of you.
It’s the middle of the hottest July of your entire life, but you’ve never felt warmer than right now.
“I’m sorry, was that weird? I jus’ like to hear you talk an–” Fuck he’s so nervous. Why is he so nervous? You want him loose and pliant again, like he was on the couch.
“You should kiss me,” you blurt out.
It’s funny how this is not the most insane thing you’ve suggested. The first crazy thing you suggested was “helping” him out with his boner when you went to his house on father’s day.
Still, Joel is surprised.
“You think so? I jus’ ate, I probably taste like food,” he says it like it’s an excuse.
You shift your body so you can face him better, chin tilted up so you can see his face. He’s not blushing, but he does seem surprised. This is much different than the embarrassed girl he walked home not even a week ago.
“Joel, I’m sure. I just– I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you bumble out.
He’s shaking his head, eyebrows pinched in that stupid way that makes his eyes look like a baby animals.
“No, no, baby, it’s alright I’m just gross from work and I…” He drops eye contact with you.
“I don’t want you to think that all I want from you is physical. You’re beautiful in a lot more ways than that.”
Fuck this guy, seriously. He’s so nervous, and clearly still thinks he’s fumbling this. Your bones are still vibrating, you’re so close to jumping out of your skin and into his.
“Joel you’re incredible too, but I just really need you to kiss me,” you breathe.
He seems to get it then. You clearly have deeper feelings, but after so long apart, and that disaster with his family, you’re pent up. Joel knows he’s kept you waiting long enough.
His first kiss is hesitant, just a small one that ends in a mumbled apology.
“S’been awhile,” he excuses before going back in.
And from there, it escalates. He’s controlled in his kisses, and seems to be avoiding tongue kissing you. Joel’s hesitancy from eating earlier is there, and you appreciate the courtesy. He makes it up though, when you push him further back on the couch and slide into his lap, arms looped around his neck.
Kisses are dotted from your lips, down your chin, and to the soft skin of your neck, where his mouth nips and kisses gently. Your hands are in his hair as you roll your head back, wanting to allow him however much space he needs to kiss you. There’s no hesitancy for either of you to be quiet, with him groaning as he smothers your neck in kisses, and you whining as he finds your sensitive points.
It only takes a few ruts of your hips against his for him to be asking you if you want to go upstairs. He’s out of breath beneath you, cheeks flushed, and you can feel how hard he’s gotten.
“Y-yeah, my room,” you agree weakly, sliding off his lap.
Joel can barely keep his hands off you as you scamper up the stairs, grasping at your thighs and laughing softly when you squeak.
It feels so juvenile, the way he grabs for you as soon as you enter your room. His lips are back on yours even as you try to tug up his shirt and he shakes his head slightly.
“You first, I have a lot to make up for,” he mumbles, nodding his head towards the bed.
He undresses you once you’ve laid down, with eyes that drag over you in awe and pure attraction. Joel doesn’t mind your plain cotton undies, or the hairs that poke out the front. It’s sweet and homelike, it’s normal.
He kisses where your hip bone is, murmuring into the fabric that covers it.
“I really want to eat you out, beautiful. Is that okay with you?”
For the first time in this entire evening, his voice seems to sober you rather than intoxicate you more. Your lungs finally catch up with the rest of you, and you can breathe enough to get some actual oxygen into your brain, so you can think.
Obviously the answer should be yes, but you don’t feel totally comfortable with that yet. You’re not someone who prefers to be shaven, it’s inconvenient, but your bush is a little much even for you right now. On top of that, you’ve been sweating like crazy all day, so you don’t even wanna know what it’s like down there. And if you don’t wanna know what it’s like, then you don’t want Joel to know what it’s like, even if he really wants to.
So you shake your head.
Perfect boy he is, Joel nods and says “that’s alright, baby, thank you for bein’ honest,” as he slides back up your body after placing one more kiss on your hip bone.
You are okay with him lifting your shirt off, and then unclipping your bra. He palms at your breasts lovingly, kissing them all over and lapping at your nipples. All of his touches are so gentle, but stupidly impactful. He seems to know that you don’t want this to be rough, that you enjoy his sweetness. He’s understanding you without even trying, and it feels like you’re being loved for the first time.
Joel is being careful in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being overdramatic, or fragile. He’s watching your movements so he can do this right, but at the same time you’re getting impatient.
“Joel,” you pant as he sucks your nipple back into his mouth, “Joel, take your clothes off, please?”
He’s stupidly excited as he scrambles off your bed, tugging his jeans down and almost getting caught in his shirt when he pulls it off wrong. Joel touches his boxers and then looks at you with questioning eyes. This is where he hesitates.
“We can turn the lights off,” you offer gently.
You remember his hesitancy on the couch, how he didn’t want you to look at him, to see him. It doesn’t matter if it’s dark in your room when this happens, so long as it’s him in the bed with you.
Joel turns and shuts the lights off, plunging the room into darkness for a moment before your eyes adjust. In another moment, you feel him on top of you again, his warm skin touching yours. It’s very lucky you cracked your window open earlier, so now your bedroom has become a manageable temperature.
He’s comfortable on top of you, with his plush tummy pressing against the softness of your own. Your legs tangle as you struggle to strip your undies off, and you give up when they get caught around your ankle. His nose is pressed to your cheek as he just hovers above you for a second.
“I know I said this earlier, but it really has been a long time,” he admits quietly.
It shouldn’t warm your heart the way it does, but the idea of him not sharing himself with anyone for so long until you… it’s special.
“That’s okay. Are you okay?” You ask.
He nods, from what you can feel, and then pulls back onto his knees. Joel isn’t totally visible in the light of your room, but he’s still gorgeous from what you can tell. The pouch of his tummy is so cute, so real, and you hope that you can bite it one day.
“I’m just going to prep you a little, is that okay darlin?” Joel says carefully, trailing a hand down your thigh.
Maybe from the outside this looks like two awkward people having sex, or maybe even like you don’t want each other at all. It sounds like there’s so much hesitancy in the room, but it’s not like that. The two of you are just reassuring one another, Joel to you because he was gone for so long, and you to him because it’s been so long for him.
So it isn’t awkward, when he plunges his finger into you. He starts with one, gentle as ever, and works up to three very slowly. Joel leans down to your cheek and murmurs the nicest things to you, telling you how nice you feel, thanking you for being so kind to him.
“So patient with me, baby. Don’t know why you are, but it’s so kind,” he says quietly as he curls his fingers in you. They feel so much bigger than your own, but they fit fine. Fuller than you’re used to, but fulfilled in a new way. The feeling chokes your breath and all you can do is whimper softly at him, eyes wide.
“M’gonna be makin’ up my mistakes for a long time to you, an’ not just like this,” he promises, slowing his movements but making them more deliberate, a little harder. Nothing is burning like it usually does, there’s no sting of pain, it’s just a melting pot of pleasure between your legs as he gives himself to you and you to him.
“Is that okay with you? Is it okay if I wanna make this up to you for a long time?” Joel asks.
You know what he’s asking. You know you want it too, you know you haven’t felt this wanted since you moved to Texas, probably even before. Nothing has felt like this in your life, and he’s requesting you to have it.
“Yes, yes, Joel, that’s okay with me,” you say.
He leans down and kisses you once, then lets you scoot up and over on the bed so you can fumble in your drawer for the lube. Your hand passes over a silicone toy in your bedside table and you smile at the fact that it will soon be long abandoned as you pass the lube to him.
“Might be cold,” Joel warns before pouring some onto his fingers and applying it to you.
Then, he applies some to himself and settles comfortably between your legs. He drags the head of his cock over your hole and up to your clit, like a teasing warning. He had felt big in your palm before, but he feels even bigger now. He was right to prep you.
Finally, he notches himself and slowly pushes in, letting your locked ankles on his lower back guide the speed at which he slides in. Joel is breathing really heavily, and when he finally feels his pelvis meet yours, he collapses down onto his elbows.
“Fuck,” he cusses.
It feels better than you thought it would. He’s big, but not so much that you want him to pull back a little. You physically feel as comfortable and fulfilled as he makes you feel emotionally.
“So good, oh my god–” you sigh softly, hands reaching up and catching his curls in your fingers. You drag him down, your beautiful boy, and kiss him gently.
But he isn’t moving. You can feel his thighs shaking and how he’s still breathing heavily.
“Hey,” you start softly after pulling back from the kiss, but he shakes his head.
“If I move I think– I think I’m gonna come,” he sputters out embarrassedly.
Oh.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry baby. You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s been so long and you feel so goddamn good, I don’t know, I can’t move.”
His nose is near enough to yours that you can brush them together, nuzzling the side of his face.
“Joel it’s okay, I’m not going to be upset,” you tell him. It’s oddly sweet for him to have such an overwhelming reaction to you.
“No, I know that I just… I really wanna make you come. I wanna feel it," he admits.
And so you wait. Your unending patience seems to extend to him again in this moment and you lay there kissing him until he can finally begin to move at an even pace.
It’s so worth it.
Joel is so loving as he fucks you, with deep thrusts as he groans and bites at your neck tenderly. His hands come up and palm your breasts, rolling his thumbs over his nipples as he tells you how pretty you are, how grateful and sorry he is.
He apologizes a lot. For the party, for his distance, for how stupid he was to not see how beautiful you were from the day you moved in next door. He’s noisy and apologetic as he keeps a stable pace as he fucks you into your mattress.
Your mind is entirely fucked for him. You’re whimpering and mewling beneath him, babbling “it’s okay,” and “i forgive you,” everytime he says he’s sorry. Why is he even sorry anymore? Can’t he tell how much you love this?
The more he talks the closer you get, your body clenching around him as he buries himself deep repeatedly. The stable pace he set should ground you, should keep your head on your shoulders, but it’s actually making it worse. You don’t need it any faster or harder than he’s giving it to you, not with how noisy he is, and how attentive his hands are.
“Do you forgive me?” he rumbles into your ear, dropped on one elbow as his other hand is reached down and gently rubbing your clit.
You nod desperately, accidentally knocking your head into his. It makes him laugh, asking “yeah?” as he continues to pin his hips into your own.
“I forgive you, Joel, I swear,” you choke out weakly.
“Then will you come for me, honey? Please?” he asks.
It’s maybe the dirtiest thing he’s said all night, or maybe it just feels like it in the heat of the moment, but it sends you over the edge right away. You spasm around him and claw at his broad back, gasping for air and squeaking out noises you haven’t made before. Tears prick at your eyes as he works you through it with his fingers and cock.
“Fuck, yeah, there you are baby, that’s a good girl. God– Can I come? Is that okay?” Joel asks once you start to come down. You’re still in your head enough to nod, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips.
It doesn’t take long at all, you’re surprised he was able to last as long as he did with everything considered. Joel takes less than a minute before he’s pulling out and letting out deep grunts and breaths as he comes on your tummy, looking down at you with adoring eyes.
“Thank you, thank you baby, God.” He huffs out as he catches his breath. He’s kneeling between your legs with his chest puffing.
He continues thanking you as he cleans you up with a washcloth. You had to guide him to it by yelling instructions as he walked on shaky legs to your linen closet, not wanting to spill his mess everywhere.
Once you’re finally cleaned up, he nestles into bed with you. Your head lays on his still clammy shoulder as he tucks you beneath his arm and presses kisses to your hairline.
“M’so grateful for you, darlin’, I hope you know that,” he mumbles to you.
You tell him that you know, that he just proved it to you, and he laughs. The noise is so warm in your room, like it was meant to be there.
“Okay, that’s fair, but if you need anything else,” he tells you.
A thought does pop into your mind, but it doesn’t seem totally appropriate. You’re enjoying this peaceful moment with Joel, in your quiet room. His hand is tapping its fingers on your stomach, squeezing the flesh once or twice.
You decide not to say anything, but your tummy does. She growls loud and proud, forcing an embarrassed blush onto your face.
“Um… I think I’m kinda hungry,” you admit.
—
That’s how you and Joel end the night, in the kitchen.
You’re sitting on your countertop while he leans against it about a foot away. The paper plate that Ellie loaded up with cake is sat between the two of you, and your forks steal big lumps out of it.
Joel has frosting in his moustache, but it looks so cute there that you don’t have the heart to tell him. Instead, you just lean over and kiss him.
“N’ what was that for?” He asks through a mouthful of cake.
You just giggle and shrug, admiring him.
“I just like you,” you tell him.
He looks like he might roll his eyes, but instead he steps closer to you and kisses you on the cheek. You can feel the residue of the frosting on your skin.
“Yeah, I think I like you too, baby.”
i don't have a taglist, but i'll just tag people who commented on texas sweet :p @mochamadeleines @pascalssbabyy @taeslarityy @stefanibear003 @slutty-express @theweedisasterxoxo @knockk0ut @axshadows @lumpatto @aquanatalie @peekyourinterest @moel-jiller @ghostofzion @joeylovestofu @hellishjoel @pedropeach @pawnshopb1ues
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x you#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlouhbo#pedroverse#ellie writes
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Love the Lando fic. I am soooo desperate for a really smutty Max fic. He’s been feeling down that he hasn’t been winning and his best friend jokes she’ll give him head if he wins the sprint in Austin. You can guess the rest. I really in some need for friends to lovers smut
So we ride | MV¹
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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.
© trashy track tales, 2024
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for loving my previous work!! I hope you like this one as much 🤍🎀
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𐙚 summary ──── She’s been there for him even before his career in F1 took off. And now that Max is struggling, there’s no other place she’d rather be than beside him.
𐙚 pairing ──── Max Verstappen x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, smut, descriptive language & descriptive paragraphs (because I can't stop yapping), mature/sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, Filthy Mouth Max, swearing.
𐙚 word count ──── 4.4k
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 4, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I swear I planned to make an absolute filth out of this one, but somehow, I low-key ended up giggling and kicking my feet by the end. Nice ��🏻
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THE DISTANT CHEERS still reverberate faintly from the paddock as she waits by herself in Max's room.
She has no idea why she's suddenly nervous. It's just Max. Her Max. Her best friend.
She's been in his driver's room countless of times before, but something has shifted. The energy is charged, somehow, with the weight of everything that’s changed between them over the past month. He’s been making more effort to be in her life, but even though she thinks he does it only because he needs a break from his hectic life, she's not complaining. Quite the opposite.
They’ve been talking day and night, sharing calls and endless text conversations. Every message, every call, and every laugh they’ve shared has pulled them closer, blurring the lines that they’d always kept so carefully intact.
Memories creep in like old songs she can't stop replaying in her head while she rests in the small space that smells like him — a delicious, subtle scent that lingers wherever he goes, a clean mix of sandalwood and a hint of leather from his racing gear, with just a trace of something so uniquely Max.
Without having the privilege to stop her mind, she lets it wander to the first time they met, long before Max secured his seat in Formula 1. Even though he was only a teenager at that time, he was ferocious and resilient, and anybody could see the determination behind his eyes, to the point it was almost impossible to turn and look away.
At least that's how she remembers him.
From that day on, she’d been there for every milestone. Every point earned, every setback, every win, every lose, every title, every new girlfriend, and every break-up. She never questioned him, even when others criticized his aggression on track and his obsessive desire to win. She was aware that he had a cause to fight for and a lot to prove. And she understood that in a way that Max had told her no one else did.
She knows him better than anyone. Maybe because they go so far back. Or because he trusted her enough be unapologetically himself around her. They had always had a tight bond and, at some point, they ended up giving in to temptation. They were each other’s first, and even though both of them were so bad at it, that moment still remains until this day a mix of curiosity and comfort that neither of them had found elsewhere.
But they were young and very much not in love, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in the process. It made more sense to stay friends, because when it comes to relationships, timing is everything. He was going to be away all the time, and she couldn't wait for him — not that he would have ever let her do that. Max Verstappen is selfish in every aspect of the word, especially when it comes to the people he cares about, and she has always been his soft spot.
Being far too deep in thought, she barely hears the door open, flinching slightly as Max storms in, a tight smile plastered on his face.
“You’re here?” he asks in surprise, the second he sees her laying on the two-seater couch.
The first thing he notices is a papaya orange cap, and a Red Bull jersey that she stole from him two seasons ago, neatly tucked into her black skirt.
“Well, you won,” she shrugs, articulating her words, thoughtfully. “That was a cute drive.”
