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mazikeenhyde · 3 months ago

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Oh Baby, Pain is Pleasure - Part 3

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER)

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART!-

SMUT, GIRL X GIRL, MAN X MAN, POLY RELATIONSHIPS/SEXUAL, BDSM, BLOOD, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) CHEATING, STALKERS/ STALKING

I’m going to apologize to you all now, and prewarn you in advance, this is an absolute rollercoaster of a storyline! Shits about to get REAL messy!

TAG LIST - @babybatlover

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure – Part 3

Late afternoon had seen the sun burn the remainder of the clouds from the sky, leaving a beautiful blue horizon view from across the backyard. Flocks of birds gathered as they headed over the break line, waving in and out of the smoke coming from our BBQ pit.

I sat, gently rocking my feet back and forth on the chair egg swing we had attached to one of the older grand oak trees in our yard. It was all I had wanted when we moved in, somewhere calm and content where I could just exist. Enjoy my time, enjoy my life, and admire the world around me. Ponder life’s big questions…

‘LOCKER WITNESSES’

I re read that message repeatedly in my mind, who was it from? witnessed what?

I had deleted the other text from my phone, I wasn’t going down that road.

The sounds of two men’s deep voices bought me back, looking over to my lovers I could see Finn & Damien adorned in their matching ‘TOP CHEF’ aprons and cooking utensils with a beer in hand, either chatting away or debating about how best to cook the chicken.

Whilst further down on the sun loungers, Rhea had stripped down to one of her thin black bikinis with the metal skull clip fastenings, she was catching the last of the sunrays to her already perfect Sunkissed skin. Christ, how did I get so lucky as to be a part of this incredible love…. Pentagon? It’s a five-way love triangle, let’s leave it at that.

When we had been initially searching for a house to buy, one to really call home that is; we had all had something in mind we desperately wanted as a feature. We knew it needed to be a big house, one with a master bedroom where we could assemble out two King size beds that had been custom made to attach in the middle, I cannot begin to tell you how comfortable and comforting it is being held close and safe by the four people you love more than anything in the world.

The guilt though…

Still, obviously Rhea & Finn were dead set on having a large garage/ open internal space to set up the home gym. Of course, whilst on the road we still used a lot of public gyms and one-off hotel workout rooms here and there, but when we are at home, in each other’s company, away from the world, the fans, all that attention. It is so lovely knowing we don’t have to leave our little safe haven.

Damian had specifically made it clear he wanted a huge kitchen, open planned that backed into a dinning area. When we moved in, he had taken the time to build up a barista style coffee corner and a breakfast station on the central island. Then with Finn’s help, they worked on a D.I.Y project together to design and create a full bar set up next to the table and chairs where we ate. They had eventually given in and allowed Dom to help with the painting of the bar, because he wanted to be a ‘DIY Man’ too.

The boys always referred to it as the lad’s corner, a custom-built wooden bar that was painted a deep tranquil green and black with illuminated LED letters on the wall; ‘ALL RISE, ALL DRINK’. That however did not stop Rhea and I from emptying some of those back bar bottles on one of many messy nights! For some reason, whenever Rhea breaks out the Tequila, we always end up playing strip twister… Odd.

Dominick, of course… wanted a gaming room. Not just any gaming room mind you, a ‘Mens” gaming room.

*Sigh*

Problem is he is just so adorable at times, and we all give in, he had been granted his request of course! Although Priest put his foot down when Dom had asked for an indoor arcade style basketball hoop game, he was allowed a hoop outside but that was it. We had all seen enough broken windows during the season when Finn had tried to teach Damien and Dominick how to play golf.

It still makes me laugh when the boys talk about how they would feel guilty that they were off spending time together, while Rhea and I would miss out? Ha. Little did they know when they buggered off to do ‘man’s stuff’ we girls would high tail it upstairs to the family bathroom and strip off into the bathtub for some… girl’s time. *Wink Wink*

I remember one morning; Rhea and I were standing in the arched doorway at the crack of dawn waving the boys off as they set out on an early start to play a full days Golf. Leaning into her chest I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes as she bent her head down and nuzzled her lips into the crook of my neck.

“I tell you now Y/N, I would rather run the risk of drowning when we get in that bathtub, and I bury my face deep in your pussy… then stand in a damp field hitting a stick at a ball.” Her teeth nipped at the skin of my ear lobe and my entire body melted at her touch.

Christ the things that woman does to me.

A loud crash had bought me back to reality, Dom had been trying to carry a tray of drinks out to the garden for us all but had tripped over some excess weigh plates we had left outside, sending the poor lad flying arse over tit.

“Shit! God damn it, ow fuck!” Dom pulled himself up to his knees, swiping the drinks tray away in frustration before noticing blood trickling down his arm from the glasses that he had smashed across the decking. He was quick to freeze, unable to process what to do next or how to stand up safely.

Rhea was quick to make her way over to him from the sun lounger, followed by Damian who handed Finn his spatula and beer before rushing over to help the poor lad.

I know, I know I should have been focused on the fact that the boy I loved so much needed some help, some TLC, compassion, and support…

But I am only human.

And Rhea Bloody Ripley….

Running….

In a mini black laced bikini…

Slightly wet from the heat of the sun touching her skin, God how she glistened. How she got my motor running and…

Finn had noticed my distraction and whistled loudly, gathering my attention.

“Aye! Lass, enough of that! Go... Take a lap!” He gestured, pointing to the end of the field in our garden. The yard stretched about 1/4 of a mile down and was cut off by the woodland. One of my favorite things about this house was the nature that came with it. It all felt so…natural and back down to earth compared to the chaos and mayhem at WWE.

Pointing his BBQ tongs and Damian’s spatula at me, Finn raised his eyebrow.

“No distractions, ya hear!”

I tried not to laugh at his remark, turning my face away to hide my snicker and rolling my eyes. I was still wearing my gym gear from before; except I had nabbed one of Dominick’s merch shirts on the way to the garden from the drying rack, I was self-conscious about my stomach, and I liked to hide my body where I could.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?!” Finn sternly questioned me as he put the utensils down.

At this point Rhea was taking Dom inside through the double doors, whilst Damian stood back up and turned in my direction.

Fuck… they are hot when they get all dominant.

“Mi Vida, did you roll your eyes?” Damian’s words were colder, flat, and prominent. I could tell he was almost looking for a reason to get me upstairs into the bedroom. Christ I was half tempted to give him a solid reason.

Put me across your lap Papa Priest, let me feel the strength between your thighs and lay it into me Goddamn it!

The devil on my shoulder sang its heart out at the idea, but I remembered earlier when Finn has spun the actions back against me. Leaving me alone and sexually frustrated I thought better of the situation.

“Me? I would never…” I said quite obnoxious/sarcastically and smiled that cheeky brat look at them before hopping up off the tree swing. I could see Damian trying not to break or give in… but a slight smirk crept into the corner of his lips.

“I’m going to take a lap!” I stated and grinned before making a run for it, heading down and out of sight from the lads. I had a much better plan in mind to deal with my frustrations when I got in the shower later anyway.

I was out of breath by the time I got back towards our street, less than a ¼ mile to go! I had decided to go for a proper run to clear my mind. A good few miles should do the trick, that’s what Rhea always said! With my headphones in and a decent playlist on, nothing was going to stop me!

One foot after another I pressed on, sweat dripping down my neck I desperately tried to Shake off all that nervous energy I had built up now that WrestleMania was less than 2 weeks away. I had been on edge at times, and it showed when I trained in the ring with Rhea and Dom. Running back-to-back moves, counters, pins, and submissions, it was like every time I thought I had learnt it someone would come along and wipe my slate clean, and I knew nothing again.

Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a champion?

Maybe I was out of my depth?

Rhea should be in this match not me.

Me? Y/W/N? Was I really cut out to be a champion?

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket as I continued running. I tried looking at my smart watch as I ran, though it was tricky to focus on a smaller screen.

I could see a couple messages from Finn stating the food was ready, one from Damian also telling me the food was ready, one from Dom telling me he was going to eat my hot dog if I didn’t hurry up and one from Rhea telling me she wasn’t going to let Dom touch my food.

Honestly this lot, I love them so much.

Turning into our street I could see our house gate entrance just up the hill, with a little spring in my step I pushed on feeling like I was picking up speed. I felt energized, I felt incredible, maybe I could do this after all!

With the gate just in reach and the sweet smokey smell of the BBQ lingering in the air I put my head down to push those least few feet…

But within a split second I felt something behind me.

The music cut out as my headphones were launched to the floor and my arms locked in tight by a strength I hadn’t ever had to match. Kicking my legs out I felt them rise off the floor and before I could even fathom the mental capacity to make a sound the feeling of sticky back plastic tape suckered its way in across my lips. My eyes pooled up as the bag went over my head and my vision became darkness. A hard and cold metal floor was met with my body weight as I was hurled inside, my heart beating out of my chest the fear became all too real as I felt the ground under move away at speed.

A hot breath came down my neck, raising every last hair on my skin to react. The voice was muffled, as if speaking through a mask.

“You did this Y/N…”

“You did this… and now you cannot handle the monster you created.”

The silence in between each word was deafening, but it was the next voice that bought the fear of God into my soul.

“ Told you I’d find you...miss me?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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verstappensrealwife · 9 months ago

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Home is you - Fernando Alonso x Reader

fluff.

age-gap. not specifically mentioned but the reader is younger.

approx. 1000 words

fernando alonso masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

Seated in the luxurious confines of his private jet, en route to Bahrain for the electrifying Grand Prix season opener, you found yourself ensconced in a cocoon of anticipation and desire. Across from you lounged the man who ignited flames of passion within your soul, his intense gaze igniting a firestorm of longing and yearning deep within you. As you gazed out of the window, ensnared by the mesmerising spectacle of clouds stretching endlessly across the cerulean expanse, his voice, velvety and laden with desire, pierced through the tranquil ambiance.

“Go on a date with me,” he murmured huskily beside you, his words dripping with an intoxicating blend of sincerity and playful allure.

You turned to him, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the unexpected proposition. “Pardon?” you replied, your voice laced with amusement and a hint of teasing.

“Please~ go on a date with me?” he pleaded, his smile infused with the heady scent of whiskey that hung in the air, a testament to his valiant efforts to ease his nerves during the flight.

Amused by his endearing persistence, you leaned in closer, revelling in the magnetic pull between you. “I don’t know if my dad will approve of you, sir,” you teased, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

“What!” he exclaimed, his offence giving way to a grin of delight. “Let me talk to your dad, sweetheart, I’m sure I could convince him.”

After a brief pause, he regarded you with a dreamy expression, his eyes alight with adoration. “You’re pretty,” he declared softly, his gaze tracing the contours of your face with reverence. “D- Do you have a boyfriend, pretty?” he hiccupped slightly, his smile widening with each passing moment.

You nodded, a tender smile playing on your lips. “A husband, actually,” you replied, your tone infused with affection and determination.

His brow furrowed in confusion, his expression a mixture of disbelief and jealousy. “Leave him, be with me!” he urged, his words slurred with the remnants of alcohol. “Who is this man?” he demanded, his concern palpable.

With a knowing smile, you retrieved your phone, turning the screen towards him to reveal his own reflection staring back at him. “Wh- Wait, I am your husband!” he exclaimed, realisation dawned on him. “So can we go out on the date I planned?”

You nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand affectionately before attempting to release it. However, he held on tightly, his grip a reassuring anchor in the swirling sea of emotions.

Later, in the privacy of the opulent hotel room, he began to sober up (barely), the lingering effects of alcohol fading away as he prepared for the evening ahead. With meticulous care, he adorned himself in his finest attire, his efforts a testament to his unwavering devotion to you. As you emerged from the bathroom, your beauty was enhanced by the artful application of makeup, his breath caught in his throat, his heart swelling with an overwhelming surge of desire.

“Whoa… Hola Cariño,” he joked, his voice husky with desire as he approached you, his hands tracing the curves of your body with electrifying precision. “I could just cancel dinner, then we could skip right to dessert?”

You blushed, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Shut up,” you countered, a coy smile playing on your lips. “But no— I just dressed up all nice for you— so you are gonna wine and dine me.” With a gentle press of your hands against his chest, you planted a tender kiss on his cheek, his grin widening as he playfully smacked your ass before guiding you towards the door, anticipation burning like a blazing inferno between you.

Under the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, you and your partner find yourselves nestled in a cozy corner of the enchanting garden café. The air is still alive in the evening, with the melody of chirping birds and the gentle rustle of leaves, lending an ethereal quality to the evening.

As you sip on glasses of sparkling champagne, your fingers intertwined with Fernando's, you can't help but marvel at the sheer magic of the moment. Across the table, his eyes sparkle with affection, mirroring the starlight above as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours in a sweet symphony of intimacy.

With a playful twinkle in their eye, your partner reaches for a delicate rose nestled in a vase on the table, presenting it to you with a flourish. "For the most beautiful woman I've ever set my eyes on," He whispers, his voice a tender caress against your ear.

Your heart swells with warmth as you accept the flower, its petals soft beneath your fingertips. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice filled with gratitude and love.

Together, you share laughter and stories, each moment infused with a sense of joy and wonder. The world fades away as you lose yourselves in each other's company, the hours slipping by unnoticed in the embrace of your love.

As the night deepens, he rises from his seat, extending a hand towards you with a smile. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief and longing.

You accept with a smile, rising gracefully to your feet as he leads you to a makeshift dance floor bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. With gentle movements and whispered promises, you sway together in perfect harmony, lost in the rhythm of the music and the embrace of each other's arms.

In that moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of love and affection. With every step, every touch, you feel your bond deepening, your souls intertwining in a dance as old as time itself.

As the song draws to a close, you find yourselves reluctant to part, the magic of the evening lingering like a sweet, lingering dream.

el fin

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dewdropdinosaur · 8 months ago

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Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances? Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity.

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too.

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke.

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame. In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least.

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look.

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too.

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oceandolores · 1 month ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 13

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

summary: both of you and joel still feel the shadows from your past and...a mysterious man...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 13

masterlist!

previous | chapter 12

next | chapter 14

The warm, sultry air of Louisiana clung to your skin as Joel eased the truck into the grand driveway of the hotel. The fading sunlight bathed the building in a soft, golden hue, casting long shadows over the narrow streets of New Orleans. The hotel stood like a relic of a bygone era—elegant, stately, and dripping in the charm of the 1920s. Wrought-iron balconies curled around its façade, their intricate designs reminiscent of a time when craftsmanship was an art form. Tall, arched windows, framed by deep green shutters, gave the place an air of mystery, while the soft glow of gas lanterns flickered against the approaching twilight, welcoming you into a world where time seemed to slow down.

Joel parked and turned to you with a knowing smile, catching the awe in your eyes as you took in the opulence. “What do you think?” His voice was warm and easy, like the honeyed notes of a Southern drawl.

You exhaled, still mesmerized by the hotel’s vintage charm. “It’s beautiful, Joel. Feels like stepping into another time.”

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and comforting. “Only the best for you, darlin’.”

