#there are a lot of other details that I didn't mention here because then that would be an EVEN longer post

[felassan]

David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:

"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"

"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."

"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."

"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."

"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""

"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"

[source thread]

User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]

[ineffable-xenanigans]

A Mouthful of Blessings (4/6)

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, applying a minor miracle to both the oysters and the ox ribs so that they’d stay at a safe temperature for an indefinite amount of time. This might take a while, after all, and it would be unbecoming to let their lovely dinner spoil in the interim.

Continue reading Chapter 4: Flood on AO3!

Also: I'M A DEMON, I LIED. This chapter was supposed to go up tomorrow, but I finished the illustration and couldn't help myself. Also yayyyyyyy we finally got to have some proper smut 😈

Speaking of illustrations and smut, you'll encounter the full NSFW image as you read on AO3, hehehe. But here's another snippet, as a treat.

Vintage underwear inspo a bit later, just click on Keep reading :D

If you haven't come across this fic before, you could also just start reading A Mouthful of Blessings from the beginning...

Rating: E Length: 6 chapters (8k words) Summary:

This story starts, as it will end, with a prayer. In Chapter 1, we learn that angels can hear the prayers that name them. In Chapter 6, Crowley uses this knowledge for good and evil; in other words, so he can dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied. What happens in between? A whole lot of things, actually, including but not limited to: love confessions, crying, laughing, suggestive oyster shucking, and a flood.

The remaining chapters will be released tomorrow and the day after tomorrow!

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)

@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover

🎨 only: @good-omens-gallery

🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark

As I mentioned in this post, I had a hard time deciding what kind of undergarments I wanted to put Aziraphale in. After some discussions on Tumblr and Discord, I ended up going with a style that was apparently popular between the 1930s and 50s (actual fashion historians, please correct me if I'm wrong).

Source: vintagedancer.com/1930s/1930s-mens-underwear-history

Source: vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-mens-underwear

Source: vintagedancer.com/1950s/1950s-mens-underwear-history

Those aren't the only images I looked at, but I think those sources are quite nice because they show you a lot of the variety going on back then.

I just liked the details of the curved waist on the front and the snaps on the back :3 oh, and there's supposed to be a couple of seams back there, but I didn't draw them because I was too lazy *coughs* I couldn't get them to look nice in this particular pose *chokes* I made the deliberate artistic choice to keep his undies simple to match the tablecloth, of course.

[estranhossonhos]

History and fashion nerds rejoice, I hadn't anticipated the post stretching out quite so much, but I think you might enjoy it - or at least I hope so! 🤍

- note added after final review because, well, it's about my latest adhd induced hyperfixation.

Ok, first of all - LOOK AT THE DETAILS ON THAT ILLUSTRATION!! ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! Congratulations and please keep up your amazing work, @marichka!💗

But you know what I loved the most? The fact that this post showed up, out of nowhere (I didn't know nor followed @marichka's art until now - I suggest you do the same and follow them) when, for the past few weeks, I've been on Pinterest, pinning illustrations and old photos that showcase the Portuguese* folk/traditional clothing.

On the left an example of a girl wearing the Ukrainian shawl; on the right, a girl wearing the Portuguese shawl.

After avoiding and even ignoring this part of my ancestors' history, I've recently fell in love with it, after receiving two traditional black scarfs. And I've been reading a lot more about them, after looking for inspiration on Pinterest, so I can experiment and include in my daily outfits for this season. They resembles a lot with the Ukrainian scarfs, and from other countries as well, that were heavily influenced by Moorish, Mediterranean, and Atlantic cultures.

I mean, they all have obviously their own differences and charm, but this is why I love to study history so much: it always fascinating to notice how we are all connected. Through language, costums, clothing, and/or other aspects that we think are uniquely our own, but somehow - through positive influence or sometimes - impossible to not mention human's dark nature - through appropriation, invasions, war, etc. Whether this commom thread that unites us has its origin on genuine admiration, positive cultural exchanges or in malice, I just wanted to congratulate @marichka's amazing attention to detail with those scarfs, and the rest of her work, of course. Which, by the way, is part of their illustration series on Ukrainian headdresses. 😍

Ugh, I just love when these tiny life coincidences happen - it always makes my day!

But before I post this rambling, I hope the artist doesn't mind I take the chance to showcase more photos of the Portuguese shawl (and the rest of the portuguese traditional clothing), above-mentioned.

Extract from @marichka's post, that started this never ending post （〃'◡'〃）

______________________

You can read more about them Portuguese Folklore on this website, but I recommend starting on this article if you just want to check clothing: The Variety of traditional clothing in Porttugal/ A variedade dos trajes tradicionais em Portugal - Folclore.PT The shawl/ O Xaile | Trajes tradicionais portugueses - Folclore.PT

And here are some photos (photos are hyperlinked to other own article of origin):

Part of the Vianesa Traditional Dressing, which is now considered an icon of the city of Viana do Castelo.

«A woman from Minho with a algibeira» - algibeira are pouches that women would add to their waist apron (in front or underneath) and depending on their status they were either have lots of colours, motifs, etc.

Lavradeiras da Abelheira (Cliché of the distinguished amateur Mr. Emigdio Freitas, from Porto) in "Ilustração Portuguesa", nº709 – September 22, 1919

This photo was not taken from the website Folclore.pt website. Had to take it from here, to show you a similar to the one I got.

Different ways to wear, as a headscarf - depending on your region, weather, status, work-life, etc.

And finally, I just now this found website that apparently is a «project for the preservation of European culture in the field of customs related to traditional dances», and this page summarises Portugal's: Portugal – 4DCulture Platform

The Wedding Dance (1566) by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

For now they only have information on Bulgaria, Germany, Lithuania, Portugal and Greece. But it has the European Commission's support and we need to, now more than ever, elevate and keep on supporting all cultural databases (online* and offline - check what you can do locally: on your local library or museums, for example).

*I don't want to prolong this any further, but regarding those online databases, I am again talking about the incoming digital dark ages, that every day seems to become more and more real. You can, and should, read more about it by searching the latest Internet Archive news, or you can start here: - Shining a Light on the Digital Dark Age - Long Now - We're losing our digital history. Can the Internet Archive save it? - The New Digital Dark Age | WIRED - and this video essay (that's already pending urgent updating, but that is still a valid complement to the 3 articles highlighted above):

Uhhh, I've been drawing these ornaments for so long💙 I like to dig in some kind of ornament, or leaves, or a forest and just decoratively draw everything, it's like meditation for me The only downside is that I draw such things for a very long time, and sometimes I disappear from social networks How do you like this illustration?

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 16

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

When Bill and Ford are in the dreamscape together, their dialogue is written normally. But if Bill and Ford are communicating in Fords head without the mindscape, Bills dialogue is in "italics", and Fords dialogue is in 'apostrophes and italics'.

First - Prev - Next

CH.16

“Stan?”

“What’s up, stretch?”

“To my understanding, you’re familiar with a… sizable number of illicit substances?”

“Why, you looking for a plug?”

“A… plug?”

“Ya know, a guy who can hook you up with stuff.”

“...Stan, I’m not looking for a drug dealer.”

“Good, because all of the ones I know hate my guts.”

“Are you familiar with a substance called Ketamine?”

“Special K? Haven’t used it, but I’ve heard of it. I heard it kinda does what magic mushrooms do, but without all the visions.”

“It’s a dissociative non-opioid, anesthetic, and analgesic.”

“So it’s like heroine, but it isn’t heroine?”

“Ain’t exactly like that, but you can think about it that way.”

“What about it?”

“I’ve reached out to a colleague in psychology about your case - don’t worry none, I didn’t use names or details - she told me about a hypnotherapy that’s assisted by ketamine.”

“Hypnosis? Like, mind control?”

“That’s a popular misconception - hypnotherapy has been called hypnotic suggestion, but the goal is to bring the patient in question into a greater state of focus with less peripheral awareness, so they may relax and turn their attention inward. Are you following me, Stan?”

“It… blocks out background noise?”

“In a way, yes, just with thoughts. I don’t believe your memories are gone, they’re just buried under a lot of mental clutter and distractions.”

“And ketamine helps with that?”

“It’s a dissociative drug, it’s meant to help with trauma by approaching it without connecting to it. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“I thought you said you weren’t an actual therapist, where would you even get-.”

“I’m not going to be conducting the session, it’s going to be that colleague I just mentioned.”

“... I dunno F, I don’t have the greatest history with shrinks.”

“You’ve seen therapists before?”

“Seen is…a word.”

“What happened?”

“Do the words ‘padded room’, ‘cozy jacket’, and ‘solitary confinement’ mean anything to you?”

“... Institutions don’t do sol-.”

“That’s what they want you to think. Anyways, half of the therapists I ever had quit because of me.”

“What about the other half?”

“Ended up in the same looney bin.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Your friend turned crazy as soon as we met.”

“Stanford is not crazy.”

“Can you say that with a straight face?”

“He’s eccentric.”

“Wait, he's gay? I thought he wasn’t anything.”