Max laughs, tracing a hand through his messy hair, “Cute?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in her direction.
“And simply lovely, congrats!” she giggles at the use of his catchphrase.
His skin is glistening with a mix of sweat and that post-win adrenaline that's still in his system. Even though it was just a sprint race, a win is a win. She can tell he’s tired, but he’s more alive now than she’s seen him in weeks. The second half of the season is not treating him well, and it has been hard for Max — though not impossible — to keep the cofidence up, given that the top step of the podium seems to get further and further away with each race week.
He even told her that he misses hearing the Dutch national anthem. Coming from Max, that means something.
It's frustrating, but he manages.
“Thanks,” says Max, leaning against the door as he unzips his suit, tying a knot with the sleeves around his waist.
She can’t help but take him in — his messy helmet hair that she always makes fun of, but secretly finds very, very attractive, the damp collar of his racing suit, the helmet marks imprinted on his rosy cheeks, and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, still buzzing with energy.
“How’s Martin?” Max continues, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk while he crosses the room to sit next to her.
The room itself it's pretty small — just the couch, a table with his water bottle and energy drink scattered on top, and a change of clothes resting on a shelf nearby. But despite its plainness, Max’s presence fills every inch of it.
“He had the nerve to shush me when I started singing your song after you crossed the finish line,” she admits.
Max laughs again, a deep, rich sound, making the walls seem to hum with it. He leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent is still there, more pronounced now that he's actually in the room and so close to her.
“You looked amazing out there,” the girl continues, turning to glare at Max, “Like you were fighting for more than just a win.”
“And you were in the wrong garage to see it. Isn’t that so sad?” he asks, his gaze softening as he studies her.
With a gentle touch, he takes her cap off and throws it across the room.
She gasps dramatically, pretending to be affected by his gesture, “That's bully behavior.”
“No, that's hideous and it ruins your pretty outfit.”
“Just say you're jealous, and I won't wear it again.”
“I'm jealous,” Max admits it in a heartbeat, making her breath catch.
There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s kept for himself for a long time. He reaches out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the back of his fingers lingering against her cheek.
She bites her lower lip as she looks down at the tiny gap between them, trying to act like none of this is making her head spin, “Good to know. I'll come in full papaya gear at the next race.”
Max gives her a ‘don't push it’ glare, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest just a fraction of an inch away from hers. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with somethings she can’t quite decipher.
“I told you I'll come if you win.”
They both pretend to believe her insinuation, even though they know she always cares about Max, not just when he wins races. Which circles back to the conversation they've had last night, and the way she tried to motivate him; it's been on their minds constantly throughout the day. It was just a joke, sure. But still, Max took the podium, and unconsciously credits her with a small percentage of his performance today.
When their eyes meet again, the air is suddenly suffocating, as if the past is racing back between them. She has no idea who moves first and, somehow, Max's hand finds hers, warm and steady. It’s just a simple gesture — delicate, innocent, but somehow it feels like so much more. It anchores them in the present. It keeps them aware of each other.
“That's the thing, no? You’ve always been there for me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I want you to know that I never took you for granted. Not once.”
“Max…” she's not often at a loss for words, but when she hears his, it's hard for her to say anything else.
Every barrier they had both put up and every wall she had ever created around their friendship seems to be collapsing the moment Max starts caressing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. There is an undeniable desire between them, and they are both aware of it. However, their bond is much more important than a passing feeling. Right? A feeling that forms like a warm ball in her stomach, and makes his heart pound even faster when he notices her breath intensifying.
“In my eyes, you always deserve it,” she assures him, deciding to intertwine her fingers with his.
“Is that so?” he challenges her.
She nods, “You deserve to have everything you want because I know how hard you work to—”
Max leans in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I wants us.”
Her heart races as she meets his eyes — a flawless ocean blue, in which she would gladly bathe. Or drown, even.
“I want you,” he continues, his free hand traveling to her bare thigh, squeezing it slightly, “I want to stop pretending like you’re not driving me fucking mad, and that I don’t care who you’re giving your attention to.”
For a moment, they both hold their breath, his forehead dropping against hers.
“Is it clear enough what I want?” asks Max, and she nods again. “No, baby. I need words,” he frowns against her skin, as if it pains him not to get her confirmation. The confirmation that he waited so long for, but didn't feel he had the right to ask for.
Until it was too much.
Until now.
“I hear you,” she finally replies. “But what if—”
“If, if, if,” he cutts her off. “I don’t give a fuck about imaginary scenarios anymore. If it's not what you want, tell me to stop, and I will.”
But she doesnt.
Instead, she spreads her thighs wider to make room for his hand to move forward — all the confirmation he needs. He grins instantly, closing his eyes for a split second, living the same feeling he gets when he's on the podium after a hard-won race, letting it all soak in.
Max’s hand is trailing further up her thigh, unable to help but keep the smirk on when he realizes that whatever they feel for each other, is mutual. He runs his finger lightly over the top of her lace panties, letting out a low sigh at the way her body responds to the slighlest touch. In return, she wraps her arms around Max's neck, looking at each other in anticipation. They know it right away — it’s like the fall of the Bastille, the moment before a revolution, when restraint gives way to a desire too powerful to ignore. They both know that after this, there’s no going back, no way to rebuild what’s been broken or control the outcome.
They know it’s not a calculated risk, and it can end so badly, but when Max leans in to kiss her — a kiss meant to suck every ounce of doubt out of her — the walls come crashing down. They melt into it, all the tension fading away. The hand between her thighs is now working her at the same pace as the kiss, soft whimpers cascading from her into Max’s mouth, making him lose it.
He almost can't believe this is really happening. But it’s as real as his win, and all he needs for tonight to get better is to bury his fingers in her cunt, preparing her for his cock, and pump her full of cum until none of them can take it anymore, just to make up for all the time they've lost while they were dancing around their insecurities.
Without any warnings, he drops to his knees between her legs as she lets her head rest on the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
Max decides to take it slow.
Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is afraid that maybe this is just a momentary lapse, and he won't get to have her like this for who knows how long. Therefore, he needs to take his time, savoring everything she's willing to give him. Now.
He gently pushes the thin fabric of her panties to the side, running his index finger over her slik, getting coated in her wetness even before he's halfway up to her clit. His thumb starts to gently rub against her warmth in circular motions over her soft skin of her moud, automatically feeling the urge to look up at her as she clasps her hands against the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white.
His mouth goes dry.
“God, do you always get this worked up?” asks Max with a husky voice, trying to ignore how annoyed he gets at the thought of her pussy dripping as a result of someone else's touch. “Has anyone ever made you this wet?”
She shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand, but Max is way too focused on parting her folds with his fingers to register her whimpers and the way she's fighting to keep quiet — these rooms are not only narrow and practical, they also have extremely thin walls. Plus, her glossy, red clit is more captivating than any answer she'd give him.
The truth is, he doesn't even care, because his only goal now is to ruin her for whoever comes after him.
“So pretty,” he muses, pressing one digit inside, her pussy growing wetter as it tightens around his finger. Which encourages Max to add one more right away, gently scissoring them to stretch her out. “Fuck,” he exhales, as she pushes her hips into his hand.
“Max…” she drops her hand just as he's curling his fingers inside, touching her sweet spot repeatedly, pumping in and out with precision.
“Does that feel good, schatje?
“So. Good,” she whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling.
Max’s fingers start moving faster, establishing an agonizing pace, his eyes watching her reactions intently, seeing her back arching.
“Look at you, fuck,” he swears, leaning in to graze his lips against her thigh, leaving tiny kisses in their wake while he keeps his eyes on her.
A few more pumps of his fingers are enough to feel her clench hard around him, and finally letting go. Her moans are echoing in Max's ears like a siren call, tempting, potentially dangerous, while his fingers help her riding out her orgasm. His free hand is gently caressing her side the entire time, his lips pressing harder into her thigh, which makes her moan again.
“Gotta be quiet, baby. I can’t fuck you in here if you can’t keep quiet. And you want me to, yes? You want your sweet cunt fucked until you cum around my cock?”
“Mhm... The mouth on you, Verstappen,” she pants as quietly as possible, while grabbing his shoulders to pull him on top of her.
He helps her getting rid of her panties altogether, while their lips meet again in an explosion of new emotions, each more and more intense. Max knows their options are limited since it's such a small space, and doesn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, flipping them around so now he's laying on the couch, while she straddles him. His hands are instantly landing on her waist, listening to her giggle at the sudden change of positions.
“Hi,” Max smiles at her, his face radiating with pure excitement.
“Hi,” the girl parrots, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly playing with her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.
“You good?”
“I’m great,” she says, returning the smile.
“I fucking want to, but we don't have to if you have the slighlest doubt,” Max reminds her. “I'll jerk off in the shower later.”
She presses the pads of her fingers on his swollen lips to shut him up. “I want to,” she assures him, “I'm just scared it'll ruin us.”
Max cups her chin in his hand, his eyes heavy with understanding and the desire to prove her wrong, “Not gonna happen.”
“How are you so sure?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“I'm not, but I'll give you head if—”
She bursts out laughing as soon as she realizes Max is quoting her, “You are absolutely outrageous.”
Max keeps his hold on her waist as she shifts around, a slightly nervous but excited breath leaving his chest while she gets comfortable on top of him. “Tell me what you want, schat.”
In response, her fingers start fumbling with the knot he tied around his waist earlier, tugging at his fireproof with an urgency she can barely contain. Once her hands are making contact with his bare chest, warm and firm, she's sliding the rest of his racing suit past his waist, until it pools around Max's hips. She feels the rush as he pushes the rest of it down his legs, sucking in a breath of air at the sight of him.
“Max, you…,” she swallows the lump that got stuck in her throat, raising her eyes to look at him, slightly worried; nothing could've prepared her for how big Max is. “I've never heard you bragging about your dick.”
He chuckles at her words, his eyes turning into two adorable crescents moons on his face.
He's changed a lot over the years, of course. Max was only 16 when they had sex for the first time. But seeing him under her like that it's just a reminder of how small she feels against him now. His big hands can encircle her waist if he wanted to, and his arms could easily break her if he held her too tightly.
She looks down and notices the stark contrast between them: his broad shoulders, his strength, and their heights.
With her body nearly dwarfed by his, she is overcome with trepidation as she questions whether they will even fit together. However, she notices that Max is already trying to ease her concerns without saying a word, as he lifts her chin and meets her eyes with a tenderness that releases all the tension.
“You can take it, baby,” he assures her, guiding himself towards her entrance.
She lowers herself on him, slowly, intently, so easily that her hot cunt is practically sliding along his length, forcing Max to swallow a moan at how her wetness spreads over him. He pushes his hips forward, impatient, watching his cock disappear between her thighs. It drives them both absolutely crazy.
The intensity, the intimacy and all the places they make contact would normally be way too much. But then, Max pulls his hips down, only to fuck back in, feeling her relaxing on top of him.
The fit is perfect.
Her body is finally full. Complete.
“God, look at you,” he almost chokes, palming her ass under the skirt to help her spread more around him. “You're so beautiful.”
She cries out a moan, feeling as if her body gets split in two in real time, in the best way possible. His cock is so big that she's pretty sure she can feel him between her lungs.
Max means to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. A gasp leaves his parted lips as she sinks down on him completely — finally — his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, holding onto his girl like she's his lifeline. His chest sparks with a goran as he looks at her, the blue in his eyes darkening at the feeling.
“So tight, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” says Max, his hands getting lost under her shirt, palming her breasts. “You feel so good already. Gonna make me cum so fast,” he adds in a breathless mess, his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of her body against his.
It’s a consuming feeling, that leaves them both senseless.
Max starts to move slowly, guiding her up and down his cock, until they set a steady rhythm. They're an amalgam of moans and gasps, as his hands rest on her waist tighter than before, fucking in deeper with each thrust. The sounds they make and the way they hold each other brings them together in a new way. It's scary and exciting and far too risky, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is the way she holds onto him, mouth ajar as they look at each other. She uses him to anchor herself while she sinks deeper, again and again, until pleasure is all she knows.
“Oh… Max. Max, please,” she beggs, the sound of them connecting reverberating throughout the entire room.
At the sight of her flushed face and parted lips, Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes trailing down her body to where they’re joined, just to see how she takes him in with such ease. The image causes a low groan to leave his mouth, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs. She takes him so well, to the point of getting his own thighs wet as her pussy drips with their combined pleasure.
“You feel so fucking good on me, love. So good for me, that’s it,” he moans softly, his eyes falling shut to allow him to feel her everywhere in his body.
“Max… I can’t… Please, it’s too much.”
His eyes snap open to look at her again. Hearing her on the edge of desperation and feeling her body starting to shake with pleasure on top of him, it’s enough for Max to take charge, even though he’s not the one on top. Without a thought, he moves his hands back on her waist, holding her still as he lifts up his hips to start moving from underneath.
“Hold on to me, baby. I got you.”
He manages to send her to a whole another realm as he intensifies the pace, while the sounds of their bodies slapping together animates the room.
“That’s it, fuuuck. Let me take care of you,” he's breathing hard between thrusts, feeling dizzy as his climax builds, the heat in his stomach burning hotter.
He’s consumed by her in the most satisfying way — she is all that he feels and sees, her body pliant over his, her sweet noises in his ear being the only thing he can focus on as he looks at her through his lashes.
Max’s name cascades from her mouth, over and over again, until she starts clenching around his length — he knows that she’s close, and he’s right there with her.
His breath sounds shaky when he speaks again, “Where do you want me, baby?”
She knows that it's not a good idea for him finish inside her, but the thought of Max owning her like that gives her goosebumbs all over her body.
“Inside,” she gasps, burying her fingers in his hair and leaning over for a messy kiss. “Want to feel you...”
“Yeah, you want me to fill your pretty pussy? That you kept from me for so long?” asks Max against her jaw, his voice coming out in a low, sultry moan, just as a few drops of sweat gather along his hairline.
He lets his head fall back with a low groan, fucking his cock deeper and making her see stars in the process.
“Oh, god! Max,” she gasps, her voice coming out almost like a warning.
He takes it as an invitation to fuck her harder, feeling her tensing, then becoming boneless on top of him as he rides her orgasm. Max follows closely, moaning loudly as his hips move slopply, spilling inside of her, rolling his eyes at the feeling of her body milking his release.
“So fucking good, schatje.”
She wants to agree with him, but her mind is far too foggy and all she can do is run her hand over his skin, which is slick with a thin layer of sweat. She cups his face in her small palm while her other hand rests on his neck, sealing their lips together in a much slower, tender kiss.
Their tongues meet in a slow dance, tasting each other, making Max smile under it. She presses her forehead on his, a content smile appearing on her face this time, both of them completely blissed out.
Max’s hands runs along her thighs, admiring the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he speaks in a low, husky voice that still sounds breathless, “How the hell are you real?”
“Don’t ask me anything for the next five business days.”
He chuckles softly, giving her one more kiss before helping her up so he can gently pull out of her. She gasps again at the emptiness he leaves behind, feeling Max’s cum mixed with her own release oozing out of her. He swallows dryly, forcing his hand to gather up the result of their pleasure and fuck his fingers back in her cunt a few times before she collapses on top of him.
Max softens under her, tracing his hand through the waves of her hair, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say something. Something that could change the entire trajectory of their friendship.
Friendship.
He puffs out a laugh at the word.
“What?” she asks, curiously raising her eyes to look at him.
He looks so incredibly beautiful as he breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When it comes to Max, his beauty goes beyond his appearance; beneath the fierce, self-assured driver the outside world perceives, he displays now a softness and sensibility that only she has access to.
“You still owe me a blow job,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.
A laugh escapes her, soft and giddy, but as she pulls back, the intensity in his gaze remains.
Oh, he’s serious.
“I’ll find you tomorrow, after the race,” she says, her voice soft, almost as if she’s making a promise.
“What if I don’t win?”
She laughs, “A podium also counts.”
For now, that’s enough for him.
thank you for reading!
reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv1#mv33#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#max verstappen smut#f1 x reader#18+ mdni#f1 one shot#f1 2024#formula 1#f1#x reader#writers of tumblr#motorsport#formula one#one shot#smut#writerblr#f1blr#formula one smut#female reader#max verstappen x you#trashy track tales#austin 2024#f1 fic
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Angel
dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader
Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation
A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)
Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.