You stepped out of the truck, the cool tiles beneath your shoes a stark contrast to the heat lingering in the air. Together, you began unloading the bags, your hands brushing his as you reached for the same suitcase. His touch, steady and reassuring, anchored you in this unfamiliar, yet intoxicatingly beautiful place. The hotel, with its antique grandeur and whispers of a decadent past, made you feel both lost and found all at once.

As Joel handed the last bag to the bellhop, you let your gaze wander. The lobby was a perfect blend of sophistication and old-world elegance. Polished marble floors gleamed under the soft light of crystal chandeliers, their glow casting a golden shimmer across the room. The furniture—plush velvet armchairs in deep, jewel tones—was arranged in intimate clusters, as if inviting whispered conversations and stolen moments. A baby grand piano, aged and stately, sat silently in one corner, as if waiting for the night to bring music and life to its keys. The quiet hum of voices, paired with the soft clink of glasses from the bar, added to the atmosphere of quiet luxury.

Joel, noticing your awe, smiled wider. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll grab the keys,” he said, nodding towards the seating area. “I’ve already made the reservation online.”

You settled into a velvet armchair near a set of towering windows that looked out onto a lush courtyard. The ironwork from the balconies extended here, wrapping around the garden where ferns and jasmine climbed the walls, filling the air with their sweet scent. The atmosphere was a mix of tranquility and hidden stories, as if each corner held secrets from a hundred years ago.

While Joel checked in, you let your eyes drift across the room—the shimmering marble, the vintage chandeliers casting a soft, romantic light, and the fresh flowers that added pops of color to the rich, muted tones of the décor.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone—an older man, perhaps in his 50s, with a salt-and-pepper beard and wearing a black leather jacket. He was standing near the entrance, leaning casually against the wall. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn’t quite place it. His eyes were on you, and when your gazes met, he smiled—a small, almost knowing smile—and nodded in your direction.

You glanced behind you, thinking that maybe he was acknowledging someone else, but there was no one there. Your heart skipped a beat, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest. Despite the oddness of it, you smiled back, trying to be polite. But there was something in his eyes, something that sent a chill down your spine, though you couldn’t figure out why.

He looked like he wanted to say something, his lips parting as if he was trying to speak to you from afar. But before you could make sense of it, you heard Joel’s voice, warm and reassuring, pulling your attention back to him.

“Got the key,” Joel said, walking towards you with a satisfied smile on his face. You turned back to where the man had been standing, but he was gone. The spot where he had been was empty, as if he had never been there at all.

You blinked, your mind racing. Had you imagined it? Or was it just a trick of the light? But the unease lingered, a faint shadow in the back of your mind. You wanted to mention it to Joel, but something held you back, the moment passing as quickly as it had come.

“Everything alright?” Joel asked, noticing the slight frown on your face as he handed you the room key.

You forced a smile, pushing the strange encounter to the back of your mind. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Good,” he said, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he led the way toward the elevator. “Let’s get settled in, and then we can figure out what to do for dinner.”

You felt the weight of the day beginning to lift, but there was still that sense of stickiness clinging to your skin, the remnants of the journey. “I need a shower,” you said, almost sheepishly.

Joel nodded, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, pretending to take a deep whiff. He scrunched up his nose in mock disgust. “Yeah, you sure do, darlin’,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Smellin’ like a long road trip in the middle of summer.”

You smacked his arm lightly, unable to suppress a laugh. “You’re so mean.”

His laughter joined yours, rich and comforting, echoing in the grand hallway of the hotel. The bellboy appeared to help with your bags, his polite demeanor contrasting with Joel’s playful teasing. As the three of you stepped into the elevator, the smooth hum of it moving upward felt like the beginning of something new—a journey you had only just embarked on, with so many more miles to go.

Joel turned to you as the elevator doors closed, his expression softening. “So, what do you wanna do while we’re here in New Orleans?"

You shook your head, smiling shyly. "I follow you, Joel. It’s my first time out of… well, you know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He gave you a look filled with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Then we’ll make sure your first time’s unforgettable. Music and the foods, You’re gonna love it.”

***

After shower, You changed quickly, and soon enough, the two of you were out on the streets, hand in hand, the world around you pulsing with energy. The French Quarter was alive—vibrant colors, wrought-iron balconies covered in creeping ivy, the smell of spicy Cajun food mingling with the sweet, smoky air.

Street performers played jazz, the music dancing through the air like something you could reach out and touch. It felt surreal, like you were stepping into a movie, every moment dripping with possibility.

Joel led the way, his grip firm but gentle on your hand. “You ever hear music like this before?” he asked, glancing at you with a soft smile.

“No,” you replied, wide-eyed, trying to soak it all in. “It’s beautiful. It’s like… it fills the air, like it’s a part of the city itself.”

He nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd, ever protective, but he kept his tone light. “Yeah, Feels alive, doesn’t it?”

You smiled, but that same uneasy feeling crept up again. It was subtle, like a whisper in the back of your mind. The crowd, the noise, the rush of the city—it all felt too much for a moment. You glanced around, your eyes scanning the faces of strangers passing by, and there it was again. That feeling.

You tried to shake it off, but something about it gnawed at you. The man from the hotel lobby flashed in your mind—the way he looked at you, too familiar, too knowing. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine as if he could be watching you even now.

Joel must have sensed your discomfort because he squeezed your hand a little tighter, pulling you closer. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low, concerned.

“Yeah, I just... It’s nothing," you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Joel studied you for a moment longer, his brow furrowing in concern, his gaze soft but questioning.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice gentle, the warmth in his eyes wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Babe?"

You nodded quickly, pushing away the thoughts swirling in your head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, feeling the words stick in your throat like sand. "Maybe just tired. I don’t know. It’s been a long day."

Joel’s eyes lingered on you, searching for the truth beneath your words. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel,” he suggested, concern lacing his voice. “You could use some rest, and we can grab a bite there.”

You shook your head, not wanting to ruin the moment, not wanting to burden him with your worries. He was already carrying so much, and the last thing you wanted was to add more weight to his shoulders.

"No, no," you said, forcing a small laugh. "I'm fine, really. I want to explore this town with you. Just the two of us. Let's keep going."

Joel hesitated, his protective instincts kicking in, but he eventually relented, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright. But if you start feelin’ tired, you tell me, okay?”

You nodded again, trying to push away the lingering unease that clung to you like a shadow. The feeling of being watched, of someone’s eyes burning into the back of your neck, wouldn’t go away, but you didn’t want to tell Joel.

You didn’t want to add more to his already heavy heart, didn’t want to give life to the quiet fear that still lurked inside you—the fear that one day, your father might come and tear Joel away from you. That he’d come and steal this happiness, this safety, this love you’d found with Joel.

Sometimes, that fear still gripped you, like a hand squeezing your throat, making it hard to breathe.

It haunted your quiet moments, that dark corner in your mind where your father’s voice still echoed, telling you that you weren’t enough, that you didn’t deserve love.

But with Joel, you felt whole, like you finally had something that was yours.

You glanced at Joel, his strong presence beside you anchoring you to this moment. Maybe you were just imagining things--the man-- just like your father’s lingering shadow.

The man in the hotel lobby, the feeling of being watched... it was probably all in your head. You were just on edge, your mind playing tricks on you.

But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were sure you had seen him before, though you couldn’t remember where. But, you didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now. Not when you were here with Joel, trying to enjoy this fleeting moment of peace together.

Joel’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “You really okay, though?"

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Joel. Really."

He smiled, a slow, easy smile that made your heart feel lighter. “Okay."

As you walked side by side through the vibrant streets of New Orleans, the city seemed to come alive around you.

You took a deep breath, trying to let the warmth of the night soothe you, trying to focus on Joel’s steady presence beside you. His hand slipped into yours again, his fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there, and for a moment, the world felt right again. You held onto that feeling, clinging to it like a lifeline, pushing away the shadows and the fear.

As the two of you strolled down the lively streets, you glanced up at Joel and said, “I’m getting kinda hungry.”

Joel smirked and gave your hand a playful squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, we’re in the land of good food. How ‘bout we stop at the next place that catches our eye?”

You smiled, feeling the tension ease a little. Just being with him made you feel safer, like everything was going to be okay. “Sounds good to me.”

A few blocks later, you spotted a cozy-looking restaurant tucked between two colorful buildings. The windows were lined with flickering candles, and the smell of rich, spicy food wafted out every time the door opened. Joel nodded towards it. “What do you think? Cajun food might hit the spot.”

You grinned, already imagining the warmth of gumbo or jambalaya. “Let’s do it.”

Once inside, the restaurant felt intimate, filled with the low hum of chatter, the clink of silverware, and the occasional burst of laughter. Joel guided you to a table near the back, and as you sat down, he gave the menu a quick glance before turning his attention to you.

The two of you bantered back and forth, finally Joel ordered for both of you, suggesting dishes you couldn’t even pronounce. You watched him, his hands gesturing as he spoke, his voice soft and easy. There was something calming about how natural everything felt with him.

As you both waited for the food, the warmth of Joel’s hand covered yours on the table. His thumb lazily traced circles against your skin, a gesture so small but filled with tenderness.

You looked at him and asked softly, “After this, where do we go next?”

Joel leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought. "Hmm," he mused, glancing around the bustling restaurant as if searching for an answer in the air.

“Well, darlin', where do ya wanna go? We could just keep drivin'. Maybe head to Alabama, or...” His voice trailed off, and he gave you a smile that softened all the edges of his rugged face. “Maybe even stop somewhere near the Gulf. Find ourselves a beach, relax for a bit.”

Your eyes lit up at the thought. “That sounds perfect.”

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and low. “We’ll just take it one town at a time. Motel to motel, ‘cross the states, just you and me.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice turning more thoughtful. “Eventually, we’ll make our way to California. Like our plan."

The thought of it made your heart race. Just you and Joel, together, no one to come between you. “I’d like that,” you whispered, smiling softly.

You were about to say something more when the question bubbled up inside you, almost catching you by surprise. You hesitated for a moment before asking,

“Joel... do you miss Ellie?”

His grip on your hand faltered for a second, just long enough for you to notice. Joel's eyes darkened, and for a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight, the memories of Ellie lingering in the corners of his mind. He stayed silent for what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, before nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice thick. “I do. Very much."

You could feel the weight in his words, the ache that he tried so hard to bury. Ellie was a part of him, in the same way you were becoming. And even though he tried to keep her at arm's length to protect himself, that love—Joel’s fierce, unyielding love—was something that couldn’t be silenced.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you said quietly, guilt bubbling up inside you. “I didn’t mean to take you away from her.”

Joel squeezed your hand again, this time more firmly. His eyes softened as he looked at you, all traces of tension melting away. “Stop that,” he murmured, shaking his head. “This ain’t your fault. None of this is.”

You bit your lip, but the words tumbled out anyway. “But—”

“No,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d go through hell to keep you safe, babygirl. And I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

His words hit you like a prayer—like an old psalm sung at dusk, filled with the weight of promise and sacrifice. Joel had become your protector, your keeper, like an Old Testament shepherd guarding his flock. And though you were not without your own strength, you knew that in his arms, you had found your refuge.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed him, your lips pressing softly against his in a way that felt both new and familiar. Joel kissed you back with a quiet intensity, his hand resting on your cheek, the world around you fading into the background.

For the first time, you weren’t afraid of being caught. The street, the noise, the people—it all disappeared in that moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Joel smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Beautiful girl, my beautiful girl."

But before you could answer, something on the TV in the corner of the restaurant caught your eye. It was a news report, the kind you usually ignored, but this time it made your stomach twist.

Pastor Ben and Jamie Lee.

Both missing. Their faces flashed on the screen as the anchor discussed their sudden disappearance and the ongoing search.

"Oh my god."

You stared at the screen, feeling the air shift around you. Jamie Lee—his name alone was enough to bring back memories you had tried so hard to bury.

You hated him for what he had done, for the pain and humiliation he’d caused. But despite everything, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

After all, forgiveness was what you’d been taught all your life. Turn the other cheek. Forgive those who trespass against you.

Still, it was hard to reconcile that Christian kindness with the anger that bubbled inside you. Jamie had sinned, deeply. If anyone deserved to be lost, it was him.

Joel noticed your sudden stillness and followed your gaze to the TV. His expression darkened, but he said nothing, just watched. You couldn’t see the storm brewing behind his eyes, the fear and guilt clawing at his chest.

He had done what he thought was right—what he had to do. But now, with their faces plastered on the screen, the weight of his actions pressed heavily on him.

You whispered, almost to yourself, “I hated him. But... no one deserves to just disappear like that. Not even him.”

Joel stayed silent, his grip tightening around your hand, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin like a distant drumbeat. He wanted to tell you, to let you know that he had done this for you—for your safety, for your peace. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Not yet.

Joel’s heart ached with a weight that was impossible to shake, even as your words hung in the air between you like a fragile thread. I hated him. But... no one deserves to just disappear like that. Not even him. He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon beyond the courtyard.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t know.

Joel’s mind churned beneath the surface, a storm no one could see. The truth of what he’d done was buried deep—buried like Jamie and Pastor Ben, like the bodies he’d laid to rest in the dark soil, far away from your innocence, your gentle heart. He’d done it for you, every twisted, violent act a means of protecting you from men who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.

Joel’s pulse beat heavy beneath his skin, the thrum of it like a drum, steady and relentless, as memories played behind his eyes. The sharp edge of the shovel digging into earth. The crack of bone. The blood, The silence afterward, so thick it felt like drowning. He had been methodical, precise. He’d done worse in his life—he’d done what he had to do, and this was no different.

"Joel?" You ask him, because he seems like he lost in his own thought, "Are you okay?" you ask again.

Joel blinked, dragged back to the present by the sound of your voice, soft and concerned. He turned to you, his jaw tightening before he loosened it, forcing the tension out of his muscles. He hadn’t realized how far he’d slipped—back into those dark corners of his mind where the past bled into the present, where every sound and every silence reminded him of what he’d done, of the graves he’d dug.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

But you weren’t convinced. You tilted your head, your eyes searching his face, looking for something he didn’t want you to find. “Are you tired? We can take the food back to our hotel," you said.

Joel shook his head, offering you a quick, reassuring smile. "No, no, it's fine," he said, his voice steady. “We’ll eat here.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and you both shared a quiet, peaceful meal together. The evening was warm, the hum of jazz floating through the air as the city bustled around you. After dinner, you strolled hand-in-hand through the streets of New Orleans, the city alive with music and energy. The twinkling lights, the sound of laughter, and the scent of spices in the air made it feel like a dream. You had fun, really let go, and it felt like Joel did too—his laughter mixing with yours, his eyes softening when they met yours.

But when you returned to the hotel, the warmth faded as you began to unwind. You changed into comfortable clothes, wiped away your makeup, and kept chatting with Joel from the bathroom, the door cracked open so he could hear you. You told him about the jazz show, about the new friends you’d made with him by your side. The night felt alive in your words, full of joy, but after a while, you noticed the silence from the other side of the room.