“That isn’t what eccentric means. And- back to topic, please. What if myself or Stanford were there with you and we didn’t leave you alone with the therapist? Would you agree then?”

“...Alright, if you really think it’ll help.”

“Excellent! Thank you, Stan; we’ll get you right as rain before you know it.”

“...Did we really need to talk about this in the afterglow?”

“Yeah we did.”

(...)

“You guys are on your own, I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Stanley, it is just a boat.”

“So was the Titanic, and it disappeared forever.”

“There have been talks about another expedition to find it.”

“Fiddleford, please. Stanley, this isn’t the ocean, this is a mere lake. Scuttlebutt Island is only accessible by boat.”

“I told you I’d help you on your monster hunting bullshit, but you didn’t mention we’d have to get on the water to do it.”

“Come on, at least get closer than the tree line.”

“No!”

“You are being ridiculous right now. You have faced drug lords, Mothman, loan sharks, and the actual Jersey Devil, and this is where you draw the-.”

“I wouldn’t make you do something if you didn’t want to, PhD.”

“...Fine. Stay here and watch over our campsite at least. If we’re not back by tonight-.”

“Yeah, yeah start arranging your funerals, got it.”

(...)

“What are your theories so far on this cryptid, Stanford?”

“Based on descriptions I’ve gathered from local reports, and limited sonar exploration, I believe the description most closely matches a marine reptile that disappeared in the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event; a plesiosaur. Or, at the very least, a distant descendant.”

“Sounds less like cryptozoology and more like paleontology. Maybe we should call it something else.”

“Such as?”

“How about Oddopoddo?”

“No.”

“Scuttlebdis?”

“A mouthful, really.”

“The Gobblewonker.”

“We’ll workshop it.”

“Well kettle my corn, it looks like we’re close to the shore; sure are a lot of big muskrats here.”

“Fiddleford, we both know those are beavers and not nutria.”

“Wait- Stanford, stop. Is that big rock formation over there… moving?”

(...)

“Heya Fordsy! You’re invoking Think Fast?”

“Think Fast?”

“You know, when you meditate into the Dreamscape so you can think faster than the time around you. What you’re doing right now.”

“You’ve never called it that before, my muse.”

“I know but for exposition purposes I need to call it something. Whattaya need to Think Fast for?”

“The cryptid we’ve termed “The Gobblewonker” chased us on our boat and trapped us in the islands cove. In an attempt to catch us, the creature slammed itself into the cave wall and triggered a rock slide. We’re trapped in a cavern and it is filling up with water, and the entrance was the only exit we knew of. Fiddleford is also unconscious, and cannot assist me.”

“Ooh, how dangerous. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I need to be out-of-body while my perception is sped up so I can check for more exits without worrying about water or gravity. 

“Out-of-body experience coming right up, IQ!”

(...)

‘Man, those guys have been gone for a while. They shoulda been back at least an hour ago.’

‘Whatever, PhD’s the monster hunter here, whatever trouble they get into he can probably handle it.’

‘...’

‘And even if he couldn’t, it’s not my problem. I’m only staying with him so I have a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head. It’s not like I actually care.’

‘He did kidnap me and stick me in his basement after all. And sure his friend is hot and gives great benefits, but it's not like he tried to free me even when he knew it was wrong.’

‘...’

‘So what if they might be in danger? It doesn't bother me.’  

‘It doesn't bother me.’

‘It bothers me!’

‘IT BOTHERS ME A LOT!’

(...)

“Fiddleford! Fiddleford, wake up!”

“Ow… my achin’ noggin-. Wha happened?”

“You saw the cryptid and fainted.”

“Where are we? Why’re we all wet?”

“We are trapped in a cavern that the Gobblewonker chased us into. There’s only one exit left - there’s a tunnel through and up this ridge, but it tapers off from loose rocks from a rockslide. You might be thin and flexible enough to squeeze through the hole that remains.”

“What about you?”

“On the other side I’d need you to manually move enough of these rocks so I can slide through as well. We can’t waste any time - the cavern is filling up with water faster than the exit could drain it.”

“Okay, I’ll get through slicker than owl sh-.”

“Fiddleford, this is no time for Southernisms.’

“Right, right. Yeeow, that’s smarts- I got most of both shoulders through Stanford but I’m gonna need a boost.”

“Alright, I‘ll push you on your count of three.”

“Gotcha. One, two, thre-! SWEET BABY JESUS-!”

“Are you okay?”

“I-. I think I w-wrenched out my damn shoulder…”

“Can you relocate it?”

“L-lemme try- HRK! No, not by myself. I’ll try to clear out the rubble with my good arm.”

“Alright but please, with the best of your ability, be quick.”

“Just keep talking to me, friend, I need to know that you’re still breathing back there.”

“It is not getting easier.”

“I’m moving, I’m moving. Just stay with me. We can do this.”

“I’m running out of headspace…”

“Come on- just a few more more rocks to go, I- Stanford? Stanford!”

“Sixer, I’m going to put your body in hibernation, it’s the only way you can preserve oxygen. It’s not cold enough for you to go into that state naturally.”

‘How much time does that buy me, Cipher?’

“About five more lines.”

‘Lines of what?’

“You’re about to find out.”

*water suddenly starts rushing out much faster, and a hand grabs Ford by the collar, dragging him out of the tunnel forcefully*

“-ay? Can you hear me, Stanford?”

“S… Stanley..?”

“Oh good, you came to on your own. I wasn’t gonna ‘kiss of life’ you.”

“Lord have mercy, you gave us a real fright there! You’re still shaking like a leaf on a tree, though.”

“Can you stand, Doc?”

“Y-yes, yes of course. Just- just help me up, please.”

“Yeah yeah, I gotcha.”

“It’s a good thing you came when you did, Stan, I wasn’t getting those rocks cleared fast enough.”

“What’s up with your arm, specs?”

“I dislocated my shoulder going through the tunnel.”

“Need help putting that back? It’s happened to me a couple times.”

“Actually, I think I’d rather- Stan?! Stan no-!”

POP

“There you go, good as new.”

“Ow…”

“Stanley?”

“What’s up?”

“Why’d you come here?”

“You guys were taking too long, figured something was up.”

“But… we are on an island, how did you get here?”

“Details ain’t important.”

“You’re also soaking wet.”

“Shut up, PhD. I said details ain’t important.”

To be continued…

[fairene]

beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you sure? i can take–”

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

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

right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then he was gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you thought you were going to kiss. 

and so did he. 

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

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

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

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

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

he smiled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 

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

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

“really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gonna jump out on me?” 

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

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

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 

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

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

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

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

“between us, then?” 

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

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

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

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

“he say anything to you?” 

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what?” 

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

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

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

you swallowed. nodded your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice. 

it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all. 

when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow. 

“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard. 

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 

there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?” 

your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?” 

lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair. 

“guess so.”

the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him. 

you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 

lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he? 

you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free. 

you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things. 

he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he. 

it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 

“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for. 

he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut. 

it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer. 

you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 

he did. 

there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 

lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 

“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”

that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 

you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 

the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 

“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 

“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 

you were shameless when you nodded your head. 

“so embarrassing, i know–” 

“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 

“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 

“what do you feel for me now?” 

you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 

there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 

you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 

he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 

lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“some dreams just remain dreams.” 

he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 

“do you want to dream forever?” 

no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 

you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 

his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 

“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 

he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 

you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat. 

his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years. 

he lied when he said he didn’t notice you. 

he lied. 

lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando. 

‘course he fucking noticed. 

he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore–  black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight. 

your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.

“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress. 

your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own. 

“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress. 

“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.” 

lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?” 

your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs. 

“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…” 

your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock. 

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 

lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice. 

“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.” 

“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream. 

the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin. 

you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.” 

you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck. 

the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body. 

your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body. 

the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.

“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice. 

“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come. 

“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you. 

but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair. 

with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?” 

you shook your head. “no– no!” 

you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping. 

“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself. 

his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat. 

lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again. 

you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips. 

“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you. 

“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.” 

you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.

the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again. 

“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.” 

it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like. 

your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret. 

you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand. 

lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling. 

and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes. 

his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you. 

within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone. 

lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep. 

you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn’t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister. 

lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself. 

he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace. 

you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart. 

he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is. 

his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed. 

“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly. 

your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong? 

“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words. 

he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.

“you don’t want me?” 

his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart. 

he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.” 

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped. 

he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs. 

your name was sweet on his tongue. 

“what would your brother say–?” 

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 

lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck. 

“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin. 

“how much?” 

lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in. 

“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress. 

“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions. 

“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.” 

you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace. 

“the one with the bows?” 

“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him. 

there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility. 

you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently. 

you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.” 

that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move. 

“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense. 

he swallowed. shook his head.

“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck. 

he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same. 

lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone. 

yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life. 

that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning. 

the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist. 

the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.

‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’ 

fuck that. 

you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you. 

“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim. 

“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately. 

“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?” 

you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.” 

you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.

“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?” 

lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction. 