He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.
Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, so of course he said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.
What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.
Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.
You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.
“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.
“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.
He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.
“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”
“Yeah.”
“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.
“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.
“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.
“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.
Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.
Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.
“I love your costume,” one said.
“You look fantastic tonight.”
“Aw thanks!” You beamed.
“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”
“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.
“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.
“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.
“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”
“They were just being nice-”
“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”
The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.
“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.
You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”
“Where are your friends at?”
“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”
He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.
“Come right back here, okay?”
“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.
Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.
He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.
Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.
He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.
Shit like this was the reason he did coke so much.
Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.
You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill he was seeing red.
He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.
When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.
“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”
“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turning red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.
“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”
“I- Top was just showing me how to…”
“No.”
“What?”
“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.
“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.
“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.
“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.
“Did you have another drink?”
“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.
What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.
He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.
“Are you even sober enough to drive?”
“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.
The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.
Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.
Especially fucking Topper.
He should have known better.
Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.
He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.
Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.
When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.
His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.
Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.
He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.
All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.
At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.
He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.
If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.
Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.
He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.
The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.
“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.
Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.
These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.
Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.
Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.
He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.
He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.
His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.
When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.
He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.
You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.
“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.
He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.
But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.
You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.
“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.
Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.
You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.
He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he was robbing you of this experience; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.
And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.
But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.
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“Professional girlfriend.”
Lando Norris x engineer! Reader
TW: nothing special I think
~~~~
Usually you were pretty good at separating your professional relationship with Lando from your personal one, but today it seemed to be tougher than usual. Everyone knew you and Lando were dating, you’d never tried to hide it, but you also never acted like a couple in the garage or around the other engineers. Not that you met too much during the workdays, since you worked principally on Oscars side. During debriefs or meetings you could sometimes catch Lando looking at you and he always offered a discreet wink, making you have to push down a smile as you quickly looked away again, but never more than that.
“Alright, today was obviously not our best.” Andrea spoke up from one end of the long line of tables. That was putting it lightly. Qualifying had been rough, straight out, with bad tyre temps, shitty strategies and yellow flags fucking everything up, making Oscar start seventh tomorrow and Lando down at tenth. From the second he stepped into the room you could tell he was beating himself up for it and you couldn’t help but feel the girlfriend side of you crumble a bit. Lando hadn’t met your gaze even once and as Andrea kept talking about the day you noted how his shoulders just kept slumping more and more. Taking a deep breath you pulled your gaze from your obviously upset boyfriend, trying to focus back on the data displayed on the screen in front of you. You gave your report, keeping it short and straight to the point, and then you leaned back in your chair and waited for the meeting to be over. When Andrea finally excused you, ending with some inspirational quote about tomorrow being a new day, you gathered up your things with a sigh. You saw Lando talking with some of his engineers and you decided to go and drop off your stuff before meeting up with him. Unfortunately you got caught up for a while, chatting with your colleagues, and when you were finally free you almost felt a bit stressed to get to Landos driver room, wanting to be there to comfort him before he spiraled to much.
“Lan?” You knocked softly on the door, trying the handle even though you didn’t get an answer. The door opened and it didn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to conclude that he wasn’t there. Sighing you hoisted your bag higher up on your shoulder, setting out to find your boyfriend. Everyone you met offered sympathetic smiles, they all knew you were the one who’d comfort Lando tonight, but when you asked them if they’d seen him they all shook their heads. No one knew where he was. For several minutes you walked around the unit until you almost bumped into Will.
“Hey!” The man’s gaze snapped up from the iPad he was carrying, surprised look softening into a tired smile when he saw you.
“Hey, you’re still here?”
“I can’t find Lando.” You mumbled, getting straight to the point, and Wills face fell slightly. When you raised your eyebrows he let out a soft sigh.
“I think he might still be in the conference room, he said he wanted to go over some things from today-“
“Will.” You practically groaned, shaking your head. You and Will had talked about this before, agreeing that it wasn’t good for anyone to let the drivers sit alone and nitpick things even if they wanted too. You said drivers, but it had basically never been an issue with Oscar. Lando, on the other hand, was an expert at staring himself blind on the data, ending up feeling worse the more he watched.
“I know, I know.” Will sighed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t have it. He told me he’d talked to you about it already.”
“He definitely hasn’t.” You checked your phone to be sure but you knew there wouldn’t be a text from him. Looking back at Will you offered a crooked smile. “I’ll get him. Thank you. But you need to be harder on him when it comes to this.” At that Will couldn’t help but scoff, shrugging his shoulders.
“You know he doesn’t listen to anyone. Maybe you, a bit, definitely not me.”
You said goodbye to Will, quick steps taking you back towards where you last saw Lando. When you reached the conference room you first thought Will had been wrong, not seeing Lando through the glass wall. The lights were dimmed, most screens turned off, but as you got closer you could see the light from one computer still flickering in the room. Stopping just outside the door you watched the back of your boyfriend for a few seconds, feeling your chest clench at the way he sat with his shoulders slumped, staring at the screen. With a soft sigh you pushed the door open, carefully letting it click closed behind you again as you placed your bag down on the floor. Lando didn’t hear you, or if he did he didn’t react. You watched the back of his head for a moment, gaze trailing his tense shoulders before you slowly moved closer to him. The second your hands came in contact with his back, stroking over it gently, Lando flinched slightly.
“Sorry.” You mumbled quietly, feeling him relax under your touch. As your hands kept rubbing his back, moving up over his shoulders, Landos gaze never left the screen in front of him. It wasn’t until you finally wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning down to press a couple of kisses against his ear and cheek, that he actually acknowledged you. It wasn’t much, but he lifted one hand to grab onto your arm across his chest, stroking it slowly with his thumb.
“Hey.” His voice was quiet and you could tell how down he was by just that one word. Not that you had expected anything else.
“Are you ready to go back to the hotel my love?”
“I don’t think so. Sorry.” His hand dropped from your arm.
“Come on baby, you know this isn’t good for you.”
“You can go, I’ll come later. Have some stuff I need to review.” You could tell by his voice that he wouldn’t listen to you, he wouldn’t leave. Despite just calling Will out for letting Lando make the decisions you couldn’t help but accept defeat, pausing for a second before slowly pulling away. A moment later you were seated in the chair next to him.
“What is it we need to review?”
“No, you don’t-“ he actually turned to look at you, pausing when he noted the expression on your face. Lando knew you well enough to realize you wouldn’t leave him alone and despite wanting to be left in his bubble of self hatred he couldn’t help but feel appreciative. As he hesitated you spoke up again.
“If you have things you want to look at, we’ll do it together. Then we leave together. I’m not letting you sit here alone and beat yourself up over today.” You tried to speak as softly as you could while still remaining stern, you wanted him to know you were on his side. Always. Lando waited for a moment but eventually nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Okay. Yeah, okay.” His hand swiped across the surface of the table, closer to you, and you were quick to wrap your fingers around his larger ones. Lando watched your hands for a second before his gaze flickered up to met yours. “Thank you.” At that you couldn’t help but smile softly, nodding as you squeezed his hand.
”Anytime.”
The two of you stayed for a while, looking through the data and discussing exactly what went wrong where. While you were always honest with Lando, agreeing that he had done some mistakes that probably cost him a couple positions, you were also quick to point out all the circumstances that he had nothing to do with. Team mistakes, flags, weather- you made sure he didn’t take the blame for more than he should. As the clocked ticked on you felt yourself slump more and more and soon enough you were leaning against your boyfriend, cheek pressed against his shoulder and eyes fixed on the screen.
“You tired?” Lando suddenly paused the video the two of you were currently looking at, glancing down at you. You blinked rapidly a few times, pulling away to force some energy back into your body.
“Me?” You shook your head. “I’m fine.” Lando stared at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to tell him the truth. You wouldn’t, however you couldn’t stop the yawn escaping your lips and Lando let out a soft chuckle.
“Maybe it’s time to get out of here?”
“Yeah? You feel ready to pack up?”
“Yeah well,” Lando sighed. “You know I could sit here until tomorrow morning and pick at things…” he trailed off and you reached over to wrap your fingers around his wrist, stroking over his pulse point.
“But that wouldn’t help.”
“Probably not.” He turned to look at you again. You tilted your head, offering a sweet smile.
“If you’re ready to leave, I am too. I think it’ll be nice to get back to the hotel? Take a nice warm shower together? Order up some food, eat in bed…” you pulled your hand from his wrist to reach up and drag it through his curls, gently scratching down his neck. “I’ll give you some back rubs if you want?” Landos eyes were trained on you as you spoke and you loved the way the corners of his lips actually began to turn upwards.
“You had me at shower, honestly.” He mused quietly, earning a laugh from you.
”Alright, let’s go then big boy.” You gently patted his cheek, offering a quick wink before pulling away. Pushing your chair out from the table you stood up, stretching with a soft groan before turning around to grab your stuff from the floor. You didn’t make it more than a step before fingers wrapped around your arm and with a soft tug you were pulled back around to face your boyfriend. Before you could react his hand had found its place holding your jaw and barely a second later his lips were on yours, offering the sweetest kiss. You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, hands snaking across his abdomen to squeeze his sides through the fireproofs as you kissed him back. When he eventually pulled away he did so barely an inch, eyes flickering between yours a few times before he offered a couple more hard pecks against your lips. You hummed out a giggle, leaning back to look up at him.
“Thank you.” Lando mumbled, the softest little smile on his face. Pursing your lips you shrugged your shoulders, snaking your arms around his torso.
“I’m just doing my job. As an engineer and a girlfriend. I take them equally serious.” That had Lando actually let out a small chuckle and the smile on your face widened.
“You’re a professional at both, I’d say.” He mumbled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. “Especially the latter.”
#imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 writing#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#norris x reader#mclaren#formula 1 imagine#formula one
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Award for the most nonsensical, contradictory comments goes to this person:
Maybe YOU need to read the text you misquote and misunderstand. Galadriel scorned Sauron, fancy that! Wow, it's almost like ROP contradicts this. And just so we're clear: scorning someone is pretty different from making googly eyes at them. Galadriel's scorn is canon; the latter is not.
Nowhere in this block of text - or in all of canon - do I see the suggestion that Annatar asked Galadriel to be his queen, or posed as a mortal man, or showed up on a random raft in the Sundering Seas, or any other abysmal writing choice ROP made. So whatever point you think you're making, you're not making it well.
We cannot assume that Galadriel's only reason for scorning Annatar would be knowing his true identify. Do you remember how she scorned Feanor simply because she sensed a darkness in him? It's pretty obvious that she found Annatar to be suspicious but didn't know exactly who he was and thus had nothing concrete to tell the other Elves, but she certainly didn't trust him. If Galadriel had known Annatar was Sauron, she absolutely would have told the other Elves. But what does ROP do? It has Galadriel fall for Sauron's deception hook, line and sinker (not scorn him), then discover who he is and just... not tell anyone! The guy who killed her brother and countless other Elves.
It's never "made explicit" that her speech is "her own"? Usually people's words are their own, so maybe jot that down.
You said it's "weird" that I "want" Galadriel to be power hungry of her own free will... Uh, what? This is not about what I want Galadriel to be, this is about canon. Then you say that Galadriel has been a "power hungry narcissist" since Tolkien created a backstory for her... You're not making sense. You're telling me I "want" Galadriel to be power hungry... and that she actually is? What exactly is your big breakthrough here?
My post above was literally about how Galadriel's ambition is her own and it comes from her and is not an idea Sauron planted in her mind. So after lecturing me on getting it wrong you say: "Sauron offers her what she truly desires - that desire did not come from Sauron." Yes, I know. Thank you. That was literally my point. My LITERAL POINT was that Galadriel has always had ambition and a desire to rule, and that ambition came from her, and so attributing her speech in FOTR to Sauron is fucking absurd.
Uh, guys? Don't confuse your crappy televised fanfic for the story that Tolkien actually wrote.
Galadriel was never "under Sauron's thrall." That's something ROP made up. In Unfinished Tales, she was the only one in Eregion who suspected that Annatar was lying about being an emissary of the Valar. Celebrimbor was deceived by him. She was not. She was certainly not "under his thrall." No, not even because she had Nenya.
Yes, when Frodo offered her the One Ring, she was tempted. It could have given her the power to prevent the fading of Lothlórien. But when she makes this speech in the book, and in the Peter Jackson movies, it's her own thought, she's not repeating something that Sauron said to her once:
“You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!”
These are Galadriel's words. Her words. Not Sauron's. And she was tempted by the One Ring because she could have been a more powerful queen, not Sauron's queen. Like, you guys really took one of the most powerful and complex female characters in Tolkien's works and you made her story all about a man and his power over her and his manipulation of her. Fuck off.
And stop tagging ROP as Lord of the Rings.
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elan for halloween would be a dream♡ i can see her in the prettiest costume everrrrr and h just going along with everything, hearts in his eyes👼🏼🪽🦢maybe even a private moment together, in costumeeeee🤍
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—————
"No, totally... For sure, it's going to be so much fun. Just text me when you get back to where you're staying... Yeah, I still have your location. Do you have mine?... Perfect, good. I'll text you later, but if you need anything just let me know... Love you, Fran."
Harry watched on the end of (Y/N)'s bed as she spoke into her phone, hands wandering through her professionally tousled hair. While he was aware of what she was muttering to her best friend, not a single word processed when he had the distraction of her reflection in front of him.
While he was getting a stellar view from behind her, the dressing gown she had draped over her shoulders hid the details of her halloween costume. This year, one of her three (three!) planned costumes was a Playboy Bunny. That was the bodysuit she had on tonight, complete with a puffed tail over her rear and a headband with bunny ears hanging off of her arm. The night's plans included making an appearance at a party thrown by a friend of a friend, the kind where her hair stylist was called and a makeup artist had been given the privilege of painting her face.
She was left with big blown out hair, her face dewy and smooth with the prettiest blush dusting her cheeks. The pink flush was extra concentrated on the tip of her nose, giving the illusion of a bunny's nose without having to draw a button nose on her skin. Her lashes were long and fluttery, grazing her brow bone and brushing her cheekbones. Sparkling gloss had been swiped over her lips, playing against the shimmery white corset cinching her waist. In lieu of the traditional bowtie around her neck, she had a black choker tied around her throat with a tiny white bow stitched to the front. Her legs were silken smooth under a pair of sheer nude tights, leading to a classic pair of pointed black stilettos. Harry could already see her begging to carry her around so she wouldn't have to keep walking in those shoes.
The champagne colored dressing gown draped over her form was only loosely tied at her waist, creating a deep V to show off stretches of her costume. It was hard for Harry to keep his focus when he looked at her. Her attention was miles far away from him, but he still felt drawn to her—unable to look away.
But, he reminded himself, he had to be on his best behavior for the night. He wasn't going out with her as her partner, dancing and drinking with her friends. He was going out with her as her bodyguard on duty, his sole purpose being to protect her to ensure she was safe amongst the throngs of almost-celebrities and paparazzi with blinding cameras.
Though the real severe threats to (Y/N)'s well being had all but vanished once Damien had been removed from her vicinity (there were rumors he was relocated to Spain, the cover being that there was some internship with some artist he admired. Harry had a feeling Damien fled the second it reached him that (Y/N) knew and wasn't afraid of letting others know as well), there was always the worry of her walking into the lion's den that was the media. Especially at parties like these, where one drink would be exaggerated to chugging a whole keg, and photographers weren't afraid to push and pull for the ultimate shot. More than anything, he wanted to be there; to be a physical reminder that she wasn't alone and she had him on her side.
"Right, right," (Y/N) muttered, rooting through the small purse she was taking with her for the night, "No, for sure. No, I'll text you... Okay, love you. Bye."
Harry was surprised to see (Y/N) actually end the call given the fact that they'd said goodbye at least three prior times only to continue talking. Dropping her phone in her bag just as she found the lipgloss she'd been digging for, he watched as she took in a deep breath, breasts swelling over the balconette cut of her bodysuit.
"Sorry," she sighed, meeting his eyes through the mirror with the applicator of her lipgloss dragging over her plush mouth, "I didn't think we'd talk that long."