“Joel?” you called, your voice carrying a little more concern. You stepped out of the bathroom and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his broad shoulders tense, his whole body still, like a statue weighed down by invisible chains.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” you asked, walking over to him, kneeling in front of him so you could see his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes flicked back to you, as if pulling himself from some dark place in his mind. His brow furrowed, and he quickly shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “No, no, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained but soft. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You held his gaze, feeling the unease creeping into your chest. “Then what is it?” you pressed gently. “Are you sick?”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could he explain the storm raging inside him? The news he’d seen earlier—reports of missing people, whispers of investigations—it sent a chill down his spine.

He couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it wouldn’t be long before the police found where he had buried Jamie and Pastor Ben. Maybe it wouldn’t be long before they came for him, before they tore him from you, or worse—before they dragged you back to your father, back to the hell he had tried so hard to save you from.

Inside his mind, the thoughts churned like a rising tide, each one more suffocating than the last. He saw it all—the flash of blue lights, the handcuffs tightening around his wrists, your face crumbling as they led him away.

He imagined you back in that house, imagined the way you’d be stripped of the freedom and love he’d tried to give you.

He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

But he couldn’t tell you any of this.

The truth was like a sickness in him, spreading through his veins, poisoning everything it touched. Every moment with you was a borrowed one. The walls felt like they were closing in, and no matter how much he wanted to pull you close and keep you safe, the fear of what could come next gnawed at him relentlessly.

“Joel?” your voice brought him back again, your hand resting on his knee, warm and gentle. “Please, talk to me. I know something’s wrong.”

He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I just… got a lot on my mind, sweetheart,” he said quietly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

But you could see it—the heaviness in his expression, the way his body tensed like he was carrying a weight too heavy for one man alone.

“You sure?” you asked again, your voice a whisper now, full of concern. “I can help. I’m here.”

"Joel. It's both of us now against the world. Just you and me. I will be with you no matter what, Joel."

Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The truth in your voice, the unwavering loyalty, wrapped around him like a lifeline. He wanted to believe it—to hold onto the idea that with you, he could face anything.

But the weight of what he had done, the fear of what might come, pressed down like a crushing force. He couldn’t risk destroying this fragile happiness, this fleeting freedom that both of you had fought so hard to claim.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, so full of love, of trust. Joel wanted to give you everything—his heart, his soul, his truth. But not yet.

His love for you was too deep, too raw, and the fear of losing you, of losing this, gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t put into words.

Instead of speaking, Joel cupped your face, his rough hands trembling slightly as they held you. The silence between you grew thick, but his lips found yours—softly at first, as if he were testing the waters, afraid of losing himself in you completely.

But the kiss deepened, and something inside him snapped. It wasn’t just desire, it was a desperate need—an overwhelming, aching need to feel alive, to drown out the darkness clawing at him from every corner.

He kissed you like a man starved, pouring every unspoken fear, every unexpressed emotion into that moment. His lips moved with a fierce, breathless intensity, his hands tracing the curves of your body, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

"Joel..." You moan as his touch was urgent, seeking comfort, seeking release from the turmoil spinning in his head.

Joel’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice, his name tumbling from your lips in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. His hands slid up your body, fingers tracing the soft lines of your waist, your hips, the curve of your thighs. His touch was rough, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to drown out everything else.

"Say it again," he growled against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he pressed his body against yours. His breath was hot, his voice low and gravelly. "Say my name again, baby."

"Joel..." you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your heart racing as the heat between you grew. His mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was hungrier, deeper—like he was claiming you, like he needed this, needed you to ground him, to remind him that this was real.

His hands roamed, exploring every inch of you, each touch more possessive than the last. "You feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "I need you... right now, baby."

You arched into him, your body responding to his every touch, his every word. “Joel… I need you too.”

He groaned softly, his mouth trailing down your neck, his hands slipping under the fabric of your shirt, lifting it higher until it was tossed aside. He kissed you again, harder, more intense, his body pressing you into the mattress, every movement filled with the weight of his need.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough and ragged, full of a quiet possessiveness as he kissed your collarbone, then lower, his hands gripping your hips, steadying you beneath him. "You understand? Mine."

"Yes," you whispered back, your voice trembling with want, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. "Yours, yours only, daddy."

You realize when you said that, your eyes widened, face red. The word slipped out before you could stop it—daddy—and as soon as it did, your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat.

Heat rushed to your face, your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to say it, not like that, but the way Joel had been touching you, the way he made you feel so safe and wanted, it just… came out.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence, Joel’s lips hovering just above your skin. Then, his eyes darkened, and a low, gravelly chuckle escaped his throat. He tilted his head up, looking down at you with an intensity that sent a shiver through your whole body.

“Oh, baby…” His voice was deeper now, rough with desire. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips grazed your ear. “What did you just call me?”

You swallowed, heart pounding in your chest. “I–I didn’t mean—”

But Joel cut you off, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t get enough of you. When he finally pulled back, his gaze burned into yours. “Say it again,” he demanded softly, his voice laced with something dark, possessive.

"Say it for daddy."

Your pulse raced, your body tingling under his touch. “Daddy…” you whispered, breathless, the word trembling from your lips.

Joel groaned, his hands roaming over your body with renewed hunger, the heat between you intensifying. “That’s my good girl,” he growled against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“You like calling me that, huh? Feels right, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, a soft moan escaping your throat as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Yes… daddy.”

He growled again, his teeth grazing your shoulder as his hands wandered lower, claiming every inch of you like he was staking his claim.

“You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. “I’m gonna take care of you, make you feel so good.”

Joel’s breath was ragged as he leaned back, his eyes dark with hunger as he reached for the condom, tearing the wrapper with his teeth. His gaze never left yours, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You watched, your body trembling with anticipation as he rolled it on, his jaw clenched with restraint. He was trying to hold back, but you could see how much he needed this—how much he needed you.

He hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not gonna be gentle tonight, baby. I need you too much.” His voice was low, rough, full of a barely contained edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, your breath catching as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you, making you gasp. "I can take it," you whispered, your voice breathless with want. "I want you, Joel... I need you."

With a growl, Joel positioned himself, his grip tightening on your hips. He entered you slowly, but even then, the sheer force of it made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to him. The pressure was overwhelming, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through you as he filled you completely.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” Joel grunted, his teeth grazing your neck as he moved deeper, setting a rough, desperate pace. He couldn’t hold back, his need too great, the weight of everything pressing down on him pouring into every thrust. “So tight, baby… so perfect.”

You moaned his name, your body arching beneath him, each movement sending pleasure spiraling through you. His hands gripped your waist, holding you steady as he moved harder, faster, his body pressing you into the mattress.

Every thrust was deep, forceful, as if he was trying to chase away the demons that haunted him, burying his fear and paranoia in the way he claimed you.

“My beautiful girl, such a good girl you are.” he growled, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans. “No one else gets you like this. Only me. You’re mine, baby.”

You could only nod, lost in the sensation, your body responding to every rough touch, every demanding kiss. “Yes… Joel… only you…” you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure as he took you over the edge, his rhythm relentless, his grip possessive.

He groaned deeply as his pace quickened, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each thrust. “I’m never letting you go,” he rasped, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and ragged.

“Never.”

Your body tightened around him, the intensity of his movements pushing you closer to your breaking point. You moaned his name again, the sound filling the room as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel's grip tightened on your hips, and the bed creaked beneath the force of his movements, each thrust rougher than the last. The headboard knocked against the wall in rhythm, and your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing.

The pressure of his body against yours was overwhelming, and yet, even in the roughness, there was a tenderness, a care in the way his lips found yours between every deep, hard thrust.

“Joel...” you gasped, your voice shaking as your fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself against the intensity. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, the roughness somehow exactly what you needed.

Every time he moved, it sent you closer to the edge, your body tightening around him, the friction almost unbearable.

“You’re so perfect,” Joel growled against your lips, his mouth claiming yours in a fierce kiss. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin, a stark contrast to the way his body pounded into you. “So damn perfect, baby... Can’t get enough of you.”

The bedframe rattled against the wall as he thrust harder, the sound only heightening the heat building between you. Your back arched, your head tipping back as you moaned his name again, your body trembling beneath him. “Joel... oh God...”

He kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans, his lips rough but full of passion as he gripped you tighter. “I’ve got you,” he rasped between kisses, his breath hot against your mouth. “You’re safe with me, baby. Always.”

Even though his movements were rough, almost desperate, he made sure you were okay—his lips constantly finding yours, his hands steadying your body, his murmured reassurances grounding you in the midst of the intensity.

You felt the pressure building inside you, your whole body tightening as you clung to him, every nerve ending on fire as he pushed you closer to him.

The pressure inside you coiled tighter, your body trembling as the pleasure built, inching you closer to the edge with each of Joel’s rough, relentless thrusts. Your eyes fluttered shut, lost in the overwhelming sensation, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Joel... I’m so close...” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching beneath him.

But Joel’s hand moved to your chin, tilting your face toward him, his dark eyes filled with intensity as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Look at me,” he growled softly, his voice rough with desire. “Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me when you cum.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, making your heart race even faster. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, the connection between you sparking like electricity. His eyes were dark, hungry, filled with so much need that it made your whole body tremble.

“That's it,” Joel murmured, his pace quickening, thrusting deeper, harder. The bedframe rattled against the wall as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him, pushing you right to the brink. “Stay with me, darlin’. I wanna see you fall apart for me.”

Your breath hitched, your body tightening even more as the intensity of his movements pushed you to the edge. His eyes never left yours, and the way he was looking at you—like you were everything he needed—made you feel like you were unraveling beneath him.

“Joel... oh my God...” you moaned, your voice shaking as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your entire body shuddered, your nails digging into his back as you came, your eyes locked with his the whole time, just like he asked.

Joel let out a low, guttural groan as he felt you tighten around him, his own control slipping. “That’s my girl,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful...”

He thrust into you harder, chasing his own release, and with a deep, broken moan, he followed you over the edge, his body shaking as he came, holding you close like he couldn’t bear to let go.

"Fuck!"

Joel cursed under his breath, his chest heaving as both of you struggled to catch your breath. His body trembled as he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom and tossing it aside. When you started to shift, thinking it was over, his strong hand gripped your thigh, keeping your legs open.

“Who said I’m done?” he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart pounding all over again as you watched him, your body still sensitive from the intensity of before.

Joel leaned down, kissing a trail across your stomach, his lips dangerously close to the heat between your thighs. His breath was hot against your skin, and your pulse raced as he moved lower, his hands spreading your legs wider.

“Joel...oh my God,” you whispered, your voice breathless, but he didn’t respond with words. Instead, his mouth found the soft skin just above your core, kissing and teasing until you were trembling beneath him again, your hands gripping the sheets.

He looked up at you through hooded eyes, his hands firmly holding your hips in place as his lips hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I wanna hear you moan my name again,” he murmured, his voice rough with lust.

“Louder this time.”

And then, without warning, his mouth was on you, his tongue teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your back arching as you moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Oh God, Joel,” you cried, your body trembling, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of sensation. He was relentless, his mouth moving with expert precision, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you as you writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Joel groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and you moaned even louder, your body tightening again as the pleasure built all over. He looked up, eyes dark with need, watching every reaction, every moan as he drove you closer to the edge once more.

Joel’s fingers joined in, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate thrust that made your whole body jolt. His mouth stayed on you, his tongue moving in sync with the rhythm of his fingers, fast and relentless. The sensation was overwhelming, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, the intensity almost too much to handle. "Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your voice shaking as your body arched off the bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as if you were holding on for dear life. His fingers were fast, his tongue even faster, and it felt like you were on the verge of falling apart all over again.

“That's it, baby,” Joel rasped against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “Let go for me.”

Your eyes rolled back, the heat coiling tight in your belly, spreading through your limbs like fire. You couldn’t stop the moans spilling from your lips, couldn’t stop the way your hips moved desperately against his hand, chasing that release you craved.

“Joel... I— I can’t...” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt yourself nearing the edge, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.

“You can, darlin’,” he growled, his eyes never leaving your face as he pressed deeper, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “Cum for me.”

His words were the final push you needed. With a cry of his name, you shattered beneath him, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you lost yourself in the sensation, the world spinning around you.

Joel didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you were completely spent, your body trembling, utterly at his mercy.

Finally, Joel pulled back, his lips lingering on your inner thigh before he released a satisfied breath. Just as you thought he was done, he spit softly on your sensitive core, making your body jolt with surprise.

Without hesitation, his mouth was back on you, licking slowly, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. The sensation was too much, your overstimulated body trembling as his tongue tasted you again.

He worked his way up, his lips trailing kisses over your stomach, then your breasts, before finally reaching your mouth. He kissed you deeply, and you could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate mix of your desire on his tongue.

It was raw, electric, and it made your heart race all over again.

As his mouth moved against yours, you felt the weight of his body pressing into you, his hands holding you steady, his fingers trailing over your skin like he owned every part of you. “You taste so good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with lust.

You gasped softly, your hands clutching his shoulders as you kissed him back, feeling the intoxicating mixture of you on his mouth. "Joel..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, still dazed from everything he’d just done to you.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. His lips ghosted over your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Tell me, baby, you like tasting yourself on my lips?"

You chuckles at his tease and nodded, your cheeks flushing, unable to form coherent words as his mouth claimed yours again in a fierce, demanding kiss.

His tongue teased yours, making you feel every inch of the connection between you. His hands roamed your body possessively, grounding you in the moment, and as he kissed you deeper, he left no doubt in your mind that you were his.

“Let’s go to sleep, baby,” Joel murmured against your lips, his voice soothing, still laced with the remnants of the heated moment you’d just shared.

He pulled away slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as he looked down at you.

You nodded, still feeling the warmth radiating from your body, but a sense of comfort washed over you at the thought of resting beside him. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice still thick with emotion.

As he settled beside you, you turned onto your side, facing him. The room was dim, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over his features.

You could see the tiredness etched on his face, the weight of everything that had happened still lingering in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You wanted to make sure he was alright, even after everything. “You seemed a little lost there for a moment.”

He paused, the moment stretching between you as he considered his response. “I'm fine, doll.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, grounding you both in the intimacy of the moment. “Being here with you is more anough for me,”

You felt a smile tug at your lips, a warmth blooming in your chest at his words. “I want to be here for you, Joel. You don’t have to go through everything alone.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I know, and I appreciate that more than you know, baby.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just promise me you’ll stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, but you pushed the fear away, focusing on the warmth of his body next to yours. “I promise,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With that, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close against him. The world outside faded away, and for that moment, all that mattered was the comfort of each other’s presence.

As you settled into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat began to lull you into a sense of security, a cocoon of safety that you had longed for.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep, your dreams filled with warmth and the unshakeable bond between you and Joel.

"Night, Joel."

***

and im back, wazzup people! ENJOY SOME SMUT CUS WHY NOT! strongly suggest listen to heaven by julia michaels and cherry by lana del rey

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nayziiz · 8 months ago

Text

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff

Masterlist

CHAPTER 7

In the weeks following the Miami Grand Prix, the bond between Lando and Natalie deepens as they find themselves drawn to each other's company. The shared experiences of the racing world create a unique connection, and they gradually begin to spend more time together away from the bustling atmosphere of the tracks.