“slept great.” 

you scoffed. 

max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks. 

“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?” 

max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage. 

you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning. 

the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that. 

when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something. 

“you–”

“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment? 

max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense. 

“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?” 

lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate. 

he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?” 

you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste. 

max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?” 

you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.” 

max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek. 

“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving. 

“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant. 

“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.” 

he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left. 

“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat. 

but you stood your ground. “positive.” 

lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold. 

he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane. 

so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool. 

most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack. 

in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime. 

the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one. 

it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head. 

it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over. 

lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless. 

with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw. 

“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water. 

you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.

lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands. 

he simply stared at you. and you stared at him. 

then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin. 

the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste. 

“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.” 

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out. 

with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool. 

you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max. 

when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention. 

“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap. 

“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning. 

“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling. 

“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at. 

“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted. 

“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest. 

lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show. 

“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.” 

“asshole.” max mirrored you. 

“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

though you did. 

you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through. 

“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word. 

max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.

“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could. 

lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you. 

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?” 

lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall. 

you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”

lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?” 

you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him. 

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions. 

“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.” 

but you dared to disagree. 

“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?” 

he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure. 

“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge. 

“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 

“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist. 

“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone. 

“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength. 

“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone. 

“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock. 

“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go. 

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 

you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex. 

you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair. 

a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power. 

a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger. 

but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner. 

you had come up with the idea for dinner. 

fish. as everyone enjoyed. 

you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself. 

you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious. 

and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.

“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.

“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.” 

they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer. 

you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind. 

it was an afterthought  for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot. 

you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines. 

lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.

“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for. 

“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?” 

you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.” 

“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker. 

you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice. 

he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove. 

it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days. 

but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged. 

it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips. 

you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.

though it was much easier said than done. 

his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table. 

you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck. 

attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap. 

your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit. 

you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone. 

your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table. 

with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here. 

you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind. 

but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit. 

it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings. 

you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word. 

“dessert, anyone?” 

there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen. 

it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go. 

but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…

lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.

you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you. 

he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you? 

you were. 

when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends. 

they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours. 

lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.

but your skillfulness was not. 

the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself. 

“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward. 

“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger. 

he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered. 

you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you. 

little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall. 

until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted. 

and maybe you did. 

you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races. 

was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand? 

the answer was undoubtedly yes. 

you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it? 

the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick. 

conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time? 

“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all. 

he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean. 

lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought. 

when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table. 

your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most. 

tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in. 

his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–

ah

ah

when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.

he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own. 

“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.” 

you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises. 

then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine. 

“being a fucking tease…” 

“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity. 

lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”

you were.

your face flushed. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction. 

“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”

you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust. 

with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?” 

“no.” 

“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.

but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”

your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were. 

his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth. 

but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?

“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly. 

a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you. 

“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?” 

you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.

his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you. 

he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat. 

you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more. 

“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan. 

“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.” 

it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure. 

“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.

before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes. 

he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle. 

you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat. 

“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam. 

“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him. 

he snickered. “guess so.” 

you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue. 

“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”

“let me–” 

you shushed him. 

“on the house.” 

you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes. 

you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad. 

in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?

you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home. 

glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee. 

into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms. 

lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call. 

at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds. 

a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds. 

you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night. 

it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air. 

lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him. 

a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is. 

lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching. 

and spellcasted he was. 

with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper. 

he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice. 

you were. 

you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed. 

lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper. 

“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.

lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile. 

you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust. 

the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic. 

when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you. 

good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right. 

you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother. 

some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf. 

“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him. 

“he’s a good guy.”  

lando was sitting up now. listening. 

“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.” 

your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter. 

“and…what did you say?” 

max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them. 

“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.” 

it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you. 

your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it. 

“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity. 

you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping. 

chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers. 

“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat. 

“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.” 

you edged further into the water until your knees were covered. 

“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you? 

“really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?” 

you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons. 

you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical. 

“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side. 

“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?” 

you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age. 

and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs. 

he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes. 

arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired. 

“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.

“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.

“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.” 

and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile. 

shit. 

shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night. 

when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top. 

“just you and me, yeah?”

you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time. 

“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?” 

he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris. 

your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had. 

lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good. 

he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek. 

“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 

you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of. 

“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful. 

“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa. 

“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”

lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone. 

“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?” 

whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could. 

he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.” 

and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you. 

you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat. 

he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.

his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you. 

he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—” 

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.” 

you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too. 

his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.

“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan. 

“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum. 

“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?” 

you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness. 

“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.” 

you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him. 

with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away. 

your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.

“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed. 

“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—” 

“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.” 

“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way? 

finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt. 

your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom. 

with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry. 

his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect. 

“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for. 

lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling. 

he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear. 

“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.” 

he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder. 

he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend. 

you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh. 

“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail. 

lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed. 

“am i?” 

one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean. 

“think you like it, love.” 

you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter. 

his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered. 

“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?” 

“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder. 

it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit. 

he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine. 

lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with. 

“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.” 

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 

he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.

both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table. 

his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it. 

feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him. 

“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?” 

your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words. 

“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through. 

he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to. 

the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other. 

his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end. 

“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

lando hummed. 

“about us.” 

you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for. 

he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship. 

it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for. 

and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms. 

lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.

sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat. 

but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.

“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side. 

“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.

“motherfucker.”

tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: fem!reader. mentions of crime and arms. spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.

Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.

That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.

You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.

Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.

You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.

“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”

“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.

“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.

“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”

Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.

“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.

“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.

“No.”

He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.

“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”

“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.

He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.

“You're giving me that look.”

You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.

“What look?"

“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”

The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.

“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”

You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.

But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.

“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”

Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.

“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.

“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”

You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?

“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”

Oh, he hadn't noticed.

Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.

“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.

Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”

A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.

“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.

“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.

“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”

“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.

Spencer really thought you were pretty.

It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.

Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.

[gguk-n]

The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why do you need that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your kart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sigh while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

[maelancoli]

Adding Tension After the Ship Happens

i feel a lot of slow burn ships lose steam after the characters finally get together, whether it's just from sleeping together or them actually engaging in a relationship, so here are some ideas for how to maintain steam.

their problems are not solved now that they've crossed the thresh hold

first things first, the plot itself i'm sure has other details than just their relationship. even the most fluffy of fluff has other things going on than kisses and giggles. don't abandon these details once the relationship truly begins. and if there was any kind of unresolved tension point or previously mentioned ex/trauma/insecurity/fear bring it back! bring things back around that might put a strain on a new, tender relationship. this can either make them have problems or be a way to develop their bonds and *show* it in action. any of these foreshadowing/resurrected points can be added in edits if you didn't start out with them or with retconning if you're writing rp/fanfic. all the writers do it. we see it in tv everyday it's ok if u gotta pull a rabbit from a hat.

their relationship will not be suddenly smooth and solid as if they have been married 20 years

okay they kissed/fucked/agreed to be together. now what? what circumstances kept them from getting there sooner? are those circumstances still present and how will they deal with it as a team? you also don't have to have characters officially together once they've done something physical. there is still discussion to be had and boundaries/expectations to establish. those conversations could be interesting to explore. and, even more-so, this is the perfect point for plot to happen and keep them from being able to have those conversations when they should. you can add angst, you can add miscommunication, you can add anything that tickles your fancy. especially a perfect time to have an ex return to cause some tension and uncertainty if they haven't made it official. they don't know what they are yet and that uncertainty is a delicious point to write it and really give the characters a hard time

utilize the main plot's tension

again, if you're writing more than just a contemporary fluffy romance, the romance should enrich the main plot. the romance as a subplot should be a component which merges with the main storyline and does not take away from it. if you don't want to milk the will-they-won't-they anymore than you already have it's time to build the relationship up in the midst of OUTSIDE conflict. let them disagree about how to resolve problems. let them butt heads. let them be scared and do and say stupid shit because they're scared. let them be worried or angry or frustrated and have to figure out how to balance their newfound vulnerability with who they are and were before that point. let them hurt each other a little so they can come back together stronger.

utilize the characters around them

if it is a plot which is mainly romance filled, then think about the tension from the lives around them. think about their loved ones and how their own issues could influence the plot points the characters have to face together. this could be a time for them to be introduced to loved ones. you could throw in a group trip with silly mishaps and shenanigans. you could even have loved ones try to break them up or doubt the love interest. navigating new relationships while also dealing with friends and family can be a source of plot and tension in and of itself. this can be a point to let love interests reassure each other and prove their salt. it can help them grow closer. it can be the heroic moment for one of them to stick up for the other or prove they're there for them no matter what.

overall if you're struggling with what to do after the slow burn feels like it's sizzling out it's time to zoom out. make sure you are not losing the whole picture of their environment or steamrolling past the real development of new relationships.