"'S alright," he murmured, forcing his gaze from the soft parts of her up to her eyes, "I figured you'd be talking for a while. I don't mind."
Truthfully, this only gave him more and more time to get in all of his gazing and admiring and staring before he would have to be the consummate professional in public. He'd drink her in now in hopes of holding himself over until the early hours of the morning when they would finally be alone again.
Rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss, (Y/N) pursed her lips with a pop. Harry had to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he watched. He forced himself to straighten his posture when she turned her gaze to his, no longer using the mirror as the middleman.
"I wish you'd dress up with me tonight," she pouted, canting her head just right with the light catching her pinkened nose.
"I know," he sighed, standing up from where he'd been sat at her glamorous vanity. "Maybe another time—I've got to work tonight, remember?"
She only rolled her eyes at him, a pinch of attitude twisting her features. "Sure, sure. Because someone's going to fight me in the middle of a night club."
Harry only looked at her with a deadpan look. She knew better than most just how easy it was for tensions to boil over in the dark like that, especially when alcohol was involved. He wasn't really in the mood to imagine her being the subject of a grainy cell phone video with someone attempting to pull her hair out or pour a drink over her head.
"Fine, I know," she relented after only a moment of his silence, "I just think it would be cute if we were both bunnies or something. I'd even let you pick if you wanted something specific."
He shook his head, his features finally cracking when he pulled her closer with an arm looped around her waist. "I just want whatever makes y'feel pretty. We'll match another time, but y'get to be the center of attention tonight."
She softened immediately in his hold, reaching for him with the sleeves of the dressing gown sliding over her shimmering skin. "Okay. Thank you, H."
Harry didn't bother with a response before he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers. The tip of his nose grazed the top of her own as he tasted the watermelon tint to her gloss. If it were up to him, he would continue this up until Sully arrived and they would be forced on their way, but he'd been in trouble one too many times to know that he wasn't going to get away with messing up her makeup before an event like this.
Drawing away, the light caught a stray smudge of her gloss caught on the corner of her lip. With her face tipped up towards him like a flower looking for the sun, he used the pad of his thumb to lightly swipe away the offending smudge. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his face, tracing the planes and lingering on his lips, where he was sure there was the mark of her kiss glistening in the low light.
"I think I want to come home early tonight," (Y/N) whispered with Harry's thumb pausing just at the corner of her mouth.
"Yeah?" he pressed, raising his brows as he looked down at her. Carefully, he maneuvered his arm around her waist until he was pulling the headband of bunny ears from the crook of her elbow.
"Yeah," she breathed, no further explanation leaving her lips once Harry tipped her head back.
He pushed the headband over her hair, leaving the volume of her hair to flare out just behind the massive ears now stationed on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn't move, only looking up at him.
"'M sure we can make that happen, sweet girl."
Making the hard choice for the both of them, Harry unravelled his arms from around her and took a step back to allow clear air into their lungs.
"Finish getting ready, and I'll let Sully know we're almost ready."
With that, he exited her bedroom, knowing he would need a second to recuperate if either of them had a chance of acting normal for the night. He could feel (Y/N)'s eyes following him all the way out.
—————
Harry shifted, adjusting his stance as his pants felt entirely too tight as he kept his eyes stitched to the Playboy Bunny across the room.
It was criminal the way she was able to take all of the air out of his lungs when she was doing the most simple of things, when her attention was far from on him. Just dancing with her friends (and the hangers- on that would no doubt be posting about these interactions in the coming days) was enough to have him crossing his arms over his chest and clenching his jaw. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she fluffed her hair, played with the bunny ears on her head with a grin aimed at her friends, and ran her hands over the curves of her body.
He had forced himself into his work mindset before they'd gone out, just for those expectations to be cast aside. Of course, with his eyes on her, he was able to keep track of who was approaching her, and who was getting a touch too close, but that didn't mean that was his priority at the moment. He was too entranced with watching the way her hips moved, the swell of her breasts over the cups of her corset, the length of her legs in the silky tights. Every time the light shined just right over her face, and he caught the pink blush on her nose, he wondered how long he would have to kiss her until that blush became real.
Photographs and videos were taken of her as she had fun, some where he was sure there could be a glimpse of him simmering in the background. He wondered if there would be any articles picking apart his body language.
Despite how much fun she was having, Harry wanted to cling to her earlier request of heading home while the night was still young. Truthfully, he doubted he could make it much longer with just watching her. His hands were already fisted under his arms.
A small smile touched the corner of his lips, cracking the stoic exterior, when he saw her twirl on the dance floor. She had her hands in her fluffed hair, and a bubbly smile on her features. He could just barely hear the melody of her laugh over the sound of the music and the volume of the chatter. The faint traces of her remaining lip gloss sparkled in the party lights, drawing his gaze to her mouth like a faithful spotlight.
Harry barely saw the others in her circle playing along, dancing to the unfamiliar song thumping through the speakers. With the way (Y/N)'s body moved, the rolling of her hips, the way her breasts bounced against the tight corset, there was no way he was picking up on any details of the surroundings; no one could ask him the color of anything with the expectation of getting the right answer, not when (Y/N) was acting like this.
Following the sparkles sprinkled over her décolletage, the ribbon around her throat and the delicate slope of her neck, Harry realized (Y/N) was looking at him when he matched her gaze. There was a sparkle there, one different than that of her makeup. A sly smile touched the very corners of her mouth.
He'd been caught, but Harry didn't dare to look away from her.
Watching as she excused herself from her friends, looking for only a moment over her shoulder before she threaded through the crowd. Heading directly towards him. Harry shifted in his spot on the edge of the crowd, stationed near the table that had been reserved exclusively for her and the attention she would draw to this party.
Aware of the cameras that could easily capture them, both professional and amateur, (Y/N) didn't draw too near, but the heat she brought with her was enough to tickle along his skin.
"Hey, you," she greeted, a flirtatious undertone to the words. Her smile was a touch too bright to be only casual.
"Hi," he answered, dipping his chin in an attempt to level with her eyes, "Y'come here often?"
A peal of laughter spilled from her, (Y/N) leaning forward as if he said the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "You're so annoying," she shook her head though she held no real grit in her voice. She recovered with her lips in a curl as she canted her head. "Are you having fun at least? You haven't even moved from here all night.
"'M having fun watching you have fun," he clarified, "How are y'feeling?"
"I'm good," she sang, her features staying rounded and innocuous despite the way her eyes dropped from his, to the pillows of his lips. There, the glittery lids grew heavy, hooding her irises. "I think I might be ready to go home, though."
"Yeah?" Harry pressed, his voice suddenly deeper. Enough so that (Y/N) took the risk and leaned closer.
"Yeah," she affirmed, nibbling at her lip, "I promised you I would let us get home early tonight, remember?"
"But, if you're having fun, we don't have to go yet, love. I can wait for you."
"I can't."
It was the way that she met his eyes, gaze clear and heavy, that had a pump of blood rushing through his system and bruising his ribs.
"Say bye to your friends, I'll call Sully."
When she tossed a bright smile in his direction, sparkling gaze trained on him, Harry saw a camera trained in their direction to capture the moment.
That was a photo he hoped would resurface at some point.
—————
"Have a goodnight, kids. I'll see you in the morning, Miss (Y/N)."
With (Y/N)'s hand still tucked into Harry's elbow, a light jacket draped over her shoulders, she looked to Sully over her shoulder. "See you in the morning," she called.
Her steps never slowed, Harry keeping up with her while he bit back a smile. She definitely wasn't lying when she said she could wait.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he pushed open the door to her building, allowing her to step inside first. The sound of her heels clicking over the glossy floor matched the ticking of his heart. He faithfully followed her towards the elevator, tossing a polite smile to the lobby attendant for the both of them.
It wasn't until they were safe behind the gleaming doors of the elevator, only the mirrored walls and orchestrational music keeping them company, that (Y/N) broke.
Swirling to stand before him, with her heels assisting her height, she tugged Harry down with her arms looped around his neck. As soon as she was close enough, she pressed her lips to his in a messy smear. The tip of their noses mashed together before Harry was able to tilt his head. He could feel the remnants of her lip gloss, the soft heat of her kiss, the creases that matched up with his so perfectly. Parting his lips just enough, he slipped the tip of his tongue across the plush of her own mouth, getting a taste of the few sips of alcoholic lemonade she had at the beginning of the evening.
A breathy sigh fanned across his kiss when she opened her own mouth. Her tongue played along with his, getting a taste of him just as teasingly as he did for her. He clutched at her hips, finally getting more than a passing graze of the silken fabric that held tight over her body. The high leg cut of the bodysuit allowed him to feel glimpses of her bare skin through the tights pulled over her legs.
He wondered how long he would be able to keep her in this outfit before he was forced to tear it off of her.
Just as she chanced a hike of her leg over his thigh, the elevator dinged over their heads. it was Harry that pulled away first, looking over (Y/N)'s shoulder to see her penthouse level being highlighted.
"I'll follow you, sweet girl," Harry murmured, forcing himself to turn her body away from his and towards the opening doors.
She blinked herself back to the real world, clutching Harry's hand in her own before taking them down the hallway. It felt like an eternity as she dug through for the key to her door, long enough for him to skate his eyes down her form and over the exposed curve of her ass from the cut of the costume. He felt his pants tighten, his cock stirring at the sight.
As soon as she was able, she tugged him into her apartment after her. It was Harry that had the wherewithal to lock the door after them, only getting through the twisting motion for a second before she was pulling him away.
"We'll do that later. You're not my bodyguard tonight, just my boyfriend," she insisted, taking him to the couch with her.
A lopsided grin took over his mouth, going along with her as she urged him to take a seat on the plush sofa. "I thought y'liked that I protect you? What happened to that, sweet girl?"
"I do," she countered, taking a seat on his lap with her hands landing on the broad of his shoulders, "But I just want you to fuck me right now—not bodyguard me."
Harry felt a pulse of heat race through his system. He didn't think before he smeared his lips across hers, decidedly messier and harsher than the kiss they shared in the elevator.
She relented to his strength, clutching at his shoulders while he clutched at her waist. The boning of her corset was stiff under his hands, keeping her back arched as she leant into him. His palms skated over her form as she moaned into his mouth, the slick press and pull of their mouths filling the quiet of her apartment.
The ties of her corset slipped against his fingers just before he ran its other cotton fluff of her bunny tail. He couldn't help but to tug on it, hoping she could feel just how much he enjoyed her costume. The roll of her hips she gave in response was the right answer.
A whining moan rang from her throat then, the thin covering between her legs providing no cushion against the bulge of his cock underneath her core. She pulled away with her chest heaving against his, leaving Harry to drag his lips down the line of her jaw and down the curve of her neck.
He hoped her makeup artist for the next Halloween party wouldn't mind using a few extra minutes to cover whatever marks he left over tonight.
Harry gently nipped at the soft skin of her throat, his tongue soothing that same area within the same breath. He sucked and bit, feeling the skin heat under his mouth. (Y/N) fisted his shirt, her manicured nails behind felt through the material. The light scratch against his skin was enough to have his hips bucking up to hers, meeting her soft core in a shallow thrust.
"Harry," she breathed, his name said like a prayer in a delicate voice. "I don't want to wait."
He only shushed her as he dotted kisses down her neck once he was satisfied with the love bite he left behind on her throat. She might not want to wait, but he was more than happy taking a bit of extra time with his mouth on her.
Once he reached the swell of her breasts, he brought a hand up from her rear to the flexible cups of her corset. It didn't take much force to fold it down and expose her peaking nipple. He took the bud between his lips, sucking it against his tongue. The scraping of his teeth had goosebumps sparking over her skin, her nipple hardening against the buds of his tongue.
Her hands on his shoulders shifted upwards into the baby curls on the back of his neck, fingers sliding amongst the waves. It was his turn to let out a strangled moan as he moved to press his lips to her other breast, spurring (Y/N) on to tug at the roots of his hair just enough to send a zip over the knobs of his spine.
Wrapping an arm around her back, he pressed her closer to his mouth, muffling his moan as he laved his tongue over her breast. The only movement she could make over his lap was to sit on his thighs, pressing her core headily against his cock.
He could feel the way his cock twitched when he imagined the heat that was waiting for him, the tight channel he was going to squeeze the head into.
God, could he really wait much longer?
Pulling away from her chest with a pop, his lips swollen and slick with saliva, Harry looked up at her with darkened eyes. She looked devastating, eyes glossy with thick lashes, her bunny-pink nose and lips agape, tongue tasting of his name.
"Harry?"
He pressed a hard kiss to her waiting mouth. "Want m'help with your costume?"
"I've got it," she rushed out, stumbling from his lap as she blindly reached for the ties of her corset.
It only took a moment of watching her unable to reach the right ties, that Harry let out a breathy laugh. He spun her with his hands on her hips, presenting him with the view of her back with her bunny tail at his face. He couldn't help but to plant a kiss on the small of her back, an act that had a small giggle sounding from his girl.
Harry worked gently and methodically as he undid the ties of her costume. He brushed the bare skin of her back as he worked his fingers under the ribbons, the boning loosening with every pull. Soon enough the entire ensemble was pushed down her hips and left in a puddle at her feet. (Y/N) took in a deep breath, looking over her shoulder at where he sat with spread legs on the couch.
"Ears or no ears?" she asked, referring to the headband pinned to her hair.
"Ears," he answered definitively.
A sly sight colored her lusted features. "Okay."
She had to have been putting on a show with the slow pace she rolled down her tights. (Y/N) slowly bent at the hips as she needed, her ass in Harry's face with the puffy lips of her pussy on display the deeper she bent. He could already see the way her slit was glistening for him. She hadn't been lying when she said she wasn't interested in waiting.
It was a bit selfish, he thought, leaving her to do the hard work of undressing while reaching down to the bulge in his lap. But, he wasn't one to say no to a show, especially not one as pretty as this.
Undoing the fastenings of his trousers, Harry pushed the band of his briefs down his thighs. The ruddy head was already smeared with precum, enough that allowed him to glaze down the rest of his length as he fisted over himself. There was no doubt (Y/N) heard the slick sound that rang through the apartment; especially not when she looked at him over her shoulder, her ass in his face and bunny ears on her head.
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, eyes darkened.
Her movements became a bit clumsy then, leaving the rest of his dressing to be left on the floor in record time. But, before she had a chance to climb back on his lap, Harry caged his free arm around her waist from behind. She let out a gasp, grabbing for his forearm that curled around his middle.
Harry tugged her down to sit on his lap, her back to his chest with the warmth of her pussy pressed right against the base of his cock. A full moan fell from her lips, (Y/N) throwing her head back to be laid against his shoulder.
"Alright with this?" he asked, referring to both the way he was taking her from behind and the fact she was naked while not a single article of his own clothing had been discarded.
"Uh-huh," she nodded absently, turning her head until she was snuggling against the column of his throat. "As long as you still kiss me."
An affection curl took over his mouth. "'M sure we can manage," he mused, "Budge up for me, love."
Lifting her hips while Harry's arm was still barred around her middle, he fisted his cock in his palm. With the way she hovered just above him, he was able to skim the head of his cock along her slick folds, smearing his precum around her core.
"Let me know if y'want me to stop or slow down," he murmured to her, something he told her every time she allowed him the privilege of settling between her thighs.
"Stop body guarding me, I'm f—"
Her chiding was cut off when Harry pushed his hips upwards, splitting her open with the head of his cock. A garbled call of his name bubbled out of her, the kind of thing that she attempted to bite back but still made it way out. He pulled her down onto his lap, bottoming out through her slick walls. A pleasured sigh heaved from his chest.
Harry bucked up into her, driving himself that much deeper, pushing his balls against her budding clit. Her breathing was shaky.
(Y/N )'s legs were spread wide around his own parted knees, leaving her open for him to begin bucking up into. She made the sweetest noises, the kind that told him he was hitting the deepest parts of her she had once told him had never been reached before him. He didn't have to see her to know that her eyes were fluttering to a close, nose pinched as she fought to keep her cool
Slick noises filtered through the space, her walls pulsing around him, attempting to suck him deeper though he was barely even pulling out at the beginning of each thrust.
"I-I wanna help," she whined, digging her fingers into the cage of his arm.
"Yeah?" he breathed, smearing a kiss to the dip of her shoulder, "Go ahead and help me, sweetheart."