As the Monaco Grand Prix approaches, Lando extends a heartfelt invitation to Natalie to stay with him in his apartment in Monaco. It's not just about the proximity to the upcoming race; it symbolises a growing intimacy and trust between them. Natalie, appreciative of the gesture, accepts the invitation, excited for the chance to spend more time with Lando outside the pressures of the racing circuit.

The week in Monaco becomes a pivotal chapter in their relationship. Lando and Natalie share not only the scenic beauty of the principality but also the quieter, more personal moments. They explore the charming streets of Monaco together, indulging in local cuisine, and taking in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. This time away from the track allows them to discover each other beyond the adrenaline-fueled world of Formula 1. Despite the bond between them growing stronger every day, they both use the excuse of their fake romance as a cover to hide their true feelings for one another.

Lando's apartment becomes a haven where they can relax and be themselves. The atmosphere is filled with laughter, shared stories, and a growing sense of connection. Amidst the backdrop of the glamorous Monaco lifestyle, their budding romance flourishes, creating lasting memories that extend beyond the confines of the racing calendar.

During this week, Natalie gets a firsthand look at Lando's off-track passions and interests, and they find common ground in their pursuits outside of racing. This shared experience not only strengthens their emotional connection but also sets the foundation for a more profound understanding of each other's lives. Determined to keep Monaco and his apartment a haven for the two of them, Lando sets up his friends in a hotel as opposed to letting them stay with him and Natalie in his apartment.

As Lando gets ready to head out for a night of drinks with friends, the atmosphere in his apartment is a blend of anticipation and tranquillity. The soft glow of bedside lamps casts a warm ambiance, creating a cosy contrast to the bustling nightlife awaiting him outside.

In the bedroom, Natalie is nestled under the covers, engrossed in the pages of her book. The gentle rustle of the turning pages harmonises with the muted sounds of Lando moving about the apartment. Occasionally, she steals subtle glances at him, her eyes tracing the familiar contours of his movements.

Lando, dressed in casually chic attire, moves back and forth between the bathroom and his bedroom. The faint scent of cologne lingers in the air, leaving a trace of his presence. As he checks himself in the mirror, adjusting a collar or running a hand through his hair, Natalie can't help but smile at the easy confidence he exudes.

Their contrasting activities create a serene tableau—the peaceful reading nook juxtaposed with the energetic anticipation of the night out.

“Have you seen my shark tooth necklace anywhere?” Lando asks as he peers around the corner from the bathroom

“It’s on the vanity.” Natalie nonchalantly responds without lifting her gaze from the book

“It’s not there, I’ve checked.” Lando informs her, a touch of frustration in his voice.

“It was there before you started getting ready.” Natalie counters, her expression a mix of amusement and bemusement. There's a subtle teasing tone in her voice, as if she's unravelling a mystery she finds rather amusing.

Lando, wearing an expression of defeat, returns to the bathroom, his search for the elusive shark tooth necklace proving unsuccessful. Natalie, sensing his frustration, decides to join the quest for the missing accessory. She gracefully gets out of bed, her oversized hoodie cascading over her hips and covering her pyjama shorts.

With a knowing smile, Natalie follows Lando into the bathroom, her gaze scanning the familiar surfaces. As she spots the necklace nestled behind Lando's hair gels and aftershave on the vanity, she can't help but suppress a playful giggle. Reaching for the necklace, Natalie picks it up with a triumphant air and holds it up for Lando to see.

“Looking for this?” She teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Lando, turning to face her, is met with a mixture of relief and playful reproach.

“You found it? And here I thought I was going to have to search the entire apartment.” He breathes a sigh of relief. Natalie hands him the necklace with a mischievous grin.

“You might need a treasure map next time.” She quips, enjoying the light-hearted moment. Lando takes the necklace, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“I swear, it grows legs and hides every time I need it.” He jokes, his playful demeanour matching hers. “Sometimes I wonder what I would do without you.”

“You’ll be alright.” Natalie chuckles as she leans against the vanity to watch him struggle to put it on.

As Lando bends down to retrieve the fallen necklace, the delicate piece of jewellery slipping through his fingers and landing just before Natalie's feet, a moment of subtle tension hangs in the air. The room is momentarily hushed as their eyes meet, a shared awareness of the proximity between them.

Lando, rising slowly, inches away from her, locks eyes with Natalie. The atmosphere shifts, and the playful energy from the earlier search transforms into a quiet, charged connection. The air seems to thicken with a mixture of curiosity and unspoken emotions.

Their closeness becomes palpable, the shared space charged with a magnetic pull. Lando, still holding the necklace, allows a brief pause before breaking into a charming smile.

“Looks like it wanted to be closer to you.” He quips, injecting a touch of humour to diffuse the building tension. Natalie chuckles, a hint of blush gracing her cheeks.

“Maybe it just needed a change of scenery.” She replies, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes.

Lando, with a hint of vulnerability, extends the necklace toward Natalie.

“Will you help me put it on, please?” He requests with a genuine warmth in his eyes. She accepts the necklace with a smile, appreciating the endearing clumsiness in his request.

As she clips the necklace around his muscled neck, their hands briefly linger in the shared moment. The simple act of helping him put on the necklace becomes a quiet exchange of intimacy, reinforcing the connection that has been growing between them. While fastening the clasp, Natalie glances up at Lando, her smile softening.

“Are you sure you don't want to come tonight?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“Yeah.” She replies, her fingers deftly securing the necklace. “I'll order room service and read. Just feeling a bit worn out after the last few days.”

Lando nods, appreciating her honesty. As Natalie fixes the collar of his crisp white cotton shirt, he can't help but watch Natalie's eyes intently. The soft glow of the room accentuates her features, and in that moment, he feels an overwhelming desire to express how beautiful she looks. However, a sense of restraint holds him back, perhaps a combination of the lingering playfulness from the necklace incident and the understanding of the importance of timing.

Natalie, oblivious to the internal struggle within Lando, notices some stray fuzz on his shoulder and chest. Her hands delicately dust off the tiny particles, a gesture that carries both care and familiarity. In this simple act, there's a silent communication between them, an unspoken connection that transcends words.

Lando's gaze remains fixed on Natalie, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and affection. He restrains the words that linger on the tip of his tongue, aware that sometimes actions can convey more than words ever could. The room seems to hold a quiet energy, filled with the unspoken sentiments that swirl around them.

“You're looking quite dapper tonight, Mr. Norris.” Natalie comments, a half-smile playing on her lips. Lando, appreciating the compliment, feels a twinge of guilt for leaving her behind.

“I feel bad for leaving you here alone, though.” He mumbles, his concern evident in his voice.

“Please, don't. I think the rest will do me good. Just go have fun.” Natalie reassures him, her tone gentle yet firm,

Lando looks at her, a mixture of gratitude and longing in his eyes. He appreciates her understanding and selflessness. With a final glance and a tender smile, he heads towards the door, leaving Natalie in the cosiness of the room.

As Lando leaves for dinner with his mates, a sense of unease washes over him. The absence of Natalie by his side, a constant presence for weeks, leaves him feeling exposed. Throughout the night, he finds himself glancing at his phone, wondering if she's doing okay without him. The usual banter and shared moments are conspicuously absent.

As the hours pass, the lack of a message from Natalie gnaws at him. Concern grows, and he realises that her absence has created a void that he hadn't fully acknowledged until now. The usual buzz of the night out with friends becomes somewhat muted as thoughts of Natalie occupy his mind. After some contemplation, Lando decides to reach out, his fingers typing a message to her.

L: Wanted to say goodnight in case you're asleep when I get back.

Minutes later, a response appears on his screen, and a sense of relief washes over him.

N: Be safe and have fun ;)

Her simple yet reassuring words alleviate the worry that had been building within him. Lando smiles at the message, grateful for the connection they share even when physically apart. As he continues with the evening, her words linger, providing a comforting reminder that, even in moments of distance, their bond remains strong.

Lando arrives back at the apartment shortly before midnight. He knows Natalie will be fast asleep when he gets back. The travelling this season has been more intense on her than last season and it’s starting to take a toll on her. He knew their fake relationship was only there to get the fans off his back, but he couldn’t help but care about her.

As Lando unlocks the apartment door and steps inside, a hushed atmosphere surrounds him. The night light, left on by Natalie, softly illuminates the room, casting a gentle glow on their surroundings. Appreciating her considerate gesture, he tiptoed through the apartment to his bedroom, avoiding loud creaks that might disturb her peaceful slumber.

Upon entering the room, he notices Natalie, completely enveloped by the covers, lost in the realm of dreams. The rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing indicate a deep sleep. Taking care not to make any noise, Lando quietly changes into a pair of sweatpants, ensuring he won't disturb her with any sudden movements.

Sliding into the bed beside her, Lando's slow but deliberate motions on the mattress catch Natalie's attention. Though initially lost in her dreams, the subtle changes in the bed's weight caused her to stir. She gradually wakes up, turning her head slightly to confirm the presence of the person beside her.

Her eyes, adjusting to the dim light, meet Lando's. A soft smile forms on her lips as she recognises him. The room is filled with a tender ambience as their eyes lock, the unspoken understanding between them bridging the gap between sleep and wakefulness.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Lando whispers apologetically beside Natalie. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” She asks, groggily, as she turns to him, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

“Just after midnight.” He informs her, settling down under the covers.

“Did you have a good time?” She wonders.

“Not really.” He hesitantly answers.

“How come?” She curiously asks, turning even more so she can see more of his face.

“Just missed you there tonight.” He admits, his voice sincere.

The vulnerability in his words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of their connection. The subtle admission reveals that, despite the company of friends and the night's activities, Lando's thoughts were consistently drawn back to the absence of the one person who had become an integral part of his everyday life. Natalie, still half-lulled by sleep, smiles at his confession.Her cheeks burn up as she turns back to her original position.

“Get some sleep.” Lando urges, gently redirecting the conversation, perhaps wanting to shift the focus away from his emotions.

After a few minutes, Natalie reaches behind her, searching for Lando's arm. When she finds it, she pulls it over her waist and runs her fingers gently over his forearm.

“Your skin is so cold.” She whispers. In response, she pulls his arm under her hoodie, allowing his arm to rest on the warm skin of her midriff.

“You're so warm.” Lando whispers back, moving closer to her. “You're so good to me.”

Lando, not fully aware that he had spoken his thoughts aloud, senses a shift in the atmosphere as Natalie remains silent in response to his vulnerable admission. Undeterred, she chooses not to address the statement directly, opting instead to continue playing with his fingers under her hoodie.

Feeling her push herself closer against him, sharing their body heat, Lando appreciates the unspoken connection between them. In the quiet of the night, their intertwined fingers become a tangible expression of the emotional bond they've formed during their fake relationship.

For Natalie, the complexity of their situation weighs on her mind. She had agreed to fake date Lando, anticipating the challenges that might arise, but the depth of the connection and the joy of being his "girlfriend" caught her by surprise. The realization that their fake relationship will eventually come to an end looms in the back of her mind, a difficult truth neither of them is ready to confront.

As they share the warmth under the covers, the unspoken acknowledgement of the impending end casts a bittersweet shadow. The joy of their time together is palpable, but the looming conclusion adds a layer of melancholy to the otherwise tender moment.

- THE NEXT MORNING -

While Lando is in the shower to get ready for the day, Natalie seizes the opportunity to make a call to her boss, Charlotte.

“I've been meaning to ask you, uh, has management given you any indication of when they expect this relationship to come to an end?” Natalie inquires, ensuring she can hear the sound of the shower in the background.

“What do you mean? Is something wrong?” Charlotte quickly asks, a note of concern in her voice.

“No, no, everything's fine. It's just, I suppose this can't last forever, and we need to prepare for that if that makes sense.” Natalie explains, choosing her words carefully. There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Charlotte processes the information.

“Ah, I see. Well, there wasn't a set timeline communicated to me, but it's a good point. We should think about how to manage the transition when the time comes.” Charlotte agrees, her tone professional yet understanding. “I think the two of you will need to chat about it and decide for yourselves when the best time would be for that. I can understand that you want to go on with your own life.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes the most sense.” Natalie concedes, pacing the room in front of the bed as the weight of the impending conversation settles on her shoulders.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Charlotte probes, sensing something beneath Natalie's reassurance.

“Yeah, everything's fine.” Natalie responds, not wanting to burden Charlotte with the complexities of her emotions.

“You didn't catch feelings for the boy, did you?” Charlotte questions, a note of concern in her voice. Natalie takes a moment before she answers, contemplating the honesty of her response.

“Possibly, that's why it'll probably be best to kind of nip all of that in the bud before it escalates, you know.” Natalie confesses, running a hand through her dark brown hair. “But, I'll sort that out and let you know if there are any changes.”

“Alright, well good luck, darling. I’ll see you two later today.” Charlotte says, her words carrying a mix of support and understanding before they end the call.

As Natalie hangs up the phone, a sense of responsibility and the weight of her emotions converge, setting the stage for a conversation that could shape the course of her fake relationship with Lando.

Caught up in her thoughts and scrolling through notifications, Natalie suddenly realises the absence of the sound of the shower. Instinctively, she turns around, only to be met with the unexpected sight of Lando leaning against the bathroom door frame. He stands there, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his body glistening from the water droplets that cling to his skin. Lando's curly hair is soaked, and droplets of water cascade down, creating a mesmerising pattern against his toned physique.

“You're ready for this to end?” He asks, his tone betraying a sense of disbelief. “Did you meet someone?”

“Lan, no...we need to be realistic about the situation. We can't keep up the fake relationship forever.” She explains, choosing her words carefully.

Lando, still processing the conversation, repeats his question: “Did you meet someone?” Natalie, looking directly into his eyes, shakes her head.

“No, that's not why I was asking.” She confirms, emphasising that her inquiry wasn't prompted by the emergence of a romantic interest elsewhere. He runs a hand through his wet hair, his eyes searching hers for some hidden meaning.

“I thought we were doing well. I mean, I've enjoyed having you around, and I thought you felt the same.” Lando admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. Natalie sighs, feeling the weight of the conversation.

“It's not about not enjoying our time together, Lando. But we need to consider what happens when this arrangement comes to an end.” She says, her gaze steady.

The room becomes filled with palpable tension as they navigate the complexities of their fake relationship and the looming prospect of its conclusion. The unspoken emotions between them swirl in the air, leaving both Natalie and Lando grappling with the reality of their situation.

“Please, just be honest with me.” He pleads with her.

“Fine. I’m scared. I’m scared we’re going to get too comfortable with this arrangement and we’ll end up getting hurt when management decides to pull the plug.” Natalie admits, her breath shaking as she speaks. “It’ll just be better when we have a day, a date, something so we know. It’s going to be an adjustment going back to normal.”

“Don’t you think we’re past comfortable already? I mean, I am standing in front of you with just a towel in my bedroom. We spend most nights sleeping in the same bed. This is our new normal. It has been for months. What would the old normal even look like?” Lando counters.

Natalie, caught off guard by his perspective and his apparent desire to continue their faux relationship, finds herself at a loss for words. The complexity of their situation, the blurred lines between fiction and reality, leaves her feeling confused and uncertain about the path forward.