[ave661]

Post about art-theft, AI and tracing of my render:

Unfortunately, one of my renders I made a year ago, was traced, copied, edited by AI by "brothers in arms" store and now sold as a merch aimed towards CoD fandom. They are currently sending this out to various cosplayers asking them to promote it.

As someone who is affected by this, I have to speak up about it.

(post about it on twt & insta)

I found out about it by accident when I saw promoted post on my insta feed. When I started talking about it in my stories, this store sent me a private message saying they had been working on this design for weeks and had never heard of me so they definitely didn't steal anything, and offered me free stuff. When I disagreed with them and sent them files comparing our works, they stopped replying to me, so I continued talking about it again on my insta. Only when my followers started leaving comments under their post saying this is wrong, they decided to continue discussion on the next day.

2. They mentioned that they could have been inspired by some pictures they found on the internet and showed me their "first sketch" of design… which was made by AI.

3. During the conversation, they mentioned that their artist could have based his work on a picture he found on the Internet, but he defended himself by saying that they might not have known it was mine. But even if they didn't know about me, even if they found some fanart on the Internet - it doesn't mean you can copy something detail by detail and sell it as your own. What is most important here, their offer to solve the problem was to give me credits in their design. IF they worked hard on it, why would they want to give me credits? My offer was to remove it.

4. Why do I mention that it could have been done by AI? because many lines are unfinished and a lot of details don't make sense.

5. Below is a comparison of my render that I published on March 18, 2023 with their first sketch they showed me, which apparently they drew themselves:

I am saying this so that the CoD community, which is very large, will be aware of this, because there are many people who have already bought it and after my insta story, they felt bad and said they want return it because they don't want to support art theft.

It's not just about me anymore - it could have happened to anyone who creates fanart and share it on the Internet just for fun. One day someone may use it for their own profit without us being aware of it. It doesn't matter if it's a 3D render or a drawing. All artists in this (or any other) fandom do not deserve to experience such thing, and we need to speak out about it to prevent it from happening in the future.

Reposting fanart is, as this example shows, dangerous and hurtful, so please respect artists and don’t do this. Especially on pinterest.

Their only proposal and offer to give me credits for the work they traced is something I will never agree to.

[makeupbychio]

THE suit // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Now that you are officially part of the x-men team you need a suit. After the help from Hank and Charles to make the suit you kept the final result as a secret to Logan until he saw you in your first mission in THE suit. More than one time you needed more than one suit, not just because Logan will rip off a lot of them, but for other reasons. 

Warnings: Jealous Logan and being a little bit of a brat, Hank and Charles cameo, insecurity towards your body and powers, use of your powers (ecokinesis), Logan being the best protective and comforting boyfriend, mentions of smut, suggestive language, mentions of pregnancy.

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: So thanks for the anon for the request!! Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language. I put angst, fluff and mentions of smut so I hope you like this. Also, reminder that this is a safe place for all body sizes so that's why I don’t mention specifics measurements for the suit. ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them days after you are officially an x-men. Enjoy, love y’all!! <3. 

italics = past. 

— — —

“Hold on, wait. Hank is going to do your suit?” Logan stopped the conversation. You two at the cafeteria grabbing a late night snack. You took the pause to give a bite to your apple. 

“What about it? The Professor told me Hank did all of them” you answered him without any worry in your mind and didn't  understand why he had that frowning look on his face.

”I think Storm should be in charge since your powers are related to nature too”. Logan suggested, trying not to be an asshole. You understand where this was going when he sighed. 

“But Lo, the Professor designed the suits, Hank is just going to sew it and for that he needs to take the correct measurements” you refreshed Logan’s mind, like if it wasn’t obvious that a suit was not going to sew it itself. 

So after that Logan just stopped insisting about it. He trusted Hank of course but something was itching his brain. If he knew you already had an appointment with Hank last week to take the first measurement and the Professor explaining to you how he designed it for you and your powers. 

“So, Y/N. If you didn’t know, Hank came up with the idea to make the suits bulletproof and for your powers we needed to incorporate more resistance to heat changes in case your whole body is on fire or ice. So we needed to play with all of the opposite and different scenarios of the element you were going to manipulate or become, please try it on”. Charles explained to you the work behind your suit. You just nodded, but the Professor can read your mind and know your excitement when you ran to change your clothes and came back with the suit on.

“So you can basically turn into stone one moment and then disappear like air, so we create something that can resist that range of changes, and also of course something to be comfortable for you”. Hank added, proud of the technology he put in the suit while you looked at yourself in the mirror. “You can try it and test what I’m talking about”. 

So you did it, always careful not to hurt them. They were so happy with the final results and you couldn’t thank them enough and can’t wait any longer to wear it. 

“See you next week, Y/N”. The Professor reminded you about the final meeting to correct some details. 

So after that late snack, you both went to bed and before your appointment with Hank, Logan just stopped by his office and greeted him with a casual smile. 

“Logan, how can I help you? Y/N is not here” Hank thought he was there to be with you once you tried on your suit. 

“Don’t worry, she’s still in bed sleeping in our room” Logan gave a cocky smile and highlighted the ‘our’. “Actually I’m here to help YOU. In case you needed help with her suit, just to let you know that I made you a list of her measurements” Logan handed him a piece of paper with the different sizes of the clothes you have. He really thought that was going to work. “You’re welcome, so you don’t have to take the measurements yourself” He smiles proud of himself. 

Hank laughed and didn’t want to ruin Logan’s intention. He just thanked him, if Logan knew the suit was ready in the lab for you to try it and make the last changes. 

“Oh! I almost forgot” Logan turned to Hank before leaving his office. “She’s the smartest person I know, don’t get offended so I’m pretty sure she’s going to give you some ideas for the suit” he made a pause imagining you giving instructions to Hank. “And her favorite color is purple” Logan finally leaves the room without letting Hank answer. Heading himself to the dining room proud of his work. 

Hours later, you went directly to the lab where Hank and the Professor told you to meet. “Okay Y/N so tell us how you feel it, if you want to change something” Hank looked at you looking in the mirror. 

It was really comfortable even when it was really tight to your body. You felt so much confidence, you saw the x mark on it, that wasn’t on the suit the last meeting you had. Also it made justice to your figure and your beautiful curves. 

“Thanks again, it fits perfectly. But Hank I just wanted to ask you if it’s possible if you could add something to the suit…” Hank is paying attention to you. “If there could be like- I don’t know- something for you guys to know which element I’m manipulating or about to, so you don’t get yourself hurt out there during a mission” you asked him nervously because they are the experts.

”Mmmhh, it’s a really good idea but the enemy can use that information too against us to advance an attack” Hank really liked the idea but they had a surprise for you. 

“So dear, we also wanted for you to try this suit too” the Professor went to reach the suit he was talking about. Hiding it inside a box that was wrapped like a gift. 

“Guys, what is this?” you were in total awe when you opened the box. They know how easily you get emotional. Tears are already forming in your eyes. 

“We wanted for you to have your own suit, something that will be just for YOU…” Hank started explaining. “All of us have something that characterizes ourselves and our powers, so someone told us your favorite color is purple and it contrasts perfectly the green that represents your powers…” Hanks kept talking because you went speechless. “I know it sounds cliché to add green for your ecokinesis, if you don’t like it we can change it” he suggested.

You just ran to hug them because it was perfect. “So for your ideas you gave us, we design this…” the Professor handed you another box, but this time smaller. You opened it so fast. “We created these gloves for the changes of elements. So you can use it in the field or on a daily basis” you tried on them immediately and it blew your mind the technology it has, how it’s connected to you to change the colors related to the element, it sparkles so that makes them AMAZING.

“The gloves are more for the missions, because with the suit you hold your powers in case you are not conscious. Also the gloves help you to give your attack a precise target. We’ll learn more about both items while training” Hank explained. 

So when you first wore the x-men suit, you were so nervous about the mission, about everything so you changed clothes in your room. Thinking if this was a good idea. Literally everyone was waiting for you to step into the plane. 

“I’m going” Storm was about to go and search for you when you stepped into the ship. “There you are! K’ let’s go” Storm yelled at Scott to go.

Logan almost fainted, his claws making an appearance without previous warning. He quickly put them back, he was so excited he couldn’t resist to stay close to you. His flirting helped you to stop your nerves. “Sugar, you look amazing…” he gave you a kiss on your check, sitting next to you on the ship. He came closer to your face, whispering “I hope they made like a hundred suits because as soon as we're back in the mansion I’m going to rip it off. God, I can’t wait” You tried to hide the redness of your face, you warned him to behave. 

“Logan, I’m pretty sure the Professor can read your mind, I don’t want to be kicked out of the missions. Or give us separated missions. Do you want me to be paired with Scott instead?” you asked him with a teasing smile. 

“I’m sorry, love. But did you see yourself in the mirror before coming?” Logan really insisted but not too much. “Don’t worry, you’re going to kick asses today and I’ll protect you till the end of times” 

Like I said before, Logan after that would take any opportunity to join you for fittings. Especially if something is different. Logan would be there next to you when you are not comfortable with your body. If you are not comfortable with your powers every time you discover something new about them. After years, he will always be there for you, sitting in front of you looking at you with awe and comforting you even when you’re were not feeling it. 