He always thought it was quite cute that she wanted to help him when she was on top, despite how much he could tell she enjoyed just being bounced on his lap. His sweet girl, right to her core.
Slowing his bucks to gentle rolls of his hips, Harry allowed her to shift over his lap. Moving until she was straddling his pelvis, knees brought up to dig into the cushions of her sofa. She was spread wide open for him to reach around and graze her clit, the leverage of her knees on the couch allowing her to lift off of his cock until only the head was still tucked inside before dropping back down.
"Oh—Harry," she cried, arching her back with her bunny ears going lopsided.
With the enticing curve of her back, Harry's eyes were led right to the rounded curve of her ass. As she established her pace, the plush flesh slapped back against his lap. He couldn't take his eyes off, leaning back to watch the feast that was her body as she rode him.
Around her waist, his hand wrapped around her front dropped low until he met the top of her slit. He could feel the way his cock was splitting her open, a grazing that had his mouth falling open. His fingertips met her wet clit, the first touch being enough to have (Y/N) stumbling in her pace.
"Harry, oh my god."
That was all he needed to hear before he was circling her clit harder, the pads of his fingers unrelenting. "I've got y'sweet girl. Gonna cum for me?"
"A-Are you?"
"Want me to cum with you, sweetheart?" he choked out through gritted teeth. As much as playing with her clit was for her, the shocks felt through her body with the pulsing walls and squeezing thighs, that was for him.
"Uh-huh," she moaned out, her fluffed hair in a mess, "In-Inside."
It was his turn to let out a string of curses. With his free hand, Harry cuffed his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. Keeping true to her request, he pressed his lips to hers in a messy kiss; he was barely on center, teeth and tongues playing against one another. (Y/N)'s moans slipped through into his mouth, sweet and sugary.
There was no way he wouldn't be able to follow through on her request. Not when she was asking him to cum inside her, where her walls pulled and squeezed around him. She was snug, unwilling to let go of him, even when it was only for a moment with the rolls of her hips.
A frayed knot came to fruition in his stomach. It wasn't strong, but it was tight—the kind that would only crumble under pressure. And his pressure was calling his team in ecstasy, requesting him to cum inside of her with her wet pussy doing all the extra convincing.
"I want you to finish first," he breathed against her mouth, "My bunny goes first."
She wanted to smile, that much he could tell with the twitch of her lips, but there was too much on her mind to record the bubbling feeling over his teasing. Instead, a pinch formed between her brows, Harry's fingers over her clit doing that much more to draw her to the edge.
It all happened so quickly. At one moment, she was fluttering her lashes closed with her lips parted, and the next she was pulling away from his kiss with her head thrown back to his shoulder.
(Y/N) grew impossibly wet around him, her walls that much tighter. The pace of her hips dropped until she was making only shaky rolls, toes curling on either side of his thighs. A breathless moan fell from her lips, her kiss-swollen lips parted.
All it took for Harry after feeling her pleasure and feeling the way every part of her body attempted to clung to him, was seeing the bunny-pink blush on her nose. Then he was summing.
He felt the way his cock throbbed just before ropes of his cum spurted from his tip. He was buried deep inside her, his release painting across the ridges of her walls. (Y/N) could feel the warmth, the pressure, he could tell with the way she clenched around him, both inside and out.
Keeping her flush to him, Harry wondered if they were in the same universe then. Were their heads filled with the same clouds? The thought had him holding her that much tighter.
Coming back down to earth came faster for (Y/N), leaving her to start spreading kisses along the side of his face.
"Harry," she murmured, breathless and tired, "Harry, I love you."
A small smile curled his lips, his eyes still closed as she felt another aftershock rock his body. "I love you, too."
His first act back on the material plane came in the form of turning her face to give her a proper kiss. The urgency had been drained from his body (literally), leaving him with only affection for his sweet girl.
He slumped back against the couch cushion, keeping her with him as she went lax.
"Can I stay here for a minute?" she murmured, her words holding a drawl.
Harry spoke through his smile, "Few more minutes, sweetheart. Then we'll get ready for bed, ‘kay?"
"'Kay," (Y/N) replied, though they both knew that he wasn't going to have the heart to make her get up until she was ready.
Moving cautiously, Harry pulled the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around (Y/N)'s nude body, covering her before the chill of the room could eat at the bliss in her system.
Silence settled over them, Harry running a comforting circuit with his hand over her hip, the other hugging her around the waist. He closed his eyes when he swore he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat—a grounding baseline.
Yeah, there was no way he was moving from this spot unless forced to do so.
"Harry?"
"Hm?" he hummed, pressing an absent kiss just to the side of her bunny ears.
"So," she started, amusement beginning to echo in her tone, "Bunny?"
Harry shook his head, biting back a smile as he held her that much tighter. "We're not getting into this tonight."
(Y/N) only laughed.
—————
#writing#harry#harry styles#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry smut#bodyguard harry#harry x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#bodyguard harry styles#harry styles x reader#pleasing#harrys house#as it was#fine line
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you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto
summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900
a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏
Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.
You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.
It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.
You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.
All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.
"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.
"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.
"Hi," you say, almost shyly.
"Hi baby, how are you?"
"Good," you pause, "stressed."
He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"
"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"
"Nervous, of course."
"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.
"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."
You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."
"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."
This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."
You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."
Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.
"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.
"What do you mean?"
"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."
"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."
"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.
"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."
"I hope so."
"I know so."
"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.
"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.
"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.
And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes ★
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When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)
max verstappen x reader
pt. 1 here
I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it
It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.
He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.
You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.
Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.
I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.
Love, Your Max
Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.
You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.
"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.
"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.
"No, it's okay!"
"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.
"Wow."
"I know, I don't know what to do."
Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"
"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."
"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."
"So you think I should go?"
"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."
After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.
-----------------------------------
You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."
The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.
Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.
Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.
"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."
"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."
"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."
"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.
"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.
Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.
He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.
After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.
@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???
reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly
reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways
You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!
Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.
"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.
"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."
"How much longer until we know?"
"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"
"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.
Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.
"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.
"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."
You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.
"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."
You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.
Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.
"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.
"I'm in the one right next to you."
"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"
"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.
"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"
"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."
"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.
---------------------------------------
Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.
Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.
"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.
"The storms."
"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.
"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.
"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."
Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.
Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.
"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.
"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"
"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."
"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."
Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.
"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."
"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.
"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.
"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.
"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."
"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.
"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.
"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.
"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."
"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"
Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.
"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."
Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."
He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.
"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.
"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.
The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.
"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.
"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.
Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.
Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.
Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.
You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.
Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.
“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”
His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.
“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”
He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.
"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."
Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.
As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.
Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."
"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.
"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.
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PLEASE DON'T LEAVE
( I have nothing).
Summary : ever since you joined Barcelona a year ago ,you've known that you have had feelings for ingrid and mapi .
Contains :angst.
Part 1 / part 2 / part 3
It has been about 3 years since you first met mapi , two since you met her girlfriend, ingrid , and one year since you joined them in Barcelona.
The day you signed your 5 year contract was by far the best day of your shitty life,but there was always a pit in your stomach whenever you glanced at Maria leon and ingrid engen.
They were happily in love ,they lived together , had two cats ,and were learning each other's languages. It felt so wrong to feel the things you were feeling for them .
Whether it was the butterflies in your stomach when one of them looked at you or the way you would state longingly at them when they interacted, that made it feel wrong for you to have feelings for them.
So ,you swallowed the feelings down and accepted the fact that you will never be the one they love ,the one they have feelings for . They would never love someone like you.
You were fucked up in more ways that one ,you were.disowned by your mother at 15 when you came out and was sent to live with you father ,whom ,even though was extremely nice , you didn't know.
Your life was just a series of unfortunate events after that. You had a couple of girlfriends, but two of them cheated, and the other was sent to overaction camps and was convinced that she wasn't gay anymore .
At some point ,you had to juggle 3 different jobs to even think about staying in football as a goalkeeper,even after being signed to a big club like Arsenal at 16.
Now at 26 ,you had accomplished all of your young dreams ,but you still felt so alone.
You weren't really close with all the girls on the team,only cata ,Claudia, and occasionally mapi its not that they don't like you,it's just that they were all already close and just assumed that you would immediately fit in .
Spoiler alert ,you didn't.
As a goalkeeper, you were fine.but it took you roughly 2 months to even become friends with everyone.
Current,at practice , you were lifting weights as it was a gym day .You were able to beat your own personal record by lifting 200 kg today ,the girls ,specifically ingrid and mapi ,cheered for you , but what you didn't notice was they way the couple were staring at you .
Ot was not a normal look they spared all the other girls ,it was different .
Their eyes lingered, but just as mapi was about to approach you, Jonathan walked through.
"Team bonding tonight . Who wants to host?" He informed everyone.
Mapi and ingrid immediately jumped at the opportunity to have everyone over (they really just wanted you.)
"Okay ,good, text the girls the information . And ,please, I need everyone to show up." The team nodded along to his words ,knowing how important team bonding nights are vital.
Later in the evening
As soon as you got home ,you jumped in the shower .
After that,you had a little nap after eating your food,and 7 pm came rolling in no time .
It was a casual movie night at ingrid and mapi's, so you just wore your old university hoodie with some oversized jeans wich a dab of makeup.
Before you went to their home, you stopped by the store to buy some popcorn as the girls had run out the kernels and may or may not have bought two roses from a small boutique besides the shop .
You made your way through the busy highways of Barcelona before finally reaching your destination.
You made your way up the stairs and knocked on the door only for Frido to open.
"Hello!" Frido exclaimed with a smile and pulled you into a hug as if you hadn't seen her today.
"Hi ,frido," you smiled fondly at her .
She moved away ,took the kernels from your hand, and made her way into the kitchen ,but not before teasing you for the two flowers in hand.
You made your way into the living room ,only to stop as you dropped you phone.
"I mean ,I can't believe Y/n thinks she has a chance with you two!" You heard alexia exclaimed," perra idiota. " she laughed,making everyone laugh along with her .including mapi and ingrid, who she was directing the question to.
You immediately turned around and walked put ,slamming the door behind you, which caused mapi to perk up .
"Did you hear that ?"
At the same time ,fridolina walked in ,"where's y/n ? Did she go to the bathroom?"
Realization dawned on everyone as ingrids face paled .She and mapi made their way to the door as quickly as possible while mapi was letting out a string of curse words.
Meanwhile ,you were sitting in your car trying not to cry your eyes out as you drove back home .
As soon as you stepped foot into your apartment,you broke down in sobs .of course, they think that of you.you we're nothing but a failure your entire life .
You didn't know how anyone who was as good and perfect as mapi and ingrid would ever like someone like you.
You hated yourself ,you should've known .
"I can't believe Y/n thinks she has a chance with you two!"
The words rang in the back of your mind as you collapsed onto the floor .
All you could hear was her words repeating and the lingering laughs in the back of your mind .
You knew that your life was messed up ,that you were messed up , you just didn't know why they needed to point it out .
This was the last thing you expected from anyone.e on the team , your heart hammered in your chest as you stopped sobbing .
This wasn't good for you ,you knew it wasn't. You tried pulling away from the world once and it ended up with you in a while different country with your dad whom you barely knew .
But you couldn't help yourself ,so for the upcoming days ,you would pull yourself away from everyone while taking to your manager about a transfer.
#womens football#woso soccer#woso x reader#barca femeni#woso fanfics#woso imagine#spain wnt#woso community#mapi leon will be the death of me#mapi leon imagine#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#barcelona femeni#barcelona femeni x reader
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ATEEZ and ALMOST BREAKING UP
ot8 x gn reader
summary: you’re in a relationship and one of you (or both) want to break up.
tw: angst (insecurities, arguments, reader flinches sometimes but it’s not violence) but with happy endings because i am weak + fluff + slight nsfw in mingi’s + alcohol in jongho’s.
a/n: i got carried away with yeosang’s and jongho’s my apologies 🙏 rqs are open btw! (also i promise i’m working on ateez stuck in the friendzone part 2 but i have this scheduled for today)
HONGJOONG
you stared at hongjoong in bewilderment. he was sitting down in front of you, with tears in his eyes that threatened to spill if he blinked. he looked so… fragile. as if one single word or touch from you could break him. yet you sat there, with confusion painted all over your face.
“i’m sorry, what?” you asked.
“i think we need to break up” he whispered, as a tear rolled down his cheek and looked away. so you didn’t hear wrong.
“i don’t agree” you said, taking his hand in yours. “what brought you this thought?” you asked, making him look down. you waited a few moments, not wanting to pressure him into talking. then, hongjoong lifted your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.
“i’m always busy, we haven’t seen each other in a while and i take too long to reply to your texts” he explained. “you deserve someone who is always there for you”
“but don’t i get a say in this? i knew what i was getting into when we started seeing each other” you started saying as you scooted closer to him, in order to lift up his face to look at you. once your eyes interlocked, you cradled his face and continued: “yeah it sucks not being able to see you as much as i wished to, but also it’s not like i’m unhappy. i cherish the small moments we spend together, it makes me eager for the next one”
“but-“ he started saying, but you interrupted him with a kiss. at first, hongjoong sat still, surprised by your sudden actions, but then he kissed you right back. “no buts joong, we are not breaking up. i love you and i still want this. i still want you” you whispered against his lips, reassuringly.
he nodded in response, believing you.
SEONGHWA
“can we talk for a moment?” you asked seonghwa, who immediately felt his blood run cold at the question. he dropped his phone and studied your face: you looked sad, tired even.
realization struck him as quick as alighting: you’ve been avoiding his kisses for at least two days now, and he’s been brushing it off thinking you were just in a weird mood. i mean, yes it bothered him, but he also loved you too much to not give you space if you needed it. he always wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. but maybe he was wrong about that?
“is something wrong, my love?” he asked with a shaky voice as he took your hand in his. he chose to ignore the way you slightly flinched at his touch, or else his heart would break even more.
“i think-“ you started saying, looking down at your intertwined hands. his hold was gentle, as he always has been. kind, gentle, beautiful, all things you were not. “i think we should take a break”.
you looked up to him, and immediately regretted it: tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill, while his lips were parted, probably trying to think of what to say. the scene completely broke you, and further proved your point about your insecurities.
“did i do something wrong?” he whispered, not trusting his voice to speak louder without breaking. your eyebrows furrowed, how could he think that when he’s been nothing but perfect in every way? “if i did i’m sorry y/n, i’ll change, but please don’t leave me”
you hugged him tightly, hiding his face on your neck as he sobbed. you didn’t realize you started crying too. “i’m sorry baby, you didn’t do anything wrong” you started saying after a while, pulling him back and cradling his face “it’s me, it’s all me and it has always been me. i’m the problem and i’m always holding you back, i’m sorry hwa”
“holding me back? what do you mean? baby you’re my motivation” seonghwa said, wiping away your tear with his thumbs. “but-“ you started saying, only to be interrupted by him:
“no, don’t ever say that again. you’re my star, y/n”.
YUNHO
normally, you would find yunho’s angry face hot, but now that it’s directed at you? not so much. not when he’s staring at you like you’re a waste of time and space, which only made your anger bubble up more.
“don’t just sit and stare at me! can you please give me a response? it’s not hard yunho” you exclaimed, earning a big eye roll from him “it’s a simple yes or no question: were you flirting with them?”
“god y/n you can be so annoying! no i wasn’t flirting, but now i wish i was so i could have a valid excuse to not see you again!” yunho yelled, standing up abruptly from his seat, making you take a step back unconsciously. this action didn’t go unnoticed by him, quickly realizing that surprise took over your face for a moment, before turning back to anger.
“if you don’t want to see me again then let’s just break up. i’m setting you free yunho” you said in anger, contrasting the way your eyes started watering.
you turned around in order to leave, not wanting him to see you cry, but he grabbed your hand, stopping you. when you turned around, you saw that his hard expression had softened, anger slowly dissipating.
“wait, don’t leave” he started saying “i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking straight when i said what i said. i love you, i didn’t flirt with them and i don’t want you to leave”
yunho’s eyes silently begged you to forgive him, as he brought you closer to him slowly, testing the waters. when he realized you weren’t going to move away, he wrapped his arms around you. “i’m truly sorry baby, please don’t leave. i love you”.
you cried softly on his chest, as he thought of ways to make you forgive him completely. he refused to let you go.