“Nattie.” Lando pleads, his voice carrying a mixture of earnestness and confusion. “How could we ever go back to normal?”

“I don’t know, Lando. I just want to be prepared for it when it happens, OK?” Natalie responds, a tinge of frustration evident in her tone.

She's annoyed that he overheard the conversation and finds his teasing demeanour, particularly in just a towel, distracting. “Why would you want this to continue anyway?”

“Because you're incredible!” Lando exclaims, his frustration and genuine feelings coming to the forefront. “Your smile feels like home. Your embraces make me feel secure. You motivate me every day to be the absolute best I can be. When you're not with me, I feel like a deer caught in headlights.”

His heartfelt declaration hangs in the air, a vulnerable admission of the depth of his emotions. The room is filled with the raw honesty of his words, and Natalie, caught off guard by the intensity of his feelings, is left momentarily speechless.

Lando's confession lays bare the genuine connection that has developed between them during their faux relationship. The unexpected turn in the conversation adds a layer of complexity to their situation, forcing them to confront the authenticity of their feelings amid the backdrop of a relationship built on pretence

“You're not doing this. You're not going to confess your feelings for me, Lando. That complicates everything. That's why I'm scared, because how do I listen to this and be happy to end this fake relationship?” Natalie argues, her voice strained with the weight of conflicting emotions, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Why should we have to end it, then? Why can't we just be this until we don't want to be anymore? You know this hasn't been fake for a while.” Lando, equally determined to express his feelings, counters

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Natalie grapples with the revelation that Lando's feelings align with the unspoken desires she buried deep within herself. The unexpected turn of events challenges the carefully constructed barriers she built to maintain the facade of their fake relationship.

In this moment of realisation, Natalie is confronted with the vulnerability of her own emotions, a stark contrast to the pragmatic approach she adopted to shield herself from the impending end. The weight of the truth settles on her shoulders, and the room becomes a silent witness to the uncharted territory they find themselves in, both emotionally exposed and uncertain about what lies ahead.

Natalie, overwhelmed by the surge of emotions and unable to confront Lando's confession, refuses to answer him. Instead, she tosses him a shirt and a pair of shorts, a physical distraction from the emotional turmoil.

“I can't have this conversation with you when you look like that.” She states, her voice steady but her back turned to him. As she wipes away the tears from her cheeks, the room is filled with an unspoken tension.

Lando quickly gets dressed and dries his hair with the towel. He clears his throat, a silent indication that she can turn around.

“Nattie, why are you so scared all of a sudden?” He gently asks, his earlier emotional intensity calming down. Lando, dressed and composed, seeks to understand the source of Natalie's sudden apprehension.

When Natalie turns around, she's a sobbing mess. Lando, seeing her emotional state, hurries over and wraps his arms around her, providing a comforting embrace.

“I'm scared that when things come to an end, you'll stop looking at me like I'm the sun, the moon, and the stars.” Natalie mumbles into his chest, her vulnerability laid bare.

“You are my sun, my moon, and my stars, Nattie.” He assures her, his voice filled with sincerity. “Don't end things before we've had a proper chance to really make it work. Not for the cameras, not for the fans or management, but really make it work because we care deeply for each other. Can we do that?”

Natalie pulls away and studies Lando's face for any doubts, but his expression conveys a mix of hope and desperation. He looks down at her like she's about to rip his heart out of his chest if she answers anything else apart from yes.

“Please.” He whispers, his desperation evident in his plea.

Instead of a verbal answer, Natalie crashes her lips against his, pulling her arms around his neck in a passionate embrace. After a few intense moments, she pulls away and looks at the time on her watch.

“We have to go. Free practice starts soon.” She reminds him, her voice a mix of urgency and a lingering connection.

- LATER THAT DAY -

Lando finds himself distracted by Natalie's movements around the garage as she prepares her media packet. He watches her effortlessly engage with the mechanics and engineers, sharing laughter and exchanging comments. Her brown hair whips from side to side as she moves, an animated presence that captures his attention.

Natalie's focus shifts between assembling her media packet and stealing quick glances at Lando as he prepares to head out for FP1. The top half of his race suit is tied around his hips, revealing the black fire suit underneath that complements his tanned skin perfectly. The casual yet alluring sight of him in the garage momentarily captivates her attention.

“Girl got your brain upside down this morning?” Oscar asks Lando as he stands beside his teammate.

“You have no idea.” Lando simply answers, his eyes not leaving Natalie for a second.

“Lily!” Natalie exclaims when she spots Oscar's girlfriend entering the garage. “It's so nice to see you again.”

Natalie quickly embraces Lily in a tight hug. She loved having Lily in the paddock. Lily's university schedule made it difficult for her to attend race weekends, but whenever she had the chance, she came to support Oscar.

“You didn't say Lily was coming this weekend, shame on you.” Natalie comments as the girls approach Lando and Oscar.

“She surprised me last night by knocking on my hotel room door.” Oscar explains, chuckling at Natalie's overreaction.

“We need to have dinner sometime this weekend.” Natalie insists.

“That'd be lovely, thank you.” Lily agrees.

“Yo, Lando. Time to head out!” Lando's race engineer yells, pointing to the car behind the group.

Lando tears his gaze away from Natalie, Oscar, and Lily, turning his attention to the race engineer's call. The racetrack beckons, and with a nod to the group, Lando heads towards his car, ready to focus on the upcoming practice session.

Natalie hands Lando his helmet and walks with him to the car. She watches with a mix of pride and concern as he gets in and gets strapped in. Lando looks up at Natalie with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Be safe out there.” She breathes.

“Of course.” He assures her as he puts on his gloves.

When he's almost ready to be rolled out, Natalie taps his helmet, making him look up at her.

“Make me proud, Norris.” She warns him.

“Always, baby.” He replies with a sneaky wink.

The endearing term 'baby' effortlessly rolls off Lando's tongue, and Natalie can't help but love hearing it from him. It brings a warmth and sense of adoration that adds a personal touch to their unique dynamic. As the car is rolled out to the track, Natalie watches, a mix of emotions coursing through her.

- THAT NIGHT -

It had been a long day of practice. Lando and Natalie spent minimal time together aside from their usual lunch with his trainer in between sessions. Natalie has been on a high all day from the second she heard the word ‘baby.’ She couldn’t wait to hear him say it again, but he was professional all day, only holding her hand here and there as they walked through the paddock.

“It was a good day, no?” Natalie asks as they arrive back at their hotel room. “The pace looked really good and this isn’t even a track we usually perform too well at.”

“Yeah, I’m actually quite surprised it went as well as it did.” Lando agrees as he collapses on the bed, sprawling out his limbs.

Natalie heads to the bathroom to change out of her uniform and into something more comfortable. She opts for a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, seeking the ease and relaxation of casual attire after a long day at the track.

“I was thinking of going to dinner with Lily tomorrow after qualifying, that gives her and Oscar time to catch up.” Natalie speaks from the bathroom. Lando is quiet.

As Natalie peers around the corner, she finds Lando fast asleep in the same position he laid down in. A smile crosses her face, and she decides to put on a pair of jeans instead, opting to go for a walk to avoid disturbing his rest. She scribbles a note down on a piece of paper and leaves it next to his phone before quietly exiting the hotel room.

The note reads, "Went for a walk. Back soon. Sleep well, Lando. - Nattie." With that, she steps out into the evening, leaving the sleeping Lando in peace as she takes a moment to herself. The city outside holds a different kind of energy, and Natalie embraces the tranquillity of the night, knowing that the upcoming race weekend holds both challenges and moments of connection.

An hour later, Natalie's phone starts vibrating in her jeans pocket. She pulls it out and answers immediately when she sees it's Lando.

“Hey.” She greets, a soft smile forming on her face.

“Hey.” Lando's voice comes through, filled with a hint of sleepiness. “Where are you?”

"Just went for a walk, needed some fresh air. I’m just down the street, actually.” Natalie replies as the city sounds faintly audible in the background.

“You should've woken me up. I would've joined you.” Lando suggests.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep.” She chuckles. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, a bit groggy, but good.” He admits. “Want to go for dinner? I just have to change.”

“That sounds lovely. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She affirms.

“See you soon, love.” He greets her before ending the call.

Natalie can't help but smile at the endearing term. The word 'love' slips from Lando's lips effortlessly, and it warms her heart. She heads back to his apartment, eager for a quiet dinner together after a day filled with the intensity of racing. Upon her return to the apartment, she hears him busy in the bathroom.

“I’m back.” She informs him as she heads to her suitcase to find something else to wear for dinner.

“You don’t perhaps have a little black dress packed in there?” He asks as he leans against the bathroom’s door frame. Natalie turns her head to find him dressed in all black and freshly shaved.

“Not a black one, but a green one?” She answers as she pulls out the silk emerald green dress.

“That’ll work as well. Green looks good on you.” He comments before returning to the bathroom to finish up.

Natalie changes into the emerald green dress, perfecting her look with makeup. She then searches for her black block heels to accompany the outfit. As she finds them and sits at the edge of the bed to put them on, Lando watches her intently from the bathroom's door frame, captivated by every movement.

He loves every second of seeing her cross her smooth, tanned legs over each other to put on her shoes. The quiet and intimate moments shared while getting ready for dinner underscore the depth of their connection.

“You know, when you asked me to go to dinner, I didn’t think it would be this smart.” She comments.

“Felt like treating you.” He responds, his voice carrying a note of sincerity.

As she stands up and straightens her dress that reaches her mid-thigh, the atmosphere takes on a subtly romantic undertone.

“Oh, like a date you mean?” Natalie teases, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Exactly like a date.” Lando agrees, his tone laced with warmth and affection as he takes a step closer to her. The proximity adds an intimate touch to their interaction. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Stop it.” Natalie says shyly, a blush colouring her cheeks.

Lando's genuine compliment evokes a tender response, and the genuine exchange captures a moment suspended in time. Lando frowns at her refusal to accept his compliment and steps even closer, resting his hands on her hips before they travel around to her back.

“Gorgeous.” He whispers in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

“Lando.” She whispers back as she presses her forehead onto his shoulder. His hands keep travelling up and down her back over the silky material covering her body.

“Breathtaking.” He continues before planting a soft kiss on her neck. “Now let’s go to dinner.”

He pulls away from her, grabs her hand and leads her out the door.

Dinner was pleasant. The absence of fans crowding them in the restaurant provided a welcome change. What took Natalie by surprise was the newfound sexual tension between them. Lando had awakened a repressed part of her femininity that she had kept hidden after her last relationship. The intimate atmosphere of the evening seemed to have unlocked a deeper connection between them.

As they walked back to the hotel, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, Natalie couldn't help but lean into him. He wrapped his arm around her, and his jacket covered her exposed shoulders, creating a subtle yet intimate shield against the cool night air. The shared closeness and the unspoken understanding between them added a layer of complexity to their relationship, creating a moment that transcended the boundaries of their initial arrangement. The cityscape witnessed the quiet beauty of their connection as they navigated the streets together, each step echoing the newfound depth in their evolving relationship.

Throughout the night, Lando struggled to keep his hands to himself. Somehow, his hands kept finding parts of her exposed skin. He had always admired and loved every aspect of her body – her curves, her hands – she was, in his mind, perfect. However, it was her kindness and compassion that he cherished the most. He just wanted to show her how special she was to him, to love her in a way she truly deserved.

In Lando's eyes, Natalie was an embodiment of beauty, both inside and out. Her physical features were complemented by the warmth and genuineness that radiated from her. Yet, she couldn't shake the awareness of her insecurities, a lingering effect of her past relationship. He wished she could see herself through his eyes, free from the shadows cast by her ex-boyfriend. The desire to make her feel cherished and adored fueled his restraint throughout the night, as he navigated the delicate balance of expressing his affection while being mindful of her comfort and past experiences.

They stop outside his apartment door and turn to face each other.

“That was lovely, thank you.” She says.

“It’s the least I could do.” He responds.

“What do you mean?” She asks, confused.

“You do so much for me and it never feels like I can give back to you.” He admits.

“I know of one way you can.” She teases.

“Yeah?” He curiously asks.

“Keep calling me baby.” She whispers, sultry and smooth.

“Oh, that’s just too easy.” He teases her. “But I‘m open to suggestions.”

Natalie giggles as Lando unlocks the door, allowing her to enter first and closely following her inside. The apartment, a familiar space, offers a sense of comfort and privacy. Natalie immediately takes off her heels, relishing the feeling of being flat on solid ground once again. Lando watches her with an appreciative gaze as she bends over to pick up her black heels. There's a natural grace to her movements, a fluidity that reveals the ease and comfort she feels in his presence.

Her short dress, a vibrant emerald green, offers just enough glimpses of skin to ignite a spark of desire in Lando. The way she moves around him, carefree and unguarded, captivates him in ways he finds both thrilling and comforting. As she bends over, there's a subtle allure that adds a layer of sensuality to the moment, leaving an indelible impression on Lando.

Aware of the rising tension, Lando turns away and distracts himself by switching on the TV. It's not the first time he's been captivated by her, his primal instincts occasionally surfacing. He's learned when to divert his gaze and clear his mind of those thoughts, maintaining a respectful boundary. However, tonight, the magnetic pull is stronger than usual, and he can't help but keep his eyes on her as she struts down the hallway to the bedroom, the emerald green dress enhancing every step with an irresistible allure.

He mindlessly flicks through the channels, but his eyes keep finding her. The soft glow of the television provides a subtle ambience, but his attention is drawn back to the hallway where Natalie's figure moves gracefully in the emerald green dress. Lando zoned out for a moment, lost in the subtle allure of the scene.

Before he realises, he feels a pair of hands running over his abs from behind. The touch interrupts his thoughts, and he turns around to find Natalie standing close, a playful and alluring smile on her lips.

“You seem a tad distracted.” Natalie mumbles against his back.

“Not more than usual.” He replies. “It’s difficult to focus on anything when you look the way you do.”

The heat rushes to Natalie's cheeks as her hands keep travelling up to his chest. The palpable tension between them intensifies, the warmth of her touch adding to the charged atmosphere.

“And, the way your eyes light up when you smile.” He adds.

One of her hands stays on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her touch, while the other travels underneath his button-down shirt. Her nails trace shapes onto his skin, leaving a trail of sensation that ignites a cascade of shivers down his spine.

“And, the joy that escapes your lips when you laugh at my silly jokes.” Lando continues, his words carrying a fondness that mirrors the affectionate moments they've shared. Natalie, with deliberate slowness, starts unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom, revealing the contours of his chest inch by inch. “Or when you leave sweet kisses on my neck when you think I’ve fallen asleep.”

“I do not.” Natalie lies.

“Oh, but you do.” Lando retorts, his shirt completely unbuttoned now. The air in the room becomes charged with a mix of playfulness and desire. The gradual exposure of his chest accentuates the vulnerability of the moment. “And, when you hum your favourite songs in my ear when I can’t fall asleep.”

Lando turns Natalie around, softly pressing himself against the back of the couch. The air becomes charged with a palpable tension as his fingers gently and meticulously work to unzip the dress she has on. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, a merging of desire and vulnerability.