The only time you skipped a mission was when your suit was not crossing your figure. You tried on your x-men suit and your own suit they made you and it was not stretching enough. The team was on a rush so they let you stay at the mansion. 

Logan asked you when they were back about what happened and you just told him you were feeling under the weather. The Professor already knew the real reason. You distracted Logan enough for you to go to Hank's office. 

“Hi, Hank. Can I ask you something?” you stepped into the room worried. Hank welcomed you worried about your absence in the last mission. “I had a problem with the suit, actually both suits. Is it possible for the fabric to be even more stretchable?” you asked him. 

Next day, after telling Logan the truth about you expecting and how suddenly a big bump you had appeared. That time he almost fainted too. So both of you were in the lab, the Professor and Hank giving you the congratulations when Hank was taking notes of your new measurements for your suits.

“Be careful there, big boy” Logan growled at Hank when he put the measuring tape around your belly. Logan was so protective over you and now your baby. You laughed at him telling not to worry, Logan looking at you with charming eyes while you rub your belly looking at yourself in the mirror. So this was really happening, starting a family.

Hank explained to you your new suits, which were going to be more comfortable for you considering the bump was going to grow even more. But the only thing Logan could think about is to protect you even more out there in the field. 

“Lo, look at me. I can do this” you hold his face when back in the room he told you to reject some missions that were too dangerous just to be cautious. He was scared that if you got injured really bad in your state. He was not going to stop you from going to the missions, because he knows you are one of the strongest and with a single snap you can beat your enemy but he can’t help himself from worrying. “And if I’m not feeling good or at my best to fight I’ll stay here”. you kissed him to calm him down. 

“I know, mama. You are the baddest out there. They could never beat you even if they tried” Logan kissed you back and kneeled to kiss your belly. “I wonder which powers our baby is going to inherit”. Next time Logan went to Hank’s office was to ask for a tiny x-men suit to surprise you. Hank couldn’t say no to Logan because he found a really cute gesture from him even when he had a lot of work left to do. 

[reiderwriter]

✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️

About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac

Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!

Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.

Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!

Writing:

Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K

Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink

Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.

Warnings: So many, check the post for details.

More Than Words 🫶 // 8k

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k

Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.

Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.

Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k

Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.

Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.

Spencer Reid x Reader SFW

The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Just Hanging Out // 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k

Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.

Series

That's What You Get // complete 💕

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.

Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.

Playlist: Me and You in 2024

Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!

Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡

Answered Requests

(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k

(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words

(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words

(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k

(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k

(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k

(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k

(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k

(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k

(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k

(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼‍♀️// 1.8k

(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️‍🔥// 1.6k

(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k

(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ���️‍🩹// 5k

(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k

(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k

(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵‍♂️// 3.6k

(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k

(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k

(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k

(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k

(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽‍♀️// 2.1k

(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k

(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k

[taintedcigs]

— even if it’s handcuffed i’m leaving here with you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: steve asks eddie for his handcuffs to spice up things in the bedroom with you, and once things go wrong, the two of you turn to eddie for help… in more ways than one. (wc: 3.1k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut smut smut, or*l (f!receiving), handcuffs duh, lots of praises, dom!eddie, steve kinda subby but also soft!dom? the dynamics are mixed LMAO, pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, slut), mmf, three way kissing idk

authors note: so this is what happens when a girl mixes her three hyperfixations; 9-1-1, steddie and CHALLENGERS. i wrote this v long ago it is a bit shitty and not proof-read SO IGNORE ALL MISTAKES THANK U. (also this is sm more meaningful to me now bc i got this song as my surprise song like i accidentally manifested this WAIT.)

and please, if you wanna support me; reblog + like + comment ILY!!

Steve is embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he has to ask Eddie for this. For handcuffs to use that he has no idea what the fuck to do with.

And of course Eddie finds it all amusing, a smirk plastered on his face while he teases Steve, rosy-cheeks turning pinker.

And normally, it would've pissed him off, Eddie's teasing, his flirty comments towards you, towards him.

But for some reason, it doesn't.

The three of you have this dynamic that he can't quite put his hand on, it's different, exciting, new, it intrigues him, more than anything.

You and Steve had just started dating, a couple months in, the honeymoon phase and all, and of course, Eddie had been there for it all.

The first moment you caught Steve's eye, you caught Eddie's too, the dynamic settled in then with Steve charming you right away, while Eddie's flirty antics didn't go unnoticed by you.

Yet, somehow, someway, it snowballed into you dating Steve. But it didn't end there. The three of you hung out often.

Very often.

So much so that you had regular movie nights, always ending up high out of your minds with Eddie’s shitty weed, talking each other's ears off 'till the sun came up.

You knew everything about his life, his shitty band gigs (the one Steve dragged you to, and surprisingly his music didn't suck), his uncle, his girlfriends. Or the lack thereof.

Eddie always mentioned how he just hadn't found the right one yet, just a bunch of meaningless sex.

And he made sure to always come to the both of you afterwards, telling everything, in great fucking detail too. 

Maybe it was weird for anyone else. But for the three of you, it was your normal. 

Especially for you, because you enjoyed them. Enjoyed his stories as they made you squirm in your seat. Reactions not going unnoticed by Steve.

And it's what led to Steve wanting to spice things up in the bedroom with you. He knew the sex was great. He was obsessed with you, and you were with him.

But, fuck, there was something missing. Something he couldn't pin point exactly. And he was willing to try out anything, especially when he remembered how much you reacted to one of Eddie's stories with the handcuffs, later mentioning to him that you really liked the idea.

The idea of losing control, giving yourself fully to another partner, and Steve's knees almost gave out right then and there.

He didn't know where the fuck to obtain handcuffs, hence why he immediately ended up at Eddie's door, enduring his endless teasing, sort of hoping that he'd offer to help.

An idea that crossed his mind, but one that he'd never verbalize, unless, you mentioned it too.

The second he showed you the handcuffs you squealed in excitement, putting on your best lingerie, making a show out of everything before the two of you didn't hesitate to jump on each other. His clothes scattered in the room, you in your lingerie, hungry for each other.

His mouth lingered, scent so intoxicating that you could feel your thighs dampen, lips all over your skin and hands squeezing whatever he could grab onto, both of you feral.

“Y'know I didn't wanna have to do this,” he murmurs into your lips, bringing the cuffs in your view, playing into it, enjoying the giggles you give him in return. 

“Please, sir, promise I'll be good,” you pout with those doe eyes, making Steve almost cave in, cock stirring against his tight boxers, begging to be attended to. 

He gives a rough grunt before pining your hands above your head “That’s my girl.” 

“But you still have to be punished,” he hisses quietly, putting his weight on top of you, the cold metal off the first cuff making you shiver, he tightens it as soon as he locks it, making sure your other wrist is free, for now. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya, doll.” His hums make you whine loudly.

“For now.” You can feel his smirk widening when his lips attack yours again, hungry, as his bulge presses against your inner thighs, his hand holding your cuffed one in place, making you mewl desperately, kisses traveling down your chest. 

And of course, you use his distraction to your advantage, quickly grabbing onto his free hand, the second cuff clicking onto its place before he can even attempt to protest. 

“I guess we’re even now, pretty boy,” you tease with a sultry voice, but Steve’s head pops up to meet your doe eyed gaze with a panic. 

“Did you just handcuff us both to the bed?” He asks, shear dread overtaking his face, making you furrow your brows. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s the whole point,” you giggled, attempting to kiss him again but he pulled away. “Fuck,” he groaned, making you roll your eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, I know you have a thing for women being in control.” 

True, and it would’ve turned him on, almost made him bust out right then and there, if the context was any different, but instead he could just groan in panic. “Oh, sweetheart, I do, but fuck-”

“What?” You ask, face puzzled.

“The keys are in my pockets,” he murmurs, gaze trailing near the dresser. 

Your eyes follow his, the jeans you threw in a hurry were placed upon the dresser, far away from the two of you, and there was no physical way to reach for them. 

Both of you, cuffed to the bed, and no one there to save you.

“Oh, shit.” 

-

The two of you tried every possible position to get out, but there was no fucking luck, and that’s when you finally settled on calling someone for help. 

It was obvious the only person you could call for help was Eddie, but you knew his teasing would be relentless, curls bouncing each time a laughter rumbled from his stomach, making you huff out immaturely. 

“Seriously, Eddie, this isn’t funny!” Steve chided, a bit playfully considering he knew how stupid the two of you must’ve looked, and it just made Eddie chuckle louder and louder. 

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my week!” 

“C’mon, Eds, just help us.” Your soft tone caught his attention quickly, his smirk disappearing just as fast before he approached the two of you closer, now able to get a much better look at the two of you. 

“Oh, Harrington, what did you even do?” He rambled, trying to ignore that feeling he always got, but this time much stronger, you in your lingerie, and Steve’s obvious bulge that made Eddie gulp physically. Shit.  

“I totally should’ve offered to teach you both.” He didn’t even know where the fuck that came from. Word vomit.  