YEOSANG
“i think this should end, y/n” he said suddenly, making you turn around in your spot at the kitchen. you looked at him confused, tea cups still on your hand.
“you mean the habit of us having tea together before bed?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. yeosang stood up from the coach, and approached you slowly as you took notice of his sad face. “you know what i mean” he whispered once he reached you.
you shook your head “no, actually i don’t. is this about the argument earlier? i forgave you already, it’s all good yeo i promise” you replied quickly, setting the tea cups aside and proceeding to hold his arms. yeosang stared at you, it seems like he was about to cry as well, becoming all too real.
it’s rare for you to argue honestly, often choosing to just talk things out calmly. but earlier that day, ‘talking’ seemed impossible, as constant yelling filled the room. yeosang had promised, once again, to take you out on a date to celebrate your anniversary (two weeks and a half ago), but due to his idol duties he cancelled again. you have had enough, so things escalated rather quickly, making him leave your shared home with a loud shut of the door.
thing is, hours later yeosang showed up with a small bouquet of flowers and asked for forgiveness. he also explained to you how overwhelmed he felt at the moment with all the upcoming comeback preparations. you understood him obviously, and decided it would be better to just move the date until after promotions.
so everything was fine, all forgiven. what brought this now? “baby we barely see each other, except late at night like right now” he started saying, biting his lip so he could stop the tears from spilling out “you deserve someone better”.
“yeosang you are the ‘better’ you’re refereing to! i don’t want anyone else” you answered, hugging him. “i just want you, all of you, even with your weird and long schedules. i still want to feel your kiss on my cheek every time you leave and i still want to have tea with you late at night”
yeosang kissed you, pouring his whole soul and love in it as he held you impossibly closer than before. after a while, he reluctantly broke it, face still close to yours.
“i’m sorry, i love you” he whispered.
SAN
“no” he said, shaking his head as he looked at you with an unreadable expression “no, we’re not breaking up”
“but-“ you started to argue, kind of getting annoyed at the way he dismissed your previous statement. it’s been a week since fans started suspecting of your relationship, after a sasaeng had caught you at a restaurant celebrating your first anniversary. the media was going wild, even going as far as searching up your socials and sending malicious messages, all telling you to break up with san and that you’re harming his idol image.
“i said no, baby” he said, kissing your cheek and taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom “let’s go to bed”
“san! i’m about to ruin your career, i can’t just brush it off like it’s nothing! we need to break up, or at least take a break until everything calms down” you exclaimed, taking your hand back. san stared at you, face still unreadable but with some traces of hurt evident in his eyes. he took your hands again.
“you’re not going to ruin my career, love” he started saying, holding your hands tighter as if he was scared of letting go “kq’s management is handling it, they assured me everything will be fine because the angle of the photo didn’t show my face, and the couple behind us hid my body as well, so it’s not noticeable that it’s me”
you thought for a moment. truth is, you love san way too much to bring him harm, as small as possible it may be. he knew this, but his reasoning made sense. for all the media knows, the guy in the picture could be a lookalike.
“please” he said, barely above a whisper. you nodded, kissing his lips reassuringly. it’s going to be okay.
MINGI
the room felt heated, despite the different pieces of clothing that have been mindlessly discarded all over the place. mingi’s mouth never left yours, tongue entering your mouth as if it was it’s second home. his hands were everywhere: massaging your chest, holding your waist, playing with your ass, caressing your thighs. you felt him everywhere, all at once.
“we should really break things off” he said, in between kisses. you nodded, letting out a small moan when his lips found your neck. “definitely” you managed to say.
you and mingi have been arguing a lot recently, sometimes over silly small things like laundry or house chores, and other times the argument would revolve around hin forgetting important dates or your stubbornness to remember that he is an idol and is, of course, busy.
mingi’s hands went back to your ass, slapping it lightly and making you jump. he proceeded to hold your thighs, pulling you up to his height as he pressed you against the wall. he kissed you again, desperately and deeply.
“min-“ you started saying, or attempted to say since his lips made it near impossible. he bit your lip in response. “mingi”
he hummed against your lips. “this is not what breaking up means” you managed to say, pulling the back of his hair lightly but enough to make hin groan. “i know, but what if it is for us? i know you’ll miss this, miss me. now hold tight” he answered, unbucking his belt as you held on him tightly to not fall while he maneuvered with his pants.
once he was done, and pressed you harder against the wall, your trail of thought immediately disappeared. if it was a good or bad decision, or something that would become cyclical, that would be a problem for the future.
WOOYOUNG
“we should break up” you said, as a matter of fact. you stood in front of him, arms crossed as a serious expression adorned your face. wooyoung, in contrast, was sitting on your shared bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media. he didn’t even bother to look up.
“and why do you think that, baby?” he asked, still not looking at you, which caused your eye to twitch slightly. “exactly because of things like this wooyoung! i’m trying to break up with you and you don’t even care!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air dramatically.
wooyoung blocked his phone and set it aside, sitting up straight in the process. his eyes found yours, probably trying to decipher how you were feeling. “are there any other reasons?”
“you don’t have time for me-“ you replied. “i still see you every night unless i’m on tour, and even in that circumstance i call every day” he interrupted. “okay, but you also never help me around the house” you argued. “baby, i literally cook half of your meals”.
“but-“ you started saying, only to be interrupted once again by wooyoung: “see? no reasons, no break up” he said, patting your head and returning to his phone.
“you’re impossible” you said, sitting beside him with your arms still crossed against your chest. wooyoung kissed your cheek “i know, but you love me nonetheless. plus i know this was an attempt to prank me as revenge for last time”
your eyes widened in surprise.
“HOW?!”
JONGHO
you might have taken a few too many drinks at tonight’s night out with your friends, so they had to call your boyfriend jongho to come and pick you up. thankfully, he answered quickly and said he would be there in 10.
“noooo you called jongho?” you asked, tipsily as you grabbed your friend’s hand that was holding your phone. “he has to wake up early tomorrow! he shouldn’t be driving around, he has to rest!”
“someone has to get you home, babe! plus he seemed fine, i promise” your friend answered in between giggles watching you pout.
once you spot jongho, your whole face lit up involuntarily, as if it was a reflex. once he reached your table, he hugged you from behind, pecking your cheek. “thanks for calling me and taking care of her” he told your friends. you clumsily bid your goodbyes to your friends and turned to jongho, ready to go.
“you shouldn’t have come, jongs” you started saying as he buckled up your belt in the passenger seat. “you have a long day tomorrow”
“it’s no problem baby, i couldn’t sleep anyways” he said, jogging back to the driver’s seat. you looked at him, thoughtful expression on your face for a few moments. “what?” he asked, chuckling as he drove the car out of the parking lot.
“you weren’t able to sleep because i was out? or because you weren’t feeling tired?” you asked, curiously. for someone who was terribly drunk, you sure got philosophical. add that to the long list of things jongho finds endearing about you.
“little bit of both i guess” he answered, stopping at a red light. you stayed quiet, strangely so, which caused jongho to turn his face to you to check if you fell asleep. but you weren’t. instead, you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “baby? what’s wrong?” he said, slightly panicking, not caring that the light turned green. since it was late at night, his car was the only one there at the moment.
“i’m a burden to you” you concluded, tears rolling down your cheeks “i’m holding you back and you should leave me”. huh?!?!
“baby, what are you talking about?” he asked in confusion, before frantically holding your face and wiping your tears away with kisses. “you always appear to save the day jongs, and i do nothing in return” you whispered, looking deeply into his eyes.
“you do more than you realize, y/n” he said, kissing you once more. “but you’re drunk, and i know nothing i’ll say will stick in this state. so let’s talk about it tomorrow, yes?”
“promise?” you asked, in a tiny voice. “i promise” he reassured.
#ateez x reader#ateez headcanons#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa imagines#yunho x reader#yunho imagines#yeosang x reader#yeosang imagines#san x reader#san imagines#mingi x reader#mingi imagines#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung imagines#jongho x reader#jongho imagines#hongjoong scenarios#seonghwa scenarios#yunho scenarios#yeosang scenarios#san scenarios#mingi scenarios#wooyoung scenarios#jongho scenarios#ateez angst
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drew starkey's lowkey/secret relationship with author!reader
when drew was casted in the movie adaptation of one of your novels, he looked you up, first on google and then on instagram.
when he saw your page, he messaged you asking for your insight into the character he was going to be playing; in reality, he just wanted an excuse to talk to you. the two of you messaged each other for a bit, but mostly just stuff related to the character he was going to be playing.
when they started filming, you'd occasionally visit on set and have casual conversations with drew and the rest of the cast but nothing that significant; you thought that drew was attractive and vice versa but you were in a relationship so just kept it friendly.
a while after the filming for the movie adaptation had wrapped, your friends dragged you to a party, to 'get back out there' after your breakup. when your body bumped into a man's solid chest, the last person you expected for it to belong to was drew.
after that mishap (that ended with drew's drink spilled all over his shirt) you two spent pretty much the entire night huddled in a corner, talking about books, movies, and generally getting to know one another.
that night you ended up going home with him; but the morning after you got really freaked out because hooking up with people randomly wasn't really your thing; you made a hasty exit out of his place, but later that day he ended up calling you, and after nearly thirty seconds of considering just declining, you finally answered.
you ended up talking it out with him, and because you seemed to get along, you agreed to 'hang out' with him when both of you had time, and what was supposed to be 'just coffee' turned into you two in his bed.
afterward, you talked, and decided on a friends-with-benefits kind of situation, due to your recent break up and the fact that drew's work had him traveling constantly.
months went by, and you didn't even notice how casually hooking up and hanging out whenever he was in town to you two constantly texting one another, facetiming when he was away, and basically spending any time possible together.
all of your (and his) friends noticed it, and though they tried to tell you two to 'just be together', you both were stubborn, and insisted that there were no feelings there, just friendship and casually hooking up.
at midnight on a random wednesday, when drew was away filming, your doorbell rang. and when you went to open it, it was him. drew just let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around you.
and for you both, it felt like home.
BONUS:
yourname
Liked by drewstarkey and others yourname: happy birthday to the cheugiest guy i know! one year closer to the retirement home baby 🥰🎂 thanks for making the best morning (and midnight writing session) coffee. Comments are off. 4 November
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey thoughts#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey moodboard
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William was by his side the entire time. He reassured him, he was his rock, always. Sebastian didn't know how he did it - but he was so glad to have him by his side.
The drive in itself went fairly smoothly - Sebastian read some more in the pamphlets he got about the surgery, what to expect, what the steps were and what they would remove. That in itself was quite interesting - but also scary. He's never been under anesthesia, so that in itself was scary, never before had had a surgery. He considered himself lucky that he didn't need one until now, but well...now it made him even more nervous. He hoped all would go well.
He hated the smell of hospitals, this distinct scent of hand sanitizer and god knows what stuff in between. First at the reception Sebastian signed up for his stay here, signed some forms, and a nurse then showed him his room. The room had 4 beds in total, it was quite spacious and modern. Sebastian even had the bed next to the window, so that was nice. Still - he dreaded his stay here. Hospitals freaked him out.
With his hospital bag on his bed, William by then sat down on a nearby chair and meanwhile, Sebastian grabbed the hospital gown and slowly got ready. They were alone in here so he could just change here. Taking off his pants and shirt slowly, he sighed softly at William's question. "Oh dove, I'm so fucking nervous... I guess it's nice the cancer will be gone but-...well, for that the surgery has to go well. ...I never got put under anesthesia before, how does that even feel? Just falling asleep from one second to the other, that sounds so scary to me...ah..."
His shirt was off, then were his pants. He pulled over the hospital gown, got rid of his socks. William helped him put the hospital bag down and into a nearby closet he could use. His phone was lying on the little table right next to the hospital bed and as Sebastian slowly got comfortable on said bed, he couldn't help but feel even more freaked out. God, he was so nervous...what was even happening. With William here, though, he felt strong. He reached out with his hand and his beloved understood right away, laced their fingers and squeezed gently.
"Ah-...in what room am I in, by the way? I need to text my parents later, they wanted to visit. And Isa-...can you maybe ask a nurse later?", Sebastian remembered suddenly, looking alarmed - in reality, he would be out fast asleep for the next several hours, fully back to his senses maybe by the evening. He didn't need to worry about that - his parents could just call William on their own or ask at the reception, once they were here. But he was just worried and his mind spiraling a little.
Before William could really answer that anyway, suddenly the door to his room opened and a doctor entered. It was a blonde woman, friendly looking, her hair up in a pony tail as she approached the two of them - she had a clipboard in her hands. "Mr...Sebastian Michaelis, is that right?", she asked, "It's nice to meet you. My name is Dr Cole, I will be your surgeon today. We have you scheduled for lymph node removal, yes? How are you feeling, everything okay?", her voice was as smooth as butter, really - she seemed very friendly right away and professional too.
"Yes-...yes, hi, that's me", Sebastian nodded slowly, glancing over at William before looking back at her, "Fine. More or less. Nervous".
"Well, of course, that's normal. But it's a routine surgery, really, so you don't need to worry. I've got all your documents and files here, we know all we need to know to take the very best care of you. The anesthetist will be with you later, once they come get you for the surgery. I will prepare you a little, so to say", she smiled and put her clipboard aside for now, grabbing something else she brought as well. First, she put on gloves, then ripped the plastic it was packed in, all sterile - a needle, for IVs most likely. Sebastian already knew what this was for, of course - this would go straight into the back of his hand. Oh, he shuddered.
"Please, your left hand Mr Michaelis", she asked as she stood at the side of Sebastian's bed - she disinfected the skin first, on top of that - then, smoothly put the bed needle in and fixed it in place with a medical tape that was all transparent. Sebastian winced a little - god, he was used to needles he supposed but this still felt unpleasant. And made him anxious too - it started to feel very real now, so close.
"There we go. That's where you'll receive your pain meds and anesthetics later, so we don't have to prickle you over and over. Do you have any questions still? I will try my best to answer them all", she asked then, and looked at William this time as well.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐃 | J.JK
— pairing | stranger!oc x stranger!jjk
— summary | jungkook being dragged to a party ends up with him fcking namjoon’s homegirl
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
sexy sex, cursing, praising
— word count | 2.9k words
— song suggestion | privacy — chris brown
“Got fuckin’ work in the morning I don’t have time for this shit.” Jungkook grumpily complained once again.
His friends here and there would drag him out to some parties downtown. Nights full of drinking and meaningless conversations with random people.
He used to be a party guy but after his career jump started, he had no interest in going out.
His friend group went out every weekend, bars, clubs, parties, etc. It didn’t matter. Any social event, you’d be sure to see them.
“Stop complaining. You’re here aren’t you?” Jimin groaned. “You’re getting annoying.”
“Whatever.” Jungkook shook his head.
“Don’t know why you’re mad. Maybe you’ll actually get some tonight.” Taehyung added.
“Yes Jungkook! We know hella girls here and I know they be down for some Kookie.” Jimin teased. “Are our usual girls going? What about the Kim girls? Or the Choi twins? Yo see is Y/n is gonna pull up!” He nagged Namjoon.
“I ain’t even check. Do it matter? You’ll hang with anyone.” Namjoon rolled his eyes in response.
The men eventually pulled up to the function, hearing the loud music blaring from the outside before they even went in.
“Smells like weed and cheating partners, my favorite.” Taehyung inhaled. “Aren’t you excited Jungkook?”
Jungkook glared in response, still annoyed.
The men flashed their IDs to the security at the front before entering.
His friends weren’t wrong about the smell. It grew stronger with each step, it burned into his nose.
“Ah shit my main ones already here!” Jimin pointed at a group of skimpy dressed girls dancing near the bar, “Hey ladies!”
The men walked their way, girls giggling at their enthusiasm.
“Ladies.” Taehyung smooth talked them, making them giggle and shy away.
Except one anyway.
“We missed you!” One of them pouted, attempting to be cute.
“Yeahhh! Jiminie it’s been a week why haven’t you texted me?” The others screechy voice could make Jungkook’s ears bleed.
“Oh my gosh.” One of them froze. “Omg omg omg!!! Jungkook finally came!! You brought him!” She jumped in excitement.