“And, when you bite your lip when you can’t get what you want.” Lando continues as he turns her to face him once again. The room is filled with a charged atmosphere, their banter seamlessly merging with the growing intensity of their connection. “Kind of like you are now.”

“Who says I can’t get what I want?” Natalie counters, a smirk forming on her pink lips.

“You can have everything you could possibly desire.” He informs her, his voice carrying a sincerity that reflects the depth of his feelings.“What do you want most, right now?”

“For you to shut up and kiss me.” She informs her, his voice carrying a sincerity that reflects the depth of his feelings.

“Of course, baby.” He melts as he presses his lips against hers. The kiss is a culmination of their unspoken desires, a moment that transcends the boundaries of their previous arrangement. He pulls away after a few seconds and just holds her in his arms.

“Be my girlfriend. Like my real girlfriend.” He says, his voice carrying a vulnerable sincerity.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Natalie whispers to him before they continue kissing, sealing the unspoken agreement between them.

At this moment, the transition from a fake relationship to a real one is marked by a shared understanding and a genuine connection that has blossomed.

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

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 1 year ago

Text

moving slowly on a fast lane | cl16, cs55

charles leclerc x original female character x carlos sainz jr [+18]

🏁 synopsis: If you ask her, Katie will tell you she’s a motorsports enthusiast and that she works as a model. However, the world has given her various labels – fangirl, groupie, escort, you name it. Regardless of the terminology used, the undeniable truth is that women like her play a crucial role in the industry. Every race weekend, she is there not just to be entertained but to contribute to the entertainment, whether it's by being a pretty face at exclusive parties or by providing more intimate company for the pilots. warnings: smut; loss of virginity; threesome; age gap; misdescription of f1 behind the scenes (W.c. 2K)

| listen to the playlist |

PART I — GROUPIE LOVE

“Because you’re different.” Carlos explains, not really looking at her.

Charles, his head resting on her lap, winces at the response, quietly disagreeing with his teammate's answer. The trio, as usual, lies together on a king-sized bed in a luxury hotel.

It's summer in Latin America, and they're wearing light clothes. The windows are wide open, and the gentle tropical breeze is getting Katie agitated. Yet, it's all in vain because Carlos doesn't even move his eyes from the TV, watching a random tennis match.

Carlos and Charles label moments like these as 'teambuilding,' and usually, Katie is very good at getting them both in a good mood – calm and tranquil. But not today. Today, it's Katie herself who needs calming down.

For the past year, every race weekend, Katie wears her prized credentials like a badge of honor. In no time, despite being quite young and new to the scene, Katie seamlessly transitioned from a wide-eyed newbie to a face you couldn't miss. It wasn't a difficult feat, considering she has an unforgettable face with killer feminine features and a confident personality that could give the racers a run for their money.

Her presence in the paddock has transcended mere fandom – she's not just there to watch anymore, in a way, she became an essential part of the spectacle.

Things are still all rainbows and sunshine for Katie. Her life has turned into a never-ending road trip, always traveling with a team. The pilots still appreciate her – she’s still their untarnished muse – and she hasn't lost the thrill of the fast lane.

But Katie has been around long enough to see that feeling change in other women – the ones who've been on the circuit for ages, who've seen it all and maybe gotten a bit tired of the whole thing. It's hard for her to even picture herself in that spot, to imagine life being any different from what it is now.

Especially during the Canadian Grand Prix, that's when someone special took notice of Katie. An insider from Ferrari, whose name shall remain confidential; a person with a lot of influence within the team and whose role is not entirely undisclosed. This insider handed Katie a golden ticket: credentials and an invitation to join them on the road.

No longer having to jump from bus to bus, Katie arrived with the Ferrari roadies. The sound of tools clinking as the crew was setting up everything for the upcoming race created a magical symphony. In that moment, as a witness of the behind-the-scenes hustle and with the anticipation building up for the race, the thought of ever going home doesn't cross her mind.

"I just want to help," she whines.

They're in Mexico now, and it's Katie's first time in the country. But for their first day, Charles and Carlos decided to stay in, saying they needed to concentrate. For Katie, witnessing moments like these were a job, the reason she felt like a part of the circuit. She would linger in the center of the bed, offering words of encouragement or simply watching a movie together. Sometimes there would be other girls in the room, sometimes it was just her. Regardless, things never ventured further from that.

“No, you’re bored. And that’s dangerous, honestly.” Carlos stands firm on his answer.

It’s not like he’s not interested in what she’s offering, or that he hasn’t thought about it – it’s the reason why she’s asking that’s bothering him. Charles, on the other hand, has been waiting months for an excuse. But he had a deal with his teammates and a commitment in maintaining the appearances; so he kept his mouth shut, trying to appear as if he was agreeing with everything being said.

“Then entertain me.” Katie asks.

Maybe it's the uninspiring color of the walls or the constant thud of the tennis ball from the TV, but Katie is genuinely bored.

“Begging is not a good look on you.” Carlos says, finally turning to look at her. He playfully flicks her forehead, but there's a fire in his eyes that Katie takes mental note of, a memory she'll save to use against him eventually.

PART II — GASOLINE

The soft hum of a distant air conditioner mingles with the rhythmic clinking of ice cubes in a near-empty bar. The bartender, wiping down the counter, shoots a casual nod in their direction. Katie sits on a stool, a cold drink in her hand, condensation leaving delicate droplets on the polished surface.

Emily leans on the bar, an easy smile playing on her lips. The bar stools around them remain unoccupied and the only soundtrack is the soft chatter between friends and the occasional clink of glasses.

Emily was Katie's first friend in the racing world, and their connection came from their shared love for fast cars. Emily, being a couple years older and having a couple years more experience in the racing scene, became a sort of guide for Katie. So, when Katie talked about feeling unsure, Emily felt like she had to share some advice. Their talk wasn't just a casual chat; it was a mentorship.

“Baby girl, just be completely yourself. Be yourself to the fullest, unapologetically you." Emily declares. “Everything we do here is for love. Don’t worry, Artemis will forgive you.”

Katie, wearing her trademark graphic t-shirt and mini skirt, watches as the ice in her drink slowly melts under the Mexican heat. At 19, she's a college dropout who left her family behind to chase the adrenaline-soaked circuits of F1.

But being a young impressionable woman in this testosterone-charged arena came with its own set of challenges. She feels herself staring at the edge of an abyss, ready to jump, but held back by the fear of the unknown. The realization settles in – once she takes that leap, there's no turning back.

Emily, carrying the confidence of someone who took that jump long ago, continues, "And I know it feels like women are not allowed to love. Every time we're passionate about something, no matter how we express it, we end up as the punchline to some misogynist joke. Even if I wasn't sleeping with these guys, people would still treat me like I was. They already made up their minds about me long before they met me." Emily shares. She’s talking about the scrutiny they face, especially within the high-stakes world of the paddock, is a reality they've grown accustomed to. The lingering gazes of multi-millionaires, the subtle condescension in their voices – it's all part of the package. “And we’re not even getting paid!”

PART III — DARK NECESSITIES

It’s only in Vegas that she manages to put her plan into action. Getting Charles alone in a room is easier than she imagined. There are no distractions here – no photoshoots, no interviews, no fans asking for autographs –, no one’s watching. The city’s energy seems to fade and they are completely isolated in a hotel room.

The night unfolds in the heart of Sin City, the stakes are high, and in the quietude of the hotel room, Katie wonders if she's playing her cards right.

For a moment, Katie sheds the layers of her public persona, existing only as a woman whose body burns with an unmistakable yearning for the man before her; a woman with desires as palpable as the heat radiating through the room.

Charles breaks the silence that hangs between them. "Katie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto hers, "are you sure?"

Katie, her gaze unwavering, listens to his words, simply nods. A silent affirmation, a surrender.

"Good girl," Charles whispers, his fingers gently brushing her hair behind her ears. His lips trail down her cheek, seeking the softness of her neck. In this moment, he's attempting to play the part of a gentleman, aware that this is Katie's first time. His breath, a subtle inhale, captures the scent of vanilla on her skin.

She feels a vulnerability she never felt before. Her body reacts instinctively, welcoming him as a lover. She has been waiting for this moment for too long.

“You’re gonna let me touch you, hm?” Charles's voice is muffled as he gently kisses her throat. “You’re going to let me be your first?”

A combination of trust and apprehension lingers within her.

“Yes. Yes.” Katie gasps. She leaves behind any trace of inhibition left and is ready to let him do whatever he wants to her.

Charles, driven by a mix of desire and curiosity, is eager to explore and to taste every inch of her. He takes her to bed and slowly takes off her shirt and bra, kissing her shoulder and leaving little bites along the way. He traces the curves of her breasts with the tip of his tongue, making her euphoric, arousing her even further – making her fully realize just how much she craves his touch. Charles captures her nipple between his teeth, gently sucking on it until it becomes erect under his touch.

He lets his hand slide, under her mini skirt and on top of her panties. Feeling the warmth of his hand on her clothed wet core, Katie lets out a sigh. For her it feels like it takes forever until they’re both naked and Charles has his head buried in between her legs. His lips touch her clit and he’s patient with his kisses, enjoying her innocent taste as much as he can. Charles drags his tongue through the length of her slit, parting her lips with his fingers and sending shivers throughout her entire body.

Charles takes his sweet time opening her up. The neon glow from the outside world seeps through the curtains; as the night deepens, the city pulses with life, unaware of the affair unfolding within the walls of the hotel room.

For a brief moment, everything fades away and Katie’s breathing accelerates, her hips buck involuntarily against his fingers.

“Don’t stop!” Katie urges, desperate to reach her climax. She surrenders to pleasure, moaning loudly as Charles’s tongue explores her more sensitive area.

That’s when they hear a knock on the door. Followed by another. Whoever is outside starts incessantly banging their fist against the wooden door. Startled, they exchange a brief, wide-eyed glance.

“Who is it?” Charles calls out, his voice tinged with irritation; Katie remains wrapped in the bedsheet.

Without receiving an answer, the door swings open, revealing Carlos's stern expression. His eyes flicker between Charles and Katie, registering the scene before him.

"What the hell, Charles?" Sainz's voice carries a mix of frustration and disappointment.

Katie feels a sense of exposure, caught between the two men. Leclerc, caught off guard, stammers in response, "Carlos, I... I didn't think you'd mind. It's just..."

Carlos's gaze intensifies, his disappointment morphing into a subtle betrayal. "We had an agreement," he says, his voice strained. "You weren't supposed to do anything without me." Carlos's eyes shift to Katie, his demeanor changing to one of confidence and dominance. "And you, young lady," he asserts, "you got what you wanted?"

"Not yet," Katie answers, a spark of defiance in her eyes. The tension in the room escalates, the air thick with desire. She notices Carlos eyes lingering on her exposed body. It feels empowering, intoxicating. The anticipation turns her arousal to a fever pitch.

“I want to watch.” Carlos states boldly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since you decided you wanted to do this without me, at least be kind enough to let me watch.”

Katie doesn’t feel like she has a choice, her body has already decided what it wants. Charles lets out a quiet laugh, trying not to appear overly assured in this unexpected turn of events. He wraps his arm around Katie, pulling her closer. Her heartbeat quickens. When Charles reaches for her hand, she takes it, her eyes never leaving Carlos’s face. The pleasure pulsing through her is intense. Carlos moves and positions himself beside them. A second later, there is the unmistakable sound of Carlos's belt buckle being undone. He slips himself free.

Her attention turns back to Charles, who’s preparing himself to finally give her what she wants. She leans in to kiss him, inviting him deeper. Carlos’s eyes stay fixed on Katie as he watches Charles slip into position. Charles’s breath is hot on her ear, filled with lust and excitement. Her muscles are still tight from her lack of experience, but soon, she relaxes and lets go.

He enters slowly, savoring each moment. Charles moans softly, eyes closing as he holds her close. She bites down on her lip, managing to hold back her cries of ecstasy. This is her first time, so it hurts slightly, but also brings such blissful sensations that she can barely contain herself. The anticipation builds until, finally, she can take no more. "Charles," she whispers, reaching up to grasp his neck. Charles wraps his arm tightly around her waist, gently holding her in place.

Her entire body shakes as her orgasm hits, her release ripping through her. When she comes down from the high, she hears Carlos exhale loudly. He doesn't move, only watches her in admiration.

She opens her eyes and looks up. Instinctively, Katie leans forward to take his member into her mouth. She enjoys every moment of his warm girth sliding down her throat. Charles continues to fuck her troughout it. She sucks harder, with passion, like she was made for this. She realizes that, actually, she was.

And with that realization, Carlos spills himself on her soft mouth. She pulls away from him, his seed dripping down her chin. She closes her eyes and returns her attention to Charles, still buried deep inside her, just in time for his release – he comes with a growl, guttural, moaning in her ear.

Afterwards, they lie in bed together, recovering. Charles strokes her hair as Carlos cuddles with her. Charles gives her a gentle smile. "You're really something special, you know that?" He whispers.

#f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz imagine #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #carlos sainz

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shadowbriar · 1 year ago

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James Potter - Call It Fate, Call It Karma

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : Plenty of curse words. Synopsis : James' world was flipped upside down as the engagement ring now sits on the wrong girl's finger. Notes : Post no 4 for my 1 Year Anniversary Celebration. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

James stares at his own reflection, whispering silent prayers as if they were a magic spell to help ground himself, tame the loud beating of his heart and provide the least bit of tranquillity for his troubled mind. It has been days since he’s got a good sleep. The days coming to Remus’ wedding have acted like a ticking time bomb, building anticipation of the apocalypse bound to happen once it explodes.

He wasn’t sure exactly the cause of his consternation. He supposed, wanting to get on your knees and ask your lover for their hand in marriage will surely cause you waves of jitters. The black velvet box in his pocket feels heavier each time he tries to silently reach for it. But could that be it? Could his nervousness to propose to Lily be the sole cause of his distress?

“You’re going to be alright,” James mutters to himself, taking deep breaths between his words “She’s not going to be here.”

A hard slap to his own cheek was done at the realisation of his words. Why would he say that? Why would he even think of her? He has Lily and his mother’s diamond ring to think about. How could she even slip herself in his mind at times like this?

Now James hates to admit it, but the little voice in his heart knew that Remus’ wedding and his plan to propose to Lily was nothing as terrifying as the idea of meeting his Hogwarts’ sweetheart after what seems to be forever. Their abrupt separation before graduation has left scars that James knew would never heal. The kind of marks that will always haunt your nights, making you ponder the unanswered what if scenarios.

The fear of meeting her has always been so grand that James never had the heart to ask Remus if he’s invited her to his wedding. They all have been great friends back in school, it would be more of an appalling fact to know that Remus didn’t invite her, so he remained quiet, letting time to provide him his answer.

“She’s going to be there,” James whispered quietly “And you’re going to be okay with it because she’s no one now. She’s a nobody.”

James nods to himself. The feigned determined expression on his face was fooling no one but it was the only thing he could do for himself. He can’t discuss this with Remus, Remus certainly has a lot on his plate already to prepare for the wedding. He can’t talk about this to Peter or Sirius either because he’s always acted as if he’s completely buried the thought of her though he always wondered if any of his best friends were ever convinced of such an act. And surely, James can’t share this with Lily because what would she think about him then?