“Why didn’t you?” Curiosity got the best of you, and you didn’t even realize the implications of your words, until the two boys snapped their heads in your direction, like you’ve blurted out the most scandalous shit ever. 

“I- uh- what?” Eddie stammered, eyeing Steve carefully, not knowing if this was a joke. Or if both of you actually meant it.

He never thought it was possible. This. The three of you. Sure the dynamic between all of you had been tethering on something more. But never straight forward like this. 

It surprised both of you when Steve spoke up, lips twitching into a smirk. “Why didn’t you offer to teach us?” The two of you finished each other’s sentences, it almost looked intentional, as if the two of you have planned this, like the two of you ever talked about this. 

You didn’t, it was just natural. Something you both had been too ashamed to admit. 

Something even Eddie couldn’t admit to himself, other than a few jokes, and some drunken confessions here and there, but nothing like this.

All he ever wanted.

Eddie’s usual confidence was wavering, and it was amusing to see, exciting. Something you’d love to explore. Make him beg. God, you knew he’d sound pretty as fuck when he whined. 

“W-would you guys want that?” Stammering, again, yet you can’t get too cocky, because you know once Eddie fully wraps his head around what the fuck is happening, he’ll lean back into that domineering side. After the countless stories the two of you  have heard, it intrigues you both. So you and Steve unanimously help him to get there. 

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t offer it, Munson,” you encouraged, watching the way his eyes oggle both of you, curious, ecstatic, that dirty mind conjuring something.

“So… you’re both sure about this?” 

“Sure that I want to be fucked by both of you? I think so, Munson.” You roll your eyes, so bored of the fact that you’ve been handcuffed for the past twenty minutes with no action, and because you knew it’d rile Eddie up. You’ve seen the flare in his gaze before, jaw locking in each time you rolled your eyes at him. 

And it works, like a switch, you see the dominance bubbling up on his face.

“Feisty that one, isn’t she, Stevie?”

“Mmhm, the dirtiest mouth,” Steve adds, soft hands squishing your cheeks with a smirk, insides feeling gooey with the way they both eye you. 

He tssked, “Haven’t you taught her some manners?” You whined slightly at that comment, they both knew what you wanted, what you desired, your boundaries… everything. 

A dynamic that’s been brewing for months… finally exploding into reality, and of fucking course you couldn’t hide your excitement, making Eddie grin. 

He’s quick to uncuff Steve, a groan leaving his lips at the relief from the cold metal against his skin, making Eddie’s cock stir at the sound. His two play things. And he’s going to have so much fun. 

“Wanna help me teach her some manners, pretty boy?” Steve didn’t even answer, holding you down and spreading your thighs while Eddie grabbed your other hand, cuffing you properly this time, tightening it and relishing in your pathetic mewls. 

Biting the inside of your thighs, Steve didn’t hesitate to tease you, spreading your pussy lips open to show it to Eddie, both of them grinning hungrily, “look how pretty she looks, Eds.” 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Eddie hummed, admiring, groaning with a deep sigh. 

All he fucking dreamed about. 

Glistening with your arousal, inviting him in, and those goddamn sultry eyes were driving him insane, making him blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining, both of you looking at him like you wanted to eat him up. 

A kind of attention he wasn’t used to, but it got him more and more riled up, confident, trailing his fingers by your inner thighs, the sensation of Steve’s lips brushing against your thighs while Eddie’s fingertips softly teased at your skin was something straight out of a dream. 

Eddie looked at Steve, a subtle need to get his permission to press his lips to you.

So new… boundaries blurred and unknown, and Steve was quick to nod, hungrily watching the two of you, cock straining so hard against his boxers that he was aching.

Desperate. 

Eddie was more or less the same, especially when you initiated the kiss, the softness of your lips brushing against his, making him whine pathetically. 

It didn’t take long for him to take control again, the dynamic between the three of you changing ever so quickly, Steve still ghosting inside of your thighs, stomach, chest, legs, everywhere.

And shit… Eddie was a good kisser. 

His lips were demanding, soft but somehow still teasing, attentive. His tongue didn’t meet much resistance as it danced against yours, smooth, on beat, the type that made flutters appear in your stomach, all the while Steve’s touches making your thighs dampen. 

Too much. But in the best way possible. 

If your hands weren’t tied up, it would’ve been surfing through their soft hair, demanding more attention, making you grew more and more frustrated, a smirk sitting on both of their lips at your pathetic moans. 

A light scruff of Eddie’s beard scratched against your cheeks before he broke the kiss, “Steve,” he hummed, gaining his attention, head popping up all ecstatic, “C’mere.” 

Both of them stick to your side, weight of the bed shifting as the gazes exchanged almost burned each other through the core. Full of longing, desire, and hunger.  

Eddie angled your face toward Steve, “Kiss her,” he demanded.

A demand that didn’t take Steve a second longer to obey, thick fingers brushing against your face as his big hands cupped your heated cheeks, with your lips parted slightly he didn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth, possessing you fully, completely, an uncontrollable whine slipping past your lips. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “you guys are so hot.” His breath fanned against your neck, hot hands running down your body, all three of you growing more and more impatient with each ragged breath, Steve’s tongue still shoved down your throat while Eddie played with your breasts, lips on your neck, making you squirm. 

You could feel Eddie’s needy cock pressing against your ass, while Steve’s was barely confined in his boxers, prodding against your thigh, you don’t know how or when it happened but Eddie had joined in on the kiss too, the three of your lips moving in synch, busy between each other’s hot mouths, tongues curious and on beat, all magical and tempting.

Dark depths you always wanted to explore but never could, sloppy and filthy in the best way possible, shutting your eyes close as you enjoyed it, felt it all. 

Unsure of who’s tongue was tangled in yours at this point but you could careless, disorienting you in a way that you couldn’t tell whose hands were hot all over your body, everywhere, messy, and uncontrolled. 

And fuck, did you need more. 

You could tell they did too, dicks twitching against you in a way that made you flutter. 

And it felt like the three of you communicated, telepathically, because both of them, somehow managed to break the kiss, making your face fall in for more, unable to do anything with your hands cuffed to the bed. Infuriating, and not helping the wetness that had well already pooled inside of you. 

“Awww, our pretty baby is needy, isn’t she?” Eddie mocked, both of them shifting down to your thighs, attention all on you as they spread you wider, mesmerized gaze following your every slight twitch. 

“Relax,” Eddie cooed, amber gaze dangerously warm, both making you whine and giving you comfort at the same time, and before you could think, Steve’s hands warmed you up as well. 

“Let us take care of you,” he added, and you couldn’t help but enjoy their squeezing, kneading, making you feel so fucking good. 

You nodded, squirming as Eddie’s bearded chin tickled your skin, planting kisses inside of your thigh, while Steve’s fingers teased you, and all you could do was whine, hips rising from the bed, lust overshadowing the initial doubt. 

“That’s our good girl,” Eddie praised, your thighs spread open, pussy exposed, completely. The two of them taking care of you, hands everywhere and one of their thumbs teasing your entrance, collecting your juices, smearing it around your lips, making you go airborne. 

You could barely comprehend what happened when fingers slipped inside of you, one at first, then two, slicked in your juices, teasing, pumping in and out of you.

Head thrown back, you embrace the euphoria, different fingers entering inside of you, both of them deeper and deeper, squelching noises and your whimpers so heavenly that Eddie could feel his cock twitching, while Steve pathetically rutted into the sheets, desperate for some friction.

Fingering you until you could hear how wet you were, opening you up. Fully exposed to them.

You were too fucked out to notice that they had both started kissing your pussy lips, lapping up your juices, drinking you in, Eddie on one side and Steve on the other. 

Heaven-sent.

You moaned like a bitch in heat, Eddie and Steve’s dripping cocks stirred at the sound, desperate to make you cum, to taste you.

Their fingers linked inside of you, thumbs continuing their rubs, and that hot white spot appeared behind your eyes. 

You wanted to cum.

Fuck that.

You needed to cum.

And who were they to deny their little angel? 

You had earned it.

Back arched, hands tight against the cuffs, all you could do was mewl as their fingers were stretching you, licks all over your hole making your breath ragged, “E-Eds… Stevie… I-I… shit!” 

Eddie was quick to pop his head to meet your gaze, fingers still continuing their movements, flicking your sensitive spots as he gave you that goddamn grin again. “You wanna cum doll… don’t ya?” 

Your body was frail. The most beautiful ache. Your entire nerve system felt like it was about to explode. 

Everywhere. All at once. 

“Come for us,” Steve  encouraged, his and Eddie’s fingers moving faster, Steve lapping up your juices while Eddie’s tongue found your clit, sucking on it like it was his lifeline. 

The softest tongue, but the roughest movements. Just fucking perfect. 

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, “E-Eddie, S-Steve!” 

“That’s right, slut, scream our name while you come for us,” Eddie demanded. 

And fuck you wanted more, so much more. Just the idea of having two of them inside of you at the same time was enough to have your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head. 

But you couldn’t wait. 