“Woah!”
“He’s so handsome in person!”
“How’d you get him to come out? Who cares! I want him to dance with us!”
“Come on girls.” Namjoon calmed them. “Let him breathe, he not used to the spotlight like us.”
Jungkook shot him a glare. “You act like I’m scared of em’.” He mumbled
“I know you not.” Namjoon shook his head. “But one of them, you might be.”
“What?”
“Fuck, it’s hot in here.” A voice came from behind the other girls. “Can you guys move out the way? I’m tryna get another drink.”
And his heart stopped.
He had never imagined he’d see the most beautiful face at some ghetto underground function.
“Hey Y/n.” Namjoon greeted, giving her a side hug.
“Hey Joon.” She smiled, turning to Jungkook. “You brought your other friend.” She smiled his way, waving.
He just stared back at her, with a dumb look on his face.
“What’d I tell you? Told you he wouldn’t talk.” Namjoon shrugged.
“It’s cool.” She shrugged. “Probably won’t see him again.”
“This why I can’t stand either of you. Never want to go out and live up your youth!” Jimin interrupted, two girls on his arm.
“Because some of us actually have lives outside nightclubs.” She rolled her eyes, refacing Namjoon. “Hold my purse? I need to go to the bathroom real quick.”
Namjoon nodded and she walked off.
“Bad as hell huh!” Namjoon blurted, bro-hugging Jungkook.
“She’s cool.” Jungkook tried to stay nonchalant.
“He’s lying!” Jimin laughed. “Nah we knew you’d like her that’s why we begged her to come out too!”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Jungkook groaned “You guys are annoying as shit.”
“Eugh look at him! My man’s smitten!” Jimin pretended to swoon, making all the girls laugh.
“Nah. She pretty yeah, but that’s about it.” He shrugged.
The man was lying through his teeth.
That weed smell? Turned to straight vanilla when she walked his way. His attitude? Complete 360.
Damn was she pretty. They didn’t even meet her here they had to drag her out.
The comment she made to Jimin? Instant green flag.
He felt more delusional than the time Taehyung through a Las Vegas stripper actually loved him.
He shook his head, ignoring his heart pounding out of his chest.
“Whatever man. Get this man a drink!” Taehyung flagged down the bartender.
“Okay I’m back.” Y/n grabbed her purse from Namjoon. “Thank you.”
“No worry about it. Yo, my boy said he’ll buy your drink. Get whatever.” Namjoon told her, winking at Jungkook.
“Really?” She rose her eyebrow, turning her attention to Jungkook.
“Uh— Yeah I got you. Get whatever.” Jungkook swallowed.
Namjoon made eye contact with the rest of the boys, signaling them to move away from the bar so they could be alone.
“I’ll take a Malibu Bay Breeze.” She ordered.
He ordered after her, “I’ll just take a Gin and tonic.”
“Sorry they’re annoying.” He apologized for his friends. “But I haven’t formally introduced myself, my names Jungkook.” He put out his hand.
“Y/n.” She shook Jungkook’s hand. “I heard you don’t like coming out like that huh?”
His lips curve into a slight smile. "Nah, I ain't really a party guy. My boys dragged me out.”
“But now that you hear, I'm glad I came." He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing her. “They never mentioned you before.”
The bartender came back around with their drinks, the two thanking them.
“I don’t come out like that either.” Y/n replied, sipping on the drink she was just served. “Namjoon and I dated a bit in college but now we just cool. He just asked me to come out tonight to hang out with you guys.”
His eyes widen briefly. "Oh so you know Namjoon, huh?”
She nodded.
“Well, I gotta say, Namjoon's got good taste.” His eyes linger on her face, then slowly drift down to her body. “Real good taste.”
“Yeah you think so?” She chuckled, “You definitely have a good eye.”
"Oh, you have no idea.” He leans in closer, growing more comfortable and confident. “Like I’ve said, I'm not really into the whole party scene, but if I had known there'd be beautiful women like you here, I'd have come more often."
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think Namjoon would pull up with a friend I wouldn’t find immature and annoying.”
“Well, I’m glad I'm not disappointing. And just so you know, I'm far from immature."
“You ain’t gotta tell me. I can see you compared to the boys. You’re more reserved than them” She responded.
"That's one way to put it.”
Jungkook reaches out and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “I like to think I'm more... refined. More put together."
He was pulling out the stunts now.
“I can tell.” She grinned.
Y/n was definitely giving him a major ego boost. Not in a desperate way, enough for him to want more.
“Refined and interested.” His voice dripped with passion. “So tell me, Y/n, what else can you tell about me based on first impressions? Since you’re so observant.”
“You seem to be very forward, I can already pick that up.” She chuckled. “Might be the playboy type.”
“Forward, yes. Playboy? I don’t know about that one Y/n.” He leans back slightly, “Hey now, I’m not that bad.” He grinned.
“But I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy women.” He admitted."
“How’s that working out for you? Since you never go out.”
"Well, it's not like I haven't had options. He leans in close My bed's not empty every night, if that's what you're implying.”
He winks, clearly enjoying her company.
“So you are just like your friends is what you’re telling me?” She rose her eyebrow.
He noticed a small change in Y/n’s expression.
He was realizing he was getting a bit ahead of himself, getting cocky.
He needed to slow it down.
“Hell no, I'm nothing like those horny bastards.” He shakes his head, “I'm just... selective. And skilled. But hey, don't go spreading that around."
“Nah, now I have to tell everyone.” She teased.
Back on track.
He gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "You wouldn't dare. I'd have to take drastic measures to keep you quiet."
“Really? And what are those measures?”
Damn was Y/n beautiful. The light highlighted her face beautifully in every way.
She didn’t even need to show all out because her body was already built so perfectly.
Everytime she spoke it was like honey to his ears.
He grins, his eyes locking onto hers "Well, I could always make sure you forget all about telling anyone.”
He reaches out and gently brushes his thumb across her lower lip. “Or maybe I could just keep you occupied all night, so you don't have a chance to say a word."
She was definitely feeling him as much as he was feeling her.
“I like the sound of that…” She mumbled.
“I’ll be honest Y/n, I usually ain’t the type of guy who asks this to random women but,” He paused. “Would you want to get outta here and head back to my place?”
༊—
He nuzzles into her neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell amazing. His hand slides further up her thigh as he speaks. “Fuckin’ finally got you alone."
They had already made out during that entire taxi ride.
The two barely could barely make it through the door of his house, lips smacking and saliva dripping from their passionate mouths.
As soon as the door clicked shut, he was all up on her, his hands gripping her hips as he spun her around to face him.
His kisses was passionate and demanding, his hands roaming over her body possessively. He broke the kiss only to speak against her lips. “Bedroom. Now. I gotta have you.”
“You’re turning me out” she chuckled against his mouth before heading up his stairs into his room.
He followed close behind, his hands gripping her backside as they entered his room.
He gently pushed her onto his bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “You’re driving me crazy. So fuckin’ pretty.”
“I didn’t even do anything” She mumbled.
“You exist. That’s enough.” He crawled onto the bed, his hands finding the hem of her shirt.
“Lift your arms.” His voice was low, commanding.
He gently lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside as he took in the sight of her. His hands roam over her bare skin, his fingers tracing patterns on her stomach.
“Fuck, you're gorgeous.” He murmurs, his lips pressing against her collarbone.
“I’ll be honest I haven’t uh— done anything like this in quite some time.” She confesses.
Jungkook pauses, looking at her with a soft expression. "Okay, baby. Whatever you're comfortable with.”
He continues to kiss and nuzzle her neck, his hands staying above the waistband of her pants. "I just want to be with you, however you need me to be.”
That almost immediately set her off. It was the bare minimum yes, but she couldn’t help but smile.
She grabbed him by his hair and crashed her lips back onto his and sloppily made out with him once again.
His response was equally fervent, his hands gripping her hair as he deepened the kiss.
His body covered hers, his hips grinding against hers. He broke the kiss to trail his lips down her body, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. “Unbutton my pants.” He rasped out.
She nodded, doing as she was told.
He lifted his hips, allowing her to slide his pants and boxers down. His erection sprang free, waiting for her.
He guided her hand to it. “Stroke me. He groaned, his head falling back. “Just like that, baby. Your hand feels so good.”
She had no problem touching him, almost like she had already known his body.
He groaned at her touch, "Fuck, just like that." His hands found her breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he continued to grind against her.
He could feel her heat through her pants and it was driving him crazy. “Take these off— fuckin’ now.”
She loved being directed what to do. He was demanding and instructed her well. She quickly slipped her pants off, leaving herself in a dark red glittery thong she didn’t think anyone would’ve seen.
His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her. He ran a hand up her thigh, his touch rough.
"You look...addicting. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling it down. "Lift up, baby. So pretty”
She nodded slowly, biting her lip as she stared down at him.
He tossed her thong aside, leaving her bare before him. He took a moment to admire her, his hands caressing her thighs. "Spread your legs for me." His voice was low, almost a growl.
She slowly spread out her legs, her heat throbbing for him.
He settled between her thighs, his eyes locked on her center.
He reached up to spread her lips open, exposing her to his gaze. "You just pretty from head to toe." He murmurs, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit.
"I'm going to eat you out until you can't remember your own name." He smirked in excitement.
“Jungkook” She whined, mesmerized by his words.
He grinned up at her, his breath fanning over her heated center. “I’m just getting started.”
He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her.
He explored her thoroughly, his tongue delving deep inside her.
“Oh fuck” A curse word slipped from her lips, not expecting his warm and wet tongue so soon.
“Fucking amazing. Tastes so fucking good.” He mumbled against her head.
He chuckled against her, the vibration causing her to shudder. “Perfect girl.” He continued his assault, his hands holding her thighs apart as he devoured her.
“You’re fuckin’ good at that” She hummed, mind numb from how overwhelmed she was with pleasure.
He could feel her walls clenching around his tongue, her juices dripping down his chin.
He lifted his head, his chin glistening as he looked at her. “And I’m just getting started.”
He climbed up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on his tongue. His hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Keep them there.”
He leaned over, grabbing a condom packet he had previously tossed on the bed. He ripped it open with his teeth and slid it over his length.
“Now just let me know if I need to go slow okay? Gotta let me know if you’re hurting.” He kissed her forehead.
“O-Okay.” She nodded.
He aimed himself at her entrance, his broad tip stretching her as he slowly inched inside her tight heat.
The two immediately gasped as it went in, exhaling as he fit himself inside her.
He groaned low in his throat, “Fuck, you’re so tight. You weren’t kidding”
“W-Whatever. You’re just too fucking big.” Y/n mumbled.
“Mm but you’re taking me so good beautiful.” He picked up his pace.
Jungkook grunted, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he slowly thrust deeper.
“Take a deep breath, baby. You can do it.” He encouraged her.
“Fuckkkk” She groaned “Shits starting to fit perfectly.”
He pulled back to look at her, a smirk on his face. “That's it, take every inch. Your pussy takes it so good.”
He started to move, his thrusts deep and steady. One hand released her wrists to grab her hip, pulling her into each thrust.
“Feels so good.” She breathed out.
“You have no idea.” He growled, his pace increasing as he pounded into her.
“Fuck, I love this tight pussy.” He reached between them, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you squeeze my dick more.”
“You’re so rough” She giggled, blushing.
He grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs wider as he continued to rail her.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mixed with their heavy panting and her screams of pleasure. “That's it, baby. Take it. Fuck.”
She whined “So…Fucking…Mmm…Good”
He leaned down to kiss her, muffling her cries as he continued to thrust into her hard and fast.
His own grunts of pleasure filled the gaps between her moans. “You're so close, baby. I can feel your body gripping me tighter. Let go pretty girl.”
Her body trembled, “Y-yeah.” She was under him, shaking and whining.
He felt her walls clamp down on him, her orgasm hitting her hard. He didn't hold back, letting her cum before quickly pulling out and cumming all over her stomach through the condom.
He quickly rolled over beside her, the two panting.
“You better not tell Namjoon.”
“Oh I have to tell Namjoon.” He chuckled.
“You can’t!” She tried to catch her breath. “Then he’ll be right.”
“About?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“He told me that I would end up going home with you tonight.” She mumbled.
“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “Worked out for me.” He wrapped his arm around her.
“Worked out a little too well, I actually did it.” She shook her head.
“Mm it worked out for me real baby I got a pretty girl in my bed.” He taunted.
“Whatever! I was supposed to not be here tonight.”
“But are you regretting this?” He stared at her.
“No…”
“Then it doesn’t matter. Let him be right.” Jungkook shrugged. “At the end of the day, I’m the real winner.”
#jungkook#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts jimin#jimin and jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk fic#bts jeongguk#jeongguk smut#jeon jeongguk#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook#jeon jungguk#bts army#bts#bts jin#bts pjm#bts updates#bts fanfic#bts x reader
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I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)
A (partial) buck/tommy texting story
Buck forms a great bond with Tommy over the months after they meet, and buck tries to ignore the crush slowly blossoming in him, until Tommy starts dating another man, and jealousy causes his feelings to bloom beyond his control.
Part 1/5
It’s been 3 months since Tommy flew the 118 into the hurricane to help them save Bobby and Athena. They’ve become such great friends since then. They share so many hobbies, and teach each other so many new things. Buck’s never had a friendship like this before with anyone and he’s never been happier.
When Buck and Tommy meet up for beers, Buck gets a few too many beers in him and starts venting to Tommy for the first time, deepening their friendship in new ways.
They talk about their struggles with jealousy, loneliness and their past selves, all while they’re bashing Gerrard who recently took command at the 118.
After last call, they get in an Uber together and Tommy makes sure Buck is safe and sound and tucked into bed before calling another Uber for himself.
When Buck woke up the next morning, he read Tommy’s texts with a smile on his face. There was a comforting warmth to Tommy’s tone in all of these texts. Buck couldn’t quite place it but it meant a lot to him and he was even happier to have a friend like Tommy in his life.
And while Buck wasn’t looking forward to his shift, he always looked forward to leaning on Tommy at the end of the day.
Buck put a great deal of time and care into prepping and packing the snacks. His heart was racing and his stomach was tumbling with excitement. He caught himself, chipper and flustered, acting as if he were preparing to go on a date.
I just really like hanging out with Tommy. He’s so cool. Buck told himself.
Even as he meticulously wrapped (freshly cooked) chicken wraps and sealed them with some little packaging stickers he’d bought ages ago and never used. Even as he chose the perfect hiking outfit with careful consideration. Even as he stared at himself in the mirror for 10 minutes and made sure he looked good.
I just like hanging out with him. He’s the coolest guy I know. Buck reminded himself again.
Buck couldn’t stop smiling at his phone. His heart was beating wildly in anticipation of those 3 knocks on his door.
Buck usually knew who was at the door by the knock. Eddie knocks 5 times. Bobby knocks 4 times. Maddie also knocks 3 times but it’s soft and swift. When Tommy knocks, it’s 3 firm “I’m here and I really would like to see you” knocks.
At least Buck thought so. Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Sometimes his brain would take him to weird places and he would simply follow it down the rabbit hole.
For now, he needed to get his boots on and ignore this wave of emotions.
It’s just a hike with a friend.
#i didn't know i wanted you (until i couldn't have you)#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#firefly.social#firebeast.doc
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Dessert or Disaster?
Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. You two are in love, but you two are both stubborn. Will you both put aside your pride to make this work? Can one or both of you be humbled?
Word count: 3.5 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after ...As Hard As I Did but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is the filthiest these two have gotten. Ms. Independent Syndrome, Mr. Chauvanist condition. Argument, angst, the silent treatment, tipsy girl's night out revenge, jealous Bucky, jealous reader, handsy random Drunk guy, who gets laid out. Sam shows up. Dom/sub elements, mild BDSM exploration. Spanking, orgasm denial, humiliation kink, praise kink, talk of voyeriusm kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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James Buchanan Barnes didn’t own you.
But he thought he did.
It was infuriating.
After a month of dating, you’d had your first fight. Bucky always paid whenever you went out, and last Sunday, when you both reached for the check at brunch, there was a slight tussle.
You laughed as Bucky scowled, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious about paying. You became indignant, and you may have called him a controlling crime boss.