The loud banging of his hotel door rudely breaks his train of thoughts. He could tell that the man standing behind the door would be none other than Sirius. There’s no one in this entire universe that is more loud and obnoxious than him.

“Prongs!” Sirius greets once the door is opened for him “Ah, you look grand, mate!”

James forced a smile, letting Sirius to get inside his suite.

“So I’ve got news for you. Good news and bad news. Which do you prefer to hear first?” Sirius asks, rubbing his hands together in an apprehensive manner “Knowing you, I’d go with the good news first. So the good news is, you, me, Remus, and Peter are going to go spend the night at the bar close by and live our life as if we never left that dreary dormitory room back in Hogwarts.”

“Tonight?” James asked “I don’t know mate, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately. I’m afraid I have to sit this one out. I might skip Remus’ wedding tomorrow if I don’t.”

“Nonsense! It’s the groom’s request and you’re one of his groom’s men so you have no other choice but to obliged.”

James rolled his eyes, groaning, “Fine. What’s the bad news, then?”

“Uh, right, the bad news.” Sirius says, now placing an arm around the bespectacled boy in an attempt of consolation “She’s going to join us tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely sit this one out.” James says as he pushes Sirius’ arm and walks away.

“No, no, no, no! It’s going to be fine. You see, me and Peter have crafted this plan to keep the two of you separate. I’ll be your wingman and Peter will watch over her so the two of you won’t meet unless it's absolutely necessary.” Sirius explains, trying to coax James to give in “You can’t seriously think that we’ll allow you to miss the last night before Remus is married.”

“Yes, but it’s her, Pads!” James argues, running his hand through his hair in desperation “Meeting her would essentially end me, quite literally!”

“No, no it won’t! Me and Peter will be there, remember?” Sirius lures “And you’ll be busy with Lily too, won't you? She’ll tether you to the ground.”

James groans once more, “Lily won’t be here until tomorrow morning. She’s stuck with her sister.”

“Oh,” Sirius grimaced.

James wasn’t sure if such a response was due to the fact that Lily’s sister is a terrible person to be stuck with or that Lily’s absence would cause greater chance of him to plummet back to the darkness. Either way it proved to be a better reason for him to skip this night out.

“Look, I love Remus and I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but I really don’t think I should come.” James says, his hand reaching to the velvet box in his pocket and showing it to Sirius “I can’t afford to make any mistake.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, staring at the box, “You’re planning to propose?”

“Not at Remus’ wedding, no,” James answers “But yeah.”

“To Lily?”

“Well, yeah. Who else?”

Sirius frowns and James wasn’t sure if that was solely caused by his surprise or was there any other underlying reason as to why he wasn’t ecstatic to hear this. James expected him to be as delighted as when Remus announced his engagement. He could clearly remember the expressions plastered on each of his friends’ faces that night. Now such joy seems to be void of Sirius’ face.

“I— We’ll talk more about this later but you need to come with us tonight. You have to!” Sirius says again “I swear on my parents’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Like I said, I’ll be your wingman.”

“You have no regards for your parents’ Sirius. That’s not a very convincing swear.”

“Well who else do you want me to swear their name upon? My Death Eater brother?”

“Ex-Death Eater.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Fine, I swear on Regulus’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Now will you please hurry and change out of your ugly shirt? Wear something more decent, won’t you?”

—-

It was comforting. The layers of blanket wrapping her body, soft pillows around her head and the warmth it brought to her were something she wished she could keep in a bottle. Waking up in hotel beds has always been something she adores. It reminds her of her own bed back in Hogwarts, familiar and comfortable.

Her eyes were still half opened, trying to adjust to the brightness the sunlight was peeking through the sheer curtain. She must have forgotten to properly close it last night. Hell, she couldn’t even recall how she managed to get back to her hotel room. The last she could remember was meeting Remus and his fiancé before being whisked away by Peter to take shots by the bar.

The rest of the night felt like a complete skip of nothingness. She hoped that whatever happened last night wouldn’t cause Remus any trouble or embarrassment for herself. She does have the tendency to cause problems whenever she’s taken one too many drinks.

Her brows were knitted when a foreign object was felt as she rubbed her eyes. She stares at the solitaire ring now sitting beautifully on her left ring finger. It was gleaming under the limited light of the room. Whose ring was this?

“Good morning,” She heard a man’s voice greet her.

The sound was very pleasant to her ear. Like a warm cosy home you haven’t visited in a while but managed to return to after a while. It fills her heart with contentment, joy, and tranquillity. As if her heart was ready to implode from the satisfactory feeling. But the more her senses awake, the more consciousness she gained, she recognises whose voice this beautiful sound belongs to.

“Potter?!” She screams, pushing him who had his arms around her waist out of the bed “What are you doing in my room?!”

“I— What?!” James woke up from the scream, frantic to find the situation he’s in “What the— What’s going on?! I thought you were Lily!”

“I should be asking you that question! What are you doing in my room?!”

James grabs his glasses that were sitting by the bedside table, assessing the suite with half sleepy eyes, “This is my room! Those are my coat and shoes by the door, see?”

“I— Then what the hell am I doing here?!”

“I don’t know! You’re the one trespassing!”

“I did no such thing! I was at the bar with Peter and then— I just— What?!”

Her chest was heaving in panic. Her eyes crazed, looking around the suite to understand the setting better. She wasn’t supposed to be in this room. She wasn’t supposed to be in James Potter’s room. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to meet him. She’s sworn to steer clear of his presence and it was the only condition she gave to Remus before agreeing to come to his wedding, that she would be placed as furthest as possible from him. So how is it that she’s finding herself on his bed right now?

“What is that?” James asked, pointing at the ring on her finger “Why do you have my mother’s ring on you?”

“I don’t fucking know, Potter. It found itself sitting there the moment I opened my eyes.” She spat, trying to take the ring off of her but proved to have such an action failing “What the hell?”

“Take it off!”

“I’m trying!” She yells “It won’t come off!”

“I— Shit, why do I have this on me too?” James questions as he notices a matching ring on his finger “Where was this from?”

“You’re asking me? Do I look like I know anything about rings?!” She says irritatedly, still trying to get the ring off of her “I can’t take this off unless we cut my finger.”

“Well, that’s an idea.”

She glares at him, not saying a word.

“This is bad.” James mutters as he begins to pace, feeling the anxiety to sink in “That was supposed to be on Lily’s finger, not yours!”

“Lily? Lily Evans?”

“Which other Lily do you know?”

“You’re planning to propose to Lily?” She asks, looking baffled now “How did you even manage to date her? She’s way beyond your league.”

James blinks, offended by her comment, “Mind you, I am in the same league as her. We’ve been happily together for years now.”

“Wait, you’re planning to propose to her at Remus’ wedding?” She questions “Talk about stealing your best friend’s thunder.”

“I— No, I wasn’t planning to propose to her today, okay! I only have the ring with me as an anchor so can you please take it off and return it before I’m losing my last strands of sanity.”

“It’s not coming off, I told you!”

James groans in despair, running his hand through his hair. He could feel his pillars crumbling down. That demon is finally claiming his soul once more. He has to force himself to walk further from the bed, pacing around the empty space so he could stop himself from staring at her. Even with such effort to create distance between them, James knows that he couldn’t fool himself. The crazy beating of his heart when he saw her have done more damage than he could ever afford to face.

Then suddenly, a loud banging on the door was heard. James turned his eyes to see her, seeing that panic on her face at the demanding sound. Sirius was persistent with his knocking.

“Don’t open it,” She warns “Don’t let anyone in. We can’t talk to anyone until we figure out what happened to us.”

“Nothing happened between us.” James says, not wanting to yield to reality just yet “You were just drunk and you mistakenly thought that my suite was yours.”

“Oh, I was drunk? How about you, do you remember anything then?” She challenges, pointing to the engagement ring on her finger “Have any clue as to why this ring of yours is on my finger?”

“I— Fuck!” James cruses, rubbing the bridge of his nose to calm himself “I have to open the door. Sirius won’t stop knocking unless I do.”

“Sirius’ knocking is the least of our troubles. What we need to do now is to trace down what happened to us last night. I refuse to go out of this door wearing this stupid ring. What am I to say if others ask?!”

“Well, I can’t remember shit from last night so we’ll only be running in circles, Sweetheart.” James retorts “And mind you, it’s not a stupid ring. It’s my mother’s.”

Her expression softens a little. Memories of how sweet and loving Euphemia Potter was came rushing in like a tidal wave. James’ mother has always been so fond of her, treating her as if she was her own daughter. She would always remember how his mother would compliment them two, saying that they remind her of how in love she was with James’ father back in the day. Now such memories only do more harm than good for her sanity.

Taking her silence as staleness in their argument, James walks himself to the door. His steps were wide and angry. Irritated by the persisting banging done by Sirius, his lack of understanding of the trouble he finds himself in, and the crazy beating of his heart from being in her presence.

“What?!” James spat at Sirius as he opened the door, barely so that Sirius won’t be able to peek inside.

“I— Geez mate, woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” Sirius asked with a raised brow “I was just worried you’ll miss the wedding. You disappeared last night, I thought something happened.”

Something did happen, James thought, but found himself shaking his head instead, “No, nothing happened. I was just about to take a shower and get ready. Thanks for checking up on me.”

Sirius nods, unimpressed by his words but takes it in anyway. He opens his mouth before closing it once again. Looking as if he has something to ask but decides to not to. Whatever that question might be, James was glad that it was never uttered. He has plenty on his plate already at the moment.

“Right,” Sirius says instead “I’ll see you at the venue, then.”

James nods, closing the door as Sirius turns his heels away.

He let out a relieved sigh once the clicking sound of the door was heard. James closes his eyes before turning to see her again. She was still on his bed, buried under the many blankets and pillows around her. If this wasn’t reality, James would’ve enjoyed such sight and count this as his family friendly wet dream.

“Who was it?”

“Sirius,” James answered “He wanted to check up on me. Said I disappeared last night. I didn’t tell him anything, don’t worry.”

She nodded, “So what are we to do now?”

“I don’t know.” James says, defeated that he has no proper answer to give her “I— Lily and I were supposed to meet at the venue. She doesn’t know that I was planning to propose. I guess I can just bullshit my way and say that this is just a dress ring and it’s stuck on me for the moment.”

“Alright,” She bobs her head in understanding “Then what about me? What am I to tell people? Cause people will ask.”

“Well, maybe you can just lie and say that you recently got engaged? At least until we can figure out a way to get that ring out of your finger.”

“But I don’t have a partner. If I do and I just recently got engaged, shouldn’t my fiancé be my plus one? People will ask more questions about his wherebeing.”

“Well, do you have any better excuse? Fire away, I’m open for suggestions.”

She rolls her eyes, finding his sarcastic response to be the very least helpful, “Fine, I’ll do that.”

James watches as she begins to collect her purse and jacket that was scattered on the carpeted floor. He tries to bite down the slight satisfaction of hearing that she was single. He knew that it was wrong to feel this way and it has been years since they met, surely she’s dated other people after their separation, but to know that she wasn’t bound with anyone the moment they had their reunion sparked something inside him. Something that he knew was so sinful that he would never be able to atone.

“Can you check if the hallway is clear? I don’t want to meet anyone as I come out of your door.”

James nods, peeking out of the empty hall before turning back to her with a nod.

“Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t even breathe my way at the venue.” She said to him, finger firmly pointing at him in a threatening manner “I will hex you to death right on the spot if you do.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She gave him a glare one last time before leaving his suite. James could finally let out the breath he unconsciously held once he was left alone. He walks back to his bed, sitting on it and hating the fact that her perfume lingers on its cover. Now he wouldn’t be able to shake the sweet scent off of his mind, even if he was to obliviate himself to it. But then again, what is a wedding without some drama, right?

#james potter #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #james potter scenario #james potter scenarios #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x oc #james potter x y/n

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months ago

Text

➼｡ﾟ Love Me Harder I William Nylander

[Pilot]

Sofie Boch de Lacour's life takes an unexpected twist when she's tasked with organising her ex-fiancé's engagement party, reopening old wounds she believed had healed. At the same time, NHL star William Nylander, under constant scrutiny from the press, considers a bold fake relationship to regain his privacy. As their paths cross, an unforeseen connection develops, challenging everything they thought they knew about love and second chances.

Tropes & Warnings: William Nylander x ofc, fake relationship, no warnings

Author's note: So, this is the pilot chapter of a story I've been working on 😊 I'm not entirely sure yet how long the series will be, but it's been my little off-season project 😉 I'm a bit nervous about posting this, but without further ado, I hope you enjoy it 🌺

Please note: the season in this fic is set in 2024/25. However, I started writing it before the schedule was released, so it's entirely fictional (the schedule is based on the 2022/2023 season) 😉

Word count: 3.5K

➼｡ﾟ

“I’m a motherfucking Starboy.”

Saturday, September 13th 2024

Sofie gazed at herself in the mirror, her eyes resolute. "You can do this," she murmured, attempting to reassure herself. "It’s just another day at work, nothing more." She forced a smile, practising how she’d face him tonight.

Her outfit was flawless: a tight navy blue pencil skirt and a fine white silk blouse, epitomising her professional demeanour. Her make-up was perfectly applied, exuding confidence, and her hair was styled in an elegant French knot.

"You’ve got this!"

___

Sofie Boch de Lacour seemed to have it all - or almost, anyway.

Growing up in a cosy, welcoming home just outside Copenhagen, Denmark, with her parents and three siblings, everything seemed to be just right. There was her older sister, Amelia, a powerhouse in Economics and the epitome of a boss lady. Then there was her older brother, Charlie, a dedicated and ideal family man with his wife, Rosaline, and their two kids. And lastly, there was Nicholas, the youngest, a rising star in ice hockey for the Malmö Redhawks.

Needless to say, the parents were beyond proud, beaming at their accomplished children.

Sofie, however, was a bit different. While she did well in school, she never stood out. Her job as a Booking and Reservations Hostess at the Radisson Hotel was decent, but hardly remarkable, and her free time revolved around a small, loyal circle of friends. In short, her life was perfectly average and nothing extraordinary.

Yet, a part of her yearned for more.

Although Sofie had spent years convincing herself that she was content with her life, a part of her still wanted to stand alongside her siblings on that golden pedestal, and perhaps even start a family of her own someday. But with those achievements seeming distant, she opted instead to travel the world, seeking new horizons and fresh perspectives. So, at the age of 24, after completing her studies in Hospitality and Event Management, she volunteered in underprivileged areas and explored the grandeur of bustling cities and serene countrysides. Along the way, in far-flung corners of the world, she immersed herself in diverse cultures, music, and cuisines, encountering people whose kindness left an indelible mark. And though her journey wasn’t without challenges - unpredictable weather, miscommunication, even some precarious moments - it was all part of her grand adventure.