“You-you’re both so… fuck… fu… fu… fuckkkkk…” Your words got caught in the back of your throat, pathetic noises was all they could make out, especially as Eddie’s tongue circled around your clit, suckling, fingers working faster as it finally brought you over the edge. Making you jerk and come so hard that white spots flew behind your eyes. 

The wildfire and the chemistry between the three of you burning your insides, that tingling warm sensation prickling every inch of your skin. 

“God, you taste perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie praised with a low hum. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that fucking moan?”

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve growled, making you his while he gently uncuffed you, each of their praises sending warm tingles down your spine.

Fuck, they were good. 

And as Steve was about to get up, Eddie stopped him with a quick tut. “Okay, pipe down, sweetheart, you still have a lot to learn.” 

With that dumbfounded look on his face, he turned to face Eddie, making him grin wider. 

“Oh, Stevie you look so cute with that confused look on your face, such a pretty face isn’t he?” Eddie’s attention turned to you, still so domineering that all you could do was frantically nod. 

“Do you wanna help me teach him, baby?” You nodded, again, gaze glazed, overtaken by desire.

The two of you were quick to pin him down, skin meshing all together when you helped Eddie cuff him.

“Let us take care of you, pretty boy.” 

[streetlamp-amber]

don’t leave

tommy shelby x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: domestic violence, typical peaky blinders violence, mentions of blood NOTES: takes place after season one. i might have gone a little ooc with tommy by the end #sorrynotsorry. i’m also thinking of making a part 2 to this. maybe. i don’t know.

“Oh, come on! I’m harmless!” You cried in defence as you watched two men tie your wrists then your ankles to the chair you were shoved in.

The last man of the trio observed you, taking a drag from his cigarette before throwing it on the floor. “You shot me. Twice.” He said, monotonously.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at you and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at their intensity. You quickly recollected yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed the little slip up in your facade.

He had.

“It was an honest mistake,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I thought you were someone else. Everyone knows not to shoot at Tommy Shelby.”

The two men who were occupied with tying you down stepped out of the room once they were done, leaving you alone with the most notorious gangster in Birmingham. You didn't really know where you were, probably one of the Peaky Blinders’ warehouses if you had to bet on it, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared. But, nothing could be worse than being with the man you were hiding from, so you found some solace in that thought.

“And who did you think I was?” Tommy asked you.

“No one important,” you brushed off, turning your head to the left to avoid his stare. Your eyes took in your surroundings, there wasn’t a lot of furniture here you noticed. Par for the chair you were tied to, there was what looked like a desk with another chair in the left corner. No machinery, no crates. The rest of the warehouse was completely empty.

“Eh!” Tommy called for your attention, snapping his fingers in your face. “You shot me twice, I think I deserve to know who you thought I was.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t shoot you twice, I shot at you twice. There’s a difference, I didn’t even hit you.”

“Small detail,” Tommy said. “Answer the fucking question.” His patience was beginning to wear thin, very thin.

You gulped. What was the point of avoiding the question? “My fiancé,” you finally answered.

“Your fiancé?” He repeated, trying to keep the confusion out of his tone. “Why would you shoot at your fiancé?”

“Because he’s a vile man that I don’t even want to marry,” you told him. If your wrists weren’t tied to the chair, you would’ve crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Can you untie me now? You know I’m not a threat to you.”

“Does he hit you? Is that why you’re running from him?” Tommy asked, ignoring your request.

“Amongst other things,” you mumbled, head hanging low so you could avoid his stare by keeping your eyes on your lap.

“’Amongst other things’,” he repeated your words to himself. “What does that mean? Is he a threat for the people of Small Heath?” He didn't want some low life fuck to come mess up the order of things on his territory.

“Probably, I don’t know,” you admitted, scrunching your eyes closed before looking back up at Tommy. His face was much closer now, maybe five inches separated the tips of your noses as he crouched down with his hands on his knees to be at a closer level to you. “All I know is my brother was in debt to the Billy Boys and promised my hand in marriage to one of those fucks to pay off part of his due.”

“The Billy Boys? Aren’t you a little down south of their territory?”

“Thought I’d be able to hide from them here,” you said. “Until last week, when I saw one of them trying to follow me at the market.”

“And that’s why, two days ago, you shot at me,” Tommy put the pieces of your story together.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Shelby, I was just so scared,” your voice started to wobble with emotion, your tough, indifferent persona out of the window. “Them Billy Boys, they’re the spawn of the Devil himself. They’re gonna kill me after they catch me.”

Through your blurry vision, you saw Tommy rise up and sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

“Alright, we can help you,” he finally said after a few minutes.

You felt the tears roll down your cheek, whether they were tears of exhaustion or fear or relief, you didn’t know. “Thank you Mr. Shelby.”

“But it won’t be for free,” he pointed his index finger at you. “You know how to use a gun?”

You hurriedly nodded your head. “Yes, yes I do. I usually don’t miss my shots, I was just afraid when I shot at you.”

“Well thank God you were, eh?” It could’ve been a joke attempt if his tone wasn’t so serious. “It’ll be useful to have a woman to work undercover when needed. And you will tell us everything there is to know about the Billy Boys and your fiancé so we can know who to look out for.”

“Yes Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy crouched down to cut loose the bonds around your wrists and ankles. “My brother John will accompany you to your lodgings so you can fetch your stuff, it’s not safe for you to stay there if they’ve been following you around. You’ll stay with me on Watery Lane, Ada’s room has been vacant ever since she got married.”

“Thank you Mr. Shelby,” you grabbed his hand as you thanked him and Tommy stopped moving, blue eyes staring at the grasp you had on him. You noticed his unease and just as you were about to release his hand, you felt him briefly squeeze your fingers before letting go.

“Come now, I’ve got business to attend to,” he beckoned for you to follow him and it took you a second to come out of your stupor due to everything that has happened in the last fifteen minutes before you rose up from the chair and walked a little behind him, out of the warehouse.

It had been a month since that day in the warehouse. You hadn’t seen your fiancé or any of the Billy Boys since then, but you also rarely went out of the Shelby house (other than to go to the Garrison). And on the rare occasions you did, two Blinders were following close behind you to make sure nothing happened to you. You still felt greatly in debt to Tommy for taking you under the Peaky Blinders’ protection, so instead of doing nothing while you waited for any “undercover mission”, you helped down at the betting den. You liked how lively it was there, you had never worked in a place like that before and the constant rush helped you take your mind off your worrying situation. You hadn’t seen any of the Billy Boys but that didn’t mean they had left town, you knew they wouldn’t back down until they have what they came for: you.

Working in the den for the last month has helped you make your place in the gang. You spent a lot of your days alongside John Shelby and Scudboat, and they would drag you with them to the Garrison where you played drinking games and got drunk like you used to do when you were younger. You now considered the Shelby family your friends. Arthur and John were like the brothers you wished you had, Polly was a nice woman to have around in this environment full of men, and Finn, sweet Finn, his childish innocence might be fading away as time went by, but playing with him was like a breath of fresh air in your stressful life.

Tommy… Well, Tommy was Tommy. He was hard to read, hard to open up, but he was slowly starting to warm up to you. It was a bit awkward at first, living with him, but one night a little after you moved in, the two of you shared a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen, barely speaking any words but both comfortable with the silence. It soon became a part of your daily routine. Some evenings were short, Tommy would only stay for one glass before retreating to bed, while other evenings, when he was in a better mood, you would go through an entire bottle and talk for what seemed like hours. You did most of the talking, but Tommy would share some of his thoughts, maybe even some anecdotes. You loved the stories of his childhood, about all the mischief he, Arthur and John would put the people of Small Heath through. And Tommy, he loved listening to you.

You liked the life you were building for yourself in Birmingham, amongst the Peaky Blinders. You never thought you would one day leave your small village up north, where life was dull and horrible with your brother. Your mother died while giving birth to you and both your father and your brother resented you for that. Your childhood was pretty rough, it wasn’t rare that you’d show up to school with bruises, it didn’t matter who they were from. Then your brother went up north to Glasgow, and for a while it was a blessing, to no longer have to worry about what he would do to you. But three months ago, he came back and with him was Brennan. They dragged you up to Glasgow for your wedding to this man you had never met before, you who had no say in this decision, and were forced to live with him. You couldn’t continue living like this, Brennan had you fearing for your life more than when you lived with your dad and brother. You didn’t stay for more than two weeks in Glasgow before you escaped in the middle of the night and ended up here, in Birmingham.

So to now find yourself, miles away from the nightmare that used to be your life, with the safety of the Peaky Blinders, it allowed you to imagine a future that wasn’t so miserable.

You were walking down to the Garrison once the betting den was closed, talking with Scudboat about the profits you had made that day while Billy Lovelock followed behind the two of you. You were deep in Peaky Blinders territory, less than five metres away from the entrance door to the pub, when a gun shot rang out.

You ducked in fear, hands covering your ears, and when you reopened your eyes that you didn’t know you had closed, you saw Billy laying on the ground out of the corner of your eye.

Oh no, you thought, this is it. They’ve found me.

“Come on! Come on!” Scudboat grabbed your elbow and dragged you towards the Garrison, but you hadn’t made more than three steps before your friend was shot in the leg, crumbling down. “Go inside!” He told you. “You’ll be safer!”

A part of you felt bad for leaving him and Billy out here, wounded and bleeding, but you knew the rest of the Peaky Blinders would be quick to come help them. You started running, which was a bit hard to do with the heels of your shoes sinking in the muddy, uneven ground with every step you took. Your fingers were inches from the door handle when you felt a strong grip on your shoulder pull you back and slam you hard against the wall, knocking your head against it in the process.

“Ya thought ya could run away from me? Eh, lass?” Your fiancé’s stinky breath wafted against your face. You scrunched up your nose in disgust.

“I don’t know, you didn’t find me for a while,” you sassily replied, pressing his buttons, and immediately regretted it. A sharp sting appeared on your left cheek before it registered that he had slapped you.

“Heard ye fucked Thomas Shelby for his protection,” he continued, resting his right forearm over your throat with a slight pressure. “I oughta cut his dick for that,” his left hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, “and you, well, you’re in for a lot more than a beating once we’re out of ‘ere.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you Brennan,” you angrily spat through gritted teeth. “You’re in Peaky Blinders territory, they won’t let you get out of here with me. And I didn’t fuck Tommy Shelby, I didn’t need to fuck no one for protection.”

“What did I tell you about lying?” He screamed in your face, making you flinch.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see Brennan reeling back his fist to punch you in the face but fortunately, the contact never came.

“HEY!” Scudboat yelled from where he was on the ground, gripping his wound to contain the bleeding. “Get your hands off of her you fuck!”

Brennan turned around to look at who was shouting orders at him. “And who the fuck are ya?!” He let go of you and stalked towards Scudboat, pulling his gun out of his coat.

You had an out. Your fiancé’s attention wasn’t on you. You could escape, find safety in the Garrison, but you knew how Brennan was. You couldn’t leave Scudboat alone, the man had become your friend over the last month and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing he had died because of you.

So you grabbed a shovel laying on the ground a few metres away and right as Brennan pointed his gun at Scudboat, you whacked him behind the head with your weapon, knocking him out right away. “Motherfucker,” you grumbled to the unconscious body and threw the shovel on the ground before kneeling next to Scudboat. “Are you alright?” You asked your friend, your hands hovering over his thigh where his blood kept oozing from the bullet hole.

“I’m fine Y/N, get inside,” Scudboat waved you off.

“What about Billy?” You glanced up to where the strong built man still laid on the ground, also unconscious.

“Don't worry about him, just get inside!” Scudboat shoved you away.

You did as you were told and sprinted to the Garrison. You pushed the door open only to be met with an empty pub. Your wide eyes roamed around the room. This isn't normal, you thought to yourself. There wasn't even a bartender behind the bar! Usually, around this time of the day, almost every seat should've been occupied, beers should’ve been poured, laughter should’ve been heard. But nothing.

You walked towards the snug, where Tommy and his brothers could usually be found, but instead Jimmy McCavern, Callum Maxwell, Kenneth Morrow and Angus Burns were occupying the room, all four of them staring at you with that look in their eyes that made you want to run away as far from them as possible.

“Y/N, so nice of ye to join us,” Jimmy said, his voice sending chills down your back. He looked comfortable in his chair, with his arms crossed over his chest, almost relaxed, but you didn’t let your guard down.

“Where–”

“Where are the Peaky Blinders, ye ask?” He interrupted you. “They’re a wee bit busy right now, I’m afraid it’s only us.”

“Take a seat, darling, go on,” Angus told you, motioning to the empty chair in front of you.

You did as he said, your hands wringing together in your lap. You knew not to become all witty and sarcastic with these men, obeying them was always the best thing to do.

“So, hope ye had yer fun down here with Thomas Shelby,” Jimmy continued, uncrossing his arms to instead rest them in front of him on the table as he leaned closer to you, “because yer days of fun are over. You're coming back to Glasgow with us, married to Brennan like yer brother arranged.”

It was at this moment that you realised you couldn't escape the Billy Boys. You had been so foolish to think you could leave them in the past, that you started imagining a future without Brennan. The Peaky Blinders could not protect you, you had been foolish to think otherwise.

But still, you weren’t going to lose without putting up a fight.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m not marrying Brennan.”

“Ye don’t have a choice lass, yer brother promised yer hand,” Callum said.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You asked angrily, tears pooling in your eyes. “This is not my debt, it’s his! You can kill him for all I care, he never cared about me so why should I care about him!?”

“A deal was made, ye can’t back out of a deal with the Billy Boys,” Kenneth said, his eyes telling you to stop arguing.

“No!” You slammed your hands on the table and stood up. “I’m not going. I’m not marrying Brennan. I refuse. This isn’t my deal!”

“Don't make this worse for ye, lass,” Angus warned you, also standing up.

“Fuck you!” You spat and took off in a run, escaping through the back door of the Garrison.

You knew the four men were on your tail, you could hear their heavy footsteps behind you. You tried to remember the directions Tommy had given you to Jeremiah Jesus’ church as you sprinted down the dirty streets and alleys. He had told you to hide there if you ever needed to, and since Jeremiah didn’t partake in the Peaky Blinders’ activities, the chances he would be there were quite high and, honestly, your last hope to survive.

Gunshots started ringing against the brick walls, luckily for you all the bullets flew past you since none of the four men were able to perfectly aim while running. You turned left at a corner and Jeremiah’s church was finally in your vision field, less than a few blocks down. Jimmy and the others still had yet to turn the corner of the street, so you took this advantage to go down a small alley, knowing it would lead to the back door of the church.

You stumbled in the place of worship, out of breath, and Jeremiah came out from the back office to see what the commotion you had created was about.

“Y/N, are you alright dear?” He asked you, helping you walk inside while your left hand clutched at your chest.

You shook your head ‘no’. “The Billy… The Billy Boys… They found me,” you wheezed out.

Jeremiah’s eyes widened at the urgency of the situation. “Come with me, there’s a trap where you can hide in my office.”

The priest led you to the back, closing his office door behind him before moving the rug behind his desk, revealing a trapdoor. He unlocked the latch and lifted the door. “Hurry, get in,” he waved with his free hand.

You lowered yourself in the hole, sitting down in the small space, and looked back up at Jeremiah.

“Do you have a gun on you?” He asked you.

You shook your head ‘no’. “I was with Scudboat and Billy Lovelock, we were on our way to the Garrison. There was no need for one,” you answered.

Jeremiah motioned for you to hold the door open over your head while he rummaged around his office. “Tommy always keeps a gun in here just in case,” he explained to you as he continued his search. “You can never know when it’ll come in handy around here– Ah! There it is!”

He crouched down and handed you a pistol. “I’ll try to keep them out if they come around. Stay safe.”

You nervously gulped before nodding your head. “You too, Jeremiah.”

The priest smiled, an attempt to make you feel slightly better in the situation you were in, and closed the door above you. You heard him lock the latch and replace the rug above the trap.

You remained there for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds you could hear were your nervous, laboured breaths and the gun slightly shaking in your hands. You were about to start praying – you never really believed in God after everything you had been through, but what better place to turn to Him than in a church – when you heard the door to the office open, followed by the sound of feet walking on the floor. Scared, you held your breath and willed your hands to stop shaking as you got in position, gun pointed up and ready to shoot.

The rug was moved and the latch was unlocked. You could feel the beating of your heart grow faster and faster as the seconds went by. The door was pulled open and, upon seeing the gun pointed at him, Tommy raised one hand up while the other lowered the door on the floor.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, raising his other hand up, showing you that he was no threat. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just me.”

When your brain registered that the face in front of you was the one of Thomas Shelby, you let down your arms and sighed in relief.

“Oh Tommy!” You cried out. You dropped the gun on the ground while you stood up and wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck, bringing him in an unexpected hug.

Tommy was surprised at first, but Scudboat had told him what happened outside of the Garrison and he had received a phone call from Johnny Dogs informing him that Jimmy McCavern and his goons were in town, so he held you against him, trying to comfort you as best he could.

“You're safe now,” he reassured you, his right hand scrunching your hair as it held your head. “They’re gone now, Jimmy’s gone, Brennan’s gone.”

You pulled away, your eyes red with tears. “What did you do to them?”

“I was able to strike a deal that they simply couldn’t refuse,” Tommy answered, his right hand now cupping your cheek. “They won’t bother you again Y/N, not ever.”

Overcome with a wave of strong emotions, you shocked both Tommy and yourself when you leaned forward and kissed him. It didn’t last more than a second for you pulled back right after, bringing your hands in front of your mouth as you gasped. “I’m so sorry Tommy, I don’t know what–”

“It’s alright,” Tommy interrupted you, shaking his head. “Let’s get you out of there, yeah?”

You nodded your head, still embarrassed of your actions, and picked up the gun before grabbing the hand Tommy held out for you. He helped you out of the trap and closed the door behind you while you stood up and put the gun on Jeremiah’s desk. When you turned around to face Tommy again