Bucky definitely called you an entitled brat and you may have stormed away and walked home, refusing to get back in the car with him. Bucky followed you in his sportscar as you pretended he wasn’t there.
You were shaking with rage by the time you reached your brownstone and Bucky parked illegally.
“Frumoasă, let’s talk–”
“There is nothing to talk about, James. If you can’t respect my boundaries, then I don’t know what to say. I need space. Time to think.”
You glanced at him, but you looked away from the hurt on his face.
“What does that mean?”
You cringed at the hurt in his voice.
“I– we. Listen, you were right. We went way fast with this. It’s a lot, Jamie.”
You loved the fuck out of this man, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Bucky’s voice cracked and you looked up into his ocean blue, watery eyes.
“No?”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure, James.”
“I thought you were mine?”
You paused and took a deep breath.
“You don’t own me. You can’t do whatever you want…”
Bucky just looked at you as if he were about to debate that fact. Then, he raised his hands and backed away.
“Our dinner date still stands. Maybe Saturday night, we can talk about this like adults…”
Your ire was raised once again.
“I am an adult, Bucky. And you are too. You should listen to me when I-”
Bucky interrupted you and ran his hand through his hair, which he had been growing out. Just for you. He was extremely frustrated.
“This relationship has been predicated on nothing but your boundaries.”
It was a standoff. You two stared at each other, an invisible wall between you. You didn’t like how it felt.
“Like I said, we need a break.”
“We agree on something, at least.”
Bucky turned and walked back to his car, and you both closed your doors at the same time, hearts beating out of tune.
—-
You only cried for a couple of hours that day, but when you woke up to no good morning text from Bucky on Monday morning, you cried again. You were hurt, angry and anxious. Were you two over and done with? You threw yourself into work, trying not to feel your emotions.
By Tuesday, Bucky was being driven mad with images of you, sensations of holding you in his arms, feeling your body around him, your voice telling him that you loved him.
Steve sensed his mood, but did not press him, just complied when Bucky asked him to speed up the timeline to divest themselves of all illegal enterprises.
On Wednesday, you were feeling some kind of way. How dare he just ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist. Was he trying to punish you or something? You didn’t realize how much Bucky’s attention mattered to you. But you bet he knew very well. You decided to have big, big fun that night with your girls.
Of course, Bucky still had eyes on you, so he knew you were safe, but he told Nico and crew to fall back a little. He didn’t want to crowd you. But he was going crazy at the fact that you didn’t reach out to him. He was giving you the space you requested and hoped that you would come back to him of your own accord. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything. It was a matter of principle, not pride.
At least that was what he told himself.
There were some things you needed to understand, however. Bucky was just trying to take care of you. You loved him, and he loved you. This thing was destiny. And you couldn’t run from that.
Wednesday night, he got a text from you. He sighed as he headed toward your location.
—-
You wore a more revealing outfit than you usually did. You were wearing a backless top that showcased your braless breasts and the cool night had sharpened your nipples into hard peaks, pressing through the thin material. You may have been thinking about Bucky tearing the top off of you roughly, or taking off carefully, or leaving it on you as he fucked you. He would still pay attention to your nipples no matter what. You were horny for your man, and not thinking about tempting anyone else.
So you decided to break the ice and send him a selfie.
When Bucky didn’t respond, you got angry all over again. How dare he just continue to ignore you? You were a queen, and you were going to act like one. You went to the club, got tipsy, and acted as if you were in college again, taking drinks from anyone who offered. And there were lots of offers. You danced with your girls, and later, with the men who bought you drinks.
It was all harmless fun, right?
Through the crowd and the flashing lights, you saw a familiar profile, a head of hair and those unmistakable shoulders. Bucky was there, and his body language indicated that he was aware and interested in what you were doing.
So you gave him a show.
A woman came up to him and he looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. A jolt of jealousy rocked your body when he moved to a quiet corner with her and of all the colors in the club, all you could see was red. When she smiled up at him and her hand reached for his arm, you began grinding on the body behind you.
The man pulled you closer and practically yelled in your ear.
“You come here often?”
You rolled your eyes as his hands squeezed your hips and moved down.
“Yeah. Let’s just dance.”
You moved his hands away but then they glided over your stomach and skimmed your back, thumbs brushing dangerously near your top. He pulled you even closer and started grinding as you tried to keep his octopus arms off of you. You glanced toward the corner and saw one person talking on the other locked in on you. And then moving in your direction.
You were relieved and terrified, because what had you gotten yourself into?
And what was Bucky going to do now? He looked like an animal, stalking his prey, dangerous.
The stranger moved his hands again and you recoiled, just as Bucky’s hand landed on your bare shoulder.
“That’s enough. Time to go.”
The random guy chucked his chin up at Bucky.
“Who the fuck are you? Me and my girl are dancing here.”
You heard a record scratch, even though the music was still blaring.
“What did you say?”
Now you were afraid for this man’s life.
“C’mon James, let’s go. He’s drunk off his ass.”
You tried to pull him away, but he was not moved, staring down the man who would go down if Bucky breathed on him the wrong way. After a second, Bucky turned toward you, fury in his eyes.
You breathed a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were in for it. But Drunk Guy just had to open his mouth.
“Fucking whore. Acting like a slut on the dance floor and then leaving with this—”
And it was lights out for Drunk Guy, because Bucky Barnes laid him out flat with one punch.
Sam appeared out of nowhere to control the crowd as Bucky steered you through the crowd. His tense hand on your back sent a flash of dark excitement through you. He guided you by the elbow through the kitchen of the club. He took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders before taking you out to the cold alley to his waiting car. He walked you around the passenger side and opened the door, but before you could get in, a tug on your arm sobered you up.
You turned to see so much ice in Bucky’s glare. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.
“You are in so much trouble,” Bucky’s lowly growled threat made goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you mean?”
You shaky voice belied your nerves.
“Get this clear, Frumoasă. You are, in fact, mine. That man’s hands were all over your body. All over what was mine.”
Bucky was leaning down, face close to yours, rage barely contained. You knew he would never truly hurt you, but…
“I had things under control,” you urgently whispered back. You wouldn’t back down from him.
“What about you? Who were you huddled up with in the corner?.”
Bucky’s eyes glinted.
“Jealous?”
He got even closer.
“No, you are,”
Bucky’s jaw tensed, and a vein pulsed in his neck. You hit a nerve.
“I know that woman from… from before you. She means nothing to me.”
Bucky brought his hand up to your neck and buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of your head. He tangled your curls and tugged, none too gently, bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“I don’t want her. There is no one but you. “
You were trembling in his grip, panties soaked, mouth open for breath. Seeing Bucky this worked up brought out something in you. Something you didn’t realize was there.
“Take me home, James.”
“Y/N.”
His voice chilled you. He gave you a cold smile.
“I said you were in trouble, and I meant it. You’re getting punished.”
Your jaw dropped, and your face flamed as you started to say something. But a wave of need crashed into your cunt. You were intrigued.
“What are you going to do?”
Your voice wavered despite your efforts to appear calm. Good lord you wanted this.
“What you deserve,” he said calmly, gesturing for you to get into the car. You resisted.
“Tell me now.”
He indicated the car again and you sat down, trembling as he buckled you in and walked around to the driver's seat. You took a deep breath before he got in himself.
Bucky leaned toward you menacingly.
“You have driven me to the edge these past few days, Y/N. I love you, I don’t know how else to explain this to you, so I’m going to show you tonight with a consequence for your actions. Either you accept that consequence and come to my place, or I drive you home. And we seriously reconsider what we’re doing here.”
You looked into his icy blues and you knew he was serious. You two had talked about some kinks and limits while starting to experiment with his more dominant side and your submissive side. These versions of you first manifested when you called him ‘Daddy.’ Punishment and reward was a heavy theme in your verbal foreplay. A little humiliation and praise was mixed into your physicality, and it thrilled you.
Bucky made you feel safe, and tonight you had been unsafe.
“I’ll take my punishment, Daddy.”
Bucky’s eyes stuttered half closed, but he quickly recovered, managing to stay cool toward you as he whispered a gruff, “Good."
He started the car and pulled into the street, headed toward Brooklyn.
"Now sit back and make yourself invisible. I’m trying to calm down and I need to concentrate to not be too rough with you when we get home."
You settled back into your seat, thinking hard about that word, ‘home.’
—--
Bucky virtually ignored you until you got into his bedroom, and you surprised yourself with how much you just wanted him to look at you. You were a whore for his attention. And now you knew that he knew that.
That’s when you realized that your punishment had already begun.
You walked ahead of him on shaky legs on the deep pile carpet of his bedroom, legs shaking and heat emanating from your core. You felt his hand tug you to a stop as he turned you around to face him.
Bucky took his jacket off of your shoulders as he finally looked at you, admiring the pout on your face.
“You were a good girl. So silent on the ride over and in the elevator.”
You shuddered as he spoke and as his fingers touched your bare shoulders.
“You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?”
His palm moved from your shoulder up to your cheek.
“Yet you weren’t a good girl earlier tonight, were you?”
He was so close to you, his lips millimeters from yours.
“James, please –”
The space between your lips was driving you crazy.
“I think you need to be spanked, Frumoasă.”
His voice was so calm, in contrast to the whirlwind inside you. You were anxious, but you wanted this in your soul.
“We will talk while I spank you. You have got to understand how much I care for you. How much I love you.”
Anger with a rush of excitement coursed through your body.
“I— This is— Fuck,” you whispered.
Bucky pecked your lips, allowing just one bright spot of tenderness before he abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Over my lap, Frumoasă.”
“Christ, James.”
“Now.”
His eyes were iceberg blue. There was no trace of soft Bucky.
“Or I will put you there myself.”
“Do it,” you whispered, ever defiant.
In an instant, you were thrown over the bed like you weighed nothing, and flipped onto his lap.
“There we go.”
His satisfied voice made you shiver. A large hand slipped off your heels and peeled your leggings down your legs. You squirmed, knowing that he could see the wet spot on your your panties.
“Esti atat de frumoasă iubirea mea.” You are so beautiful my love.
He smoothed your panties against your wet crease before he yanked them down in one swift movement, exposing you to the cool air in his bedroom.
“I’m going to enjoy this. You, not so much,”
“Get on with it.”
“Watch your mouth, and stop rolling your eyes.”
Bucky squeezed your ass cheek as he read you like a book, and you braced for a blow.
“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded in a whisper, chastened now.
“This isn’t going to be about pain.”
You rubbed your nipples against the comforter, searching for some relief to the sexual tension coursing through your body.
“Then what?”
You were breathless as he rubbed circles on your ass. A slap landed, quick and stinging, causing you to jump.
“It’s about you being a spoiled little princess.”
His voice was rougher. Oh Lord. That nickname was your undoing. It felt so right.
“I am not!”
You gasped when he spanked you again, heat radiating from the spot.
“Brat. Don’t contradict me.”
Fingers slipped into your folds.
“See? A spoiled, wet princess.”
You bucked, lifting your ass to his touch, not trying to hide your reaction.
“Mmm, you like being called that, don’t you? Your body can’t hide the truth.”
“Daddy…”
You buried your face in the bed as he rubbed your clit. How could he be so calm?
“That’s it, Prinţesă Open up for me.”
More spanks made you moan wantonly.
“I’m going to fuck you you here…”
Two fingers moved deep into your cunt..
“…And here.”
He lightly stroked the cleft of your ass.
“Yes, I want you there. Please!”
Bucky’s intake of breath told you that he hadn’t expected your response.
“Iti place, Prinţesă aia? You like that?”
“God, it feels so good.”
Bucky circled your tight hole and worked a finger inside.
“Fuck, you feel so tight and untouched,” he crooned as you arched into his hands.
“Almost innocent. But you are anything but, aren’t you? You were acting like a slut earlier. Letting him touch what’s mine.”
“James—”
You were angry and yet so close to cumming at the same time.
Bucky laughed.
“You wanted attention, now you have it. Do you want me to have Sam bring him here to watch me do this to you? Or should I just call Sam? Or Steve? Or Nat? All three perhaps? You need an audience, Frumoasă?”
You were so wet at what he was saying despite your embarassment.
“Look at you.”
His voice was so condescending. Why did that get you even wetter?
“You are so worked up over the idea. They’d be eager. They all say how fine you are, and how they would have you right where I do if I hadn’t made the first move.”
You pussy spasmed as he plunged two fingers inside you again while his thumb pressed down on your clit. He pulled away before you could fall over the edge and you grunted in frustration.
“It’ll never happen though, because you’re mine. My little slut. My cum whore.”
A smack stung your ass.
“Fuuuckkkk, Jamie….”
You were shuddering, shaking, creaming all over his hand.
“My pure and total slut. In every way.”
You kicked, your ass fluttering around the two fingers he had inserted. Your pussy was gushing, but you could find no relief. Another hard smack rained down and you cried out.
“Do you think I could ever look at anyone else while you are in the world, Frumoasă? A thousand women could be in here — naked, begging — and I wouldn’t look their way. Not once."
“James—”
“Not when you’re here, so pretty on my lap, with your pussy on fire and your body desperate for what I can give you.”
You whimpered and tried to close your legs for pressure on your clit, but Bucky spread your thighs with his hands and stared down into your shiny, wet cunt.
“And you're not just desperate.”
Bucky was relentless.
“You're greedy. They would have to watch while I fucked you, because you can’t wait.”
“Oh, fuck, Jamesssss!”
“That’s why I give you all my time, my attention, all my money, because I will give you anything you ask for. And more, Frumoasă.”
You hid your face, slung over his lap, and his big fingers began stroking in and out of you again.
Lightning bolted through you.
You gasped and clamped down on his hand. You came so hard. And then he was spanking you again. Your ass was numb now.
Somehow you wound up on the bed, belly-down, knees on the floor with Bucky kneeling behind you. You arched your back, body begging for him. Another slap landed on your heated ass.
“Look at you, putting on a show. Just like earlier in the middle of the dance floor. But all of this is mine. No one else’s.”
Bucky grasped your breasts through your thin top and you whimpered, face down on his bed, presenting for him, spreading your legs, beckoning him to stop the torture and enter you.
“Need your cock, Daddy. Please. I’m sorry!”
A sudden smack on your clit made you cry out. Pleasure bloomed out from your cunt and your thighs were now soaked.
“Yes, you need me. And it’s okay. It’s okay to be taken care of, to lose control. I’ve got you Frumoasa.”
For once, you had nothing to say, you just gripped the covers as Bucky lifted your hands and moved them behind your back, holding them together.
“I wish you could see your ass right now, Baby.”
His voice was husky with lust.
“It’s so red and so warm. So fucking beautiful. But you deserve my cock, too, don’t you?”
He sank into you without warning, your wetness enabling him to sink in with one thrust. You were helpless; you just had to take it. You moaned as his thumb entered your ass as he squeezed your hip. And you felt so full, fucked sensless by his relentless nature.
“So fucking wet,” he growled. “And you want me to fuck your ass.”
“Please, Daddy…”
You were sobbing now, wanting everything he was giving you, everything he was saying, and more.
“Please cum inside me.”
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Love it when you beg. You should see the creamy goodness you are leaving around my cock..”
Bucky threw his head back and moaned, shutting his eyes tight from the erotic sight. His thrusts became erratic as his cum hit your wet, hot walls. Your mouth opened in a wide O and a silent scream as you came around him.
He growled as he finished, his hand rubbing your back as he softened inside you. You slumped against the bed as he rained kisses down your spine.
“Are you okay, Prinţesă?”
You smiled.
“More than okay.”
Bucky smiled and kissed your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. He came back, cleaned you up, and helped you to fully undress as you climbed into his bed.
He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you and made you drink, before he took off his clothes and climbed into bed with you and took you into his arms.
“Do you still love me, Y/N?”
Confident, dominant Bucky Barnes was gone. You looked up into his uncertain blue eyes.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t. I love you, James Barnes. I’m still yours. It’s just— I’ve been taking care of myself for so long that I don’t know how–”
Bucky put his finger over your lips.
“That’s all I wanted to hear right now. Let’s get some rest. We will talk in the morning. I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, so much, Frumoasă.”
You kissed him and relaxed into his arms.
“You own me, Frumoasă, body and soul.”
—-
Let me know if you like this one! 😁
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