Towards the end of her travels, during a final stop in Canada, Sofie felt weary and craved the tranquillity of home. Yet, just as she prepared to return, fate intervened, and she crossed paths with Anthony Beaulieu — a successful Canadian in Toronto’s financial district, a few years older, and impeccably dressed as if plucked from a Vogue cover. And drawn to his success and her long-held dreams of a small family, Sofie quickly fell for him. So, within months of casual dating and sharing incredible moments near and far, she boldly decided to relocate to Toronto and live with him.

For three years, Sofie and Anthony built a life together, navigating their careers while creating cherished memories. Sofie secured a role as a Booking and Event Coordinator at the Fairmont Royal Hotel, while Anthony ascended in the world of economics and financial investments, steadily climbing the career ladder. Then, on a balmy summer evening on a beach in Greece’s most romantic setting, Anthony knelt before Sofie with a diamond ring gleaming in his hand and proposed, whisking Sofie into a fairy tale.

It was just too good to be true.

So, naturally, that dream swiftly shattered upon returning to their daily routines, where Anthony's attention gradually shifted towards another woman, claiming they shared more common interests.

And perhaps he was right. Daisy, younger than Sofie and vastly different, craved stability in her homeland, aspiring to a high-end lifestyle and the role of a stay-at-home wife - a stark contrast to Sofie's dedication to hard work and community service. While Sofie found fulfilment in helping others, Daisy revelled in luxury, only concerned with her own well-being.

Sofie naturally didn’t particularly like the woman, but she reminded herself that Daisy was simply a young woman who had faced no real challenges in life, whether financial or otherwise. She was just a woman who fell in love with an engaged man.

Heartbroken, Sofie's engagement ended just six months after the proposal. Despite this, she chose to stay in vibrant Toronto, unwilling to abandon the life she had built. Continuing her job that she enjoyed, she found solace in true friendships and shared a home with Samantha; a friend of a colleague who needed a roommate. Sofie treasured her close-knit circle, finding additional comfort as her younger brother Nicholas seized an opportunity to play hockey in Montreal.

In essence, Sofie's journey persisted. Despite setbacks, she remained steadfast in forging her own path and embracing the life she had carved out for herself.

___

Nearly a year had passed, and a day Sofie could never have anticipated arrived: the day she would be organising an engagement party for her former fiancé and his new partner. Sofie was convinced that Anthony had chosen the Fairmont Royal York Hotel deliberately to spite her, yet he insisted it was all Daisy’s preference. And using his extensive network and familiarity with hotel managers, he ensured his new love’s desires were met.

The situation was a stab to Sofie's heart. Despite having no desire to get back with Anthony and acknowledging that Daisy was indeed a better match for him, the circumstances still cut deep.

Yet, on the day of the event, Sofie maintained her professionalism impeccably. She ensured every detail was flawless, transforming the Ontario room into a scene of elegance with soft lighting and fresh flowers, perfectly capturing the joyous occasion. Her colleagues praised her for her poise and dedication, unaware of the emotional turmoil she was enduring.

As the guests began to arrive, Sofie then retreated to a quiet corner, observing from afar. She watched Anthony and Daisy socialise with their loved ones, their happiness palpable, while she made sure the event unfolded according to plan.

As the night wore on, Sofie found herself in need of a breath of fresh air. Despite her best efforts to act professionally, a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt still lingered within her. So, stepping outside into the alley behind the hotel, she took a deep breath, the cool evening breeze a welcome relief from the heated atmosphere inside. And absent-mindedly, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and mentally escaping, completely lost in thought.

Meanwhile, in the Canadian Room, the Toronto MLSE Foundation was hosting their grand start-of-the-season charity event. The room was adorned with elegant decorations, shimmering lights, and lavish flower arrangements, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and celebration. It buzzed with lively conversations and laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional cheer from a successful auction bid. Servers weaved through the crowd, offering trays of gourmet hors d'oeuvres and sparkling champagne, while a live band played smooth jazz in the background, adding to the ambiance of the event.

It was a night where the worlds of sports and charity came together, offering an opportunity for the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey players to step off the ice and mingle with distinguished guests and sponsors. Amidst it all, they participated in various games and activities to raise funds for underprivileged communities.

And among the crowd of players, William Nylander was deeply engrossed in a game of air hockey. His focus was intense as he tried to outplay his usual teammate but now opponent Ryan Reaves, but luck wasn't on his side that evening. His teammate Max Domi stood beside him, offering words of encouragement and occasional teasing remarks. And behind them, their friend and teammate Auston Matthews chuckled, enjoying the friendly competition as William faced another frustrating loss.

Looking up from his game, William let out a deep sigh, catching a glimpse of a side door leading to the hallway. The need for a brief escape from the crowded room and relentless socialising tugged at him. "I'll be right back," he told his friends, excusing himself from the table. With a nod from Max and a grin from Auston, William then made his way through the throng of guests, heading towards the door for a moment of solitude.

____

William Nylander was an exceptional hockey player, a key star for the Maple Leafs whose talent earned him praise and attention throughout the 23/24 season. From the Global Series in his hometown of Stockholm to being voted into the All-Star Game in Toronto, William had become a prominent figure in the spotlight. He was even set to feature in an upcoming NHL documentary, which delved behind the scenes of the greatest league in the world - fueling William’s already blazing fame.

Hockey was even a familiar realm from childhood for William. His father, Michael, had been an NHL player, leading the family across North America as he pursued his career. Despite the constant moves, William found his home and forged his own hockey path in Toronto. And one of his greatest dreams came true at the beginning of the year when he finally signed an eight-year contract extension.

However, with great fame comes great responsibility. And in a hockey-mad city like Toronto, media scrutiny could be intense. While the players generally accepted it as part of achieving their NHL dreams, invasive media intrusion into their personal lives - fuelled by social media for views, likes, and comments - was unwelcome. Despite embracing the spotlight most of the time, none of them wanted paparazzi following them or their loved ones with sensationalised stories.

And when William suddenly found his name plastered across headlines, discussing his personal life and speculating about his relationships, it infuriated him. While he appreciated the spotlight for his hockey skills and perhaps a bit for his fashion sense, all he truly desired was recognition for his on-ice performance - as a top player who scored goals and supported his team. He resented people focusing on his health issues or spreading rumours that suggested he only reached the NHL due to his father's influence. And above all, he valued his privacy and wished his personal life to remain just that - private.

___

So, seeking what little freedom he still felt he had, William walked towards the door leading to the alley behind the hotel, lost in thought about the swirling rumours surrounding him potentially appearing on Sweden's 'Ex on the Beach.' His steps were quick and purposeful, each one echoing his frustration, as he pushed the heavy door open with a forceful shove.

"Ouch! Fucking hell!" a female voice exclaimed as the door collided with her. "What the fuck?"

William quickly looked to see a woman rubbing her head where the door had struck her. She glared up at him with a mixture of irritation and pain, her eyes narrowing and her lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

"Excuse you?" Sofie retorted sharply, still simmering with frustration and residual irritation from her ex's engagement party earlier. Her voice carried the sting of someone who had been pushed too far.

Exhausted from the relentless attention at the charity event, William felt a surge of irritation himself. He had no desire to deal with anyone, let alone a potential fan lurking outside. So, letting out a sigh, he stepped fully outside and faced the girl he had accidentally bumped into. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set in a hard line.

"Excuse me? Maybe you shouldn't be blocking the fucking door like that," he scoffed, his tone edged with weariness. "What were you even doing here? Spying on us? Hoping some player would come out and give you an autograph if you hung around long enough?"

Sofie looked at him with a curious expression, her eyebrow arching in disbelief. Who did he think he was? Crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive posture, she exuded defiance.

"First of all, I was just trying to get away from another event, and I didn’t realise I was standing in front of a door... And second, I'm not some crazy fan snooping around for a stupid autograph. Do you think you're rock stars or something?" Sofie half-laughed with a snort, a hint of contempt in her voice. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of anger and amusement, daring him to contradict her.

William was slightly taken aback. Part of him felt a small relief that she wasn’t another groupie looking to hook up with hockey players, yet he couldn’t help but be offended by her audacity to speak to him like that. Exhaustion mixed with prickling irritation, he let out another sigh.

"Well, sorry then," he muttered.

"What was that?" Sofie asked, feeling slightly irked by his dismissive tone.

"I said sorry, alright," he repeated, a touch louder and with a hint of impatience. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a physical manifestation of his struggle to keep his temper in check.

"Well, I suppose that wasn’t so hard," Sofie retorted.

Normally, at this level of exhaustion, William would let it go, not wanting any confrontation at the moment. But her remarks struck a nerve, and he couldn’t let them slide. So, he squared his shoulders, meeting her gaze head-on.

"And what about you, then?" he responded, looking at her seriously.

"What about me?" Sofie shot back, her stance shifting slightly, as if bracing for a verbal duel.

"Shouldn’t you say you’re sorry? For standing in the way," he challenged.

Sofie raised an eyebrow and spoke mockingly, "Oh, I’m sorry, was I in your way, starboy? Oh, you’re right, I am so, so sorry," her tone dripping with sarcasm, each word a barb aimed at his ego.

And with a small huff, Sofie then turned on her heel and headed back inside, her steps deliberate and confident, leaving the self-important hockey player behind her.

William let out a huff as well, thinking she was full of herself and rolling his eyes at Sofie's departure. Then, taking a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, he savoured the moment for just a few seconds before returning to the evening's event. He simply tried to shake off the encounter and focus on getting through the rest of the night, yet the memory of her defiant eyes lingered in his mind.

___

Wednesday, October 9th

"Come on, man, let it go!" Alex's voice echoed in Swedish through the condo as he sprawled on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. "And stop reading that stuff... it's not doing you any good, believe me."

William lounged beside his brother, the setting sun casting warm tones across his spacious 28th-floor condo. He sighed deeply, his frustration evident. Yet another day brought intrusive articles delving into his personal life instead of celebrating his hockey skills. The media's relentless focus on his relationships, or lack thereof, irritated him like an insistent itch he couldn’t ignore.

"I know, I know," William responded wearily. "But it's everywhere, Alex. I can't avoid it. Every time I check my phone, there's another headline speculating about who I'm seeing or what I'm up to."

Alex Nylander, William’s younger brother and trusted confidant, understood the toll the media scrutiny was taking on William. Despite being a slightly less prominent hockey player himself, playing for the Toronto Marlies as of this season, and not receiving as much media attention, Alex had seen firsthand how fame could invade personal privacy.

"Yeah, it's tough," Alex acknowledged, glancing at his brother with a sympathetic expression. "But you can't let it get to you. They’ll always be looking for something to write about."

William exhaled heavily once more. "I know, I just can’t," he admitted. "Shit, if only I could do something to get them to stop writing about this stuff and let me focus on hockey. Why does it even matter if I see a new girl every week? Just because I have the option to hook up with anyone I want."

Alex chuckled knowingly. "Yeah, man, they're always on the lookout for the next juicy story."

William pondered Alex's words, his gaze drifting to the old framed photo of him lifting a championship trophy when he was just 12 years old. "Yeah, but it's exhausting," he confessed wearily. "I just want to play hockey."

Alex noticed his brother pause for a moment before a mischievous idea sparked in his tone. "Hey, why don’t you just say that you’re in a relationship? Tell them you’re off the market, then they won’t have anything to write about."

William considered the suggestion, remembering the backlash from previous encounters with media scrutiny. "Hmm, yeah - but then they’ll start asking questions… like who she is and all that. Remember what happened with that blonde girl last year?"

“Ah yeah, and then she couldn't wait to get her name everywhere…” Alex recalled with a disappointed grin. Another deep sigh escaped William's lips, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the sound of his dogs padding across the hardwood floor. Then during the brief silence, Alex seized the opportunity with a playful suggestion. "What if you just find someone - anyone really - and, I don't know, pretend to be in a relationship, like strike a deal with her? Then it won’t matter what they ask about. You just say that you’re in a relationship with this girl and she’ll agree - end of discussion."

William chuckled at the audacity of the idea, a slight smile appearing on his face. "What, like fake dating? That’s wild, man."

"Come on, bro, you know, like celebrities do all the time when they're tired of rumours and stalkers. They just pretend to be in a serious relationship to shut down the fake news," Alex explained.

William pondered the unconventional strategy, glancing over at his two beloved doodles lounging beside him on the sofa. The concept of a fake relationship seemed strange at first, yet oddly appealing. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad plan after all. He could use a break from the relentless media poking. And maybe - just maybe - telling everyone he was taken would finally shut them up.

But then his mind churned with possibilities and concerns. Who could he trust enough to play such a significant role in his life, even if it was all just for show? He needed someone reliable, someone who could convincingly act as his partner in front of the cameras and, more importantly, someone who wouldn’t complicate his life further.

As he contemplated, William felt the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. "It might actually work," he murmured. "I just need to figure out who would be the right person for this."

____

Thursday, October 10th

Sofie’s heels reverberated through the lavish corridors of the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, their sound muted against the polished marble floors that gleamed under the shimmering light of crystal chandeliers. The hotel's grandeur never ceased to impress her, from its lofty ceilings adorned with intricate mouldings to walls adorned with timeless artwork.

However, today, the splendour of the hotel felt less significant as Sofie made her way to her manager Cynthia Moore's office - a summons that typically heralded new challenges or demanding events. Or worse…

Pausing to gather herself, Sofie smoothed the fabric of her navy pencil skirt before lightly tapping on the door.

"Come in," Cynthia’s voice called out from inside. Sofie entered, immediately sensing a hint of tension in Cynthia’s demeanour as she looked up from her impeccably organised desk. With a graceful gesture, Cynthia invited Sofie to take a seat, her expression a blend of empathy and determined professionalism.

"Sofie, thank you for coming in at such short notice," she began, her tone gentle as she folded her hands on the desk. "So, as you may have guessed, I have a special assignment for you."

Sofie nodded with a smile, studying her manager with interest. "Of course, Cynthia. What can I do for you?" she asked, her voice steady yet tinged with curiosity.

Cynthia paused briefly, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "It involves an upcoming wedding we’re hosting here at the hotel. The client has specifically requested that you oversee the event. The entire event."

Sofie's brow furrowed in genuine surprise. "Me? But I mostly handle bookings and corporate events. I don't have much experience with weddings."

"I know," Cynthia acknowledged with a hint of regret, her gaze steady as it met Sofie's. "But this client has insisted on your involvement. And... this could be a significant opportunity for you, Sofie - an opportunity to broaden your skill set, enhance your resume, and potentially earn additional bonuses." Her expression softened momentarily, a hint of admiration in her eyes. "While I'll miss having you on my team, I want to see you grow and seize every opportunity in your career."

Sofie absorbed Cynthia’s words, contemplating the implications of this unexpected turn. Despite her uncertainty, she found comfort in Cynthia's unwavering support and belief in her capabilities.

"Well, I'm always up for new challenges," Sofie responded with a genuine smile, though a touch of apprehension lingered in her eyes. "Just one question - whose wedding are we planning?"

Cynthia took a deep breath. "It’s... Anthony Beaulieu’s wedding."

Sofie's heart sank. “Oh, fuck…”

#love me harder #William x Sofie #wn88 imagine #william nylander fic #toronto maple leafs fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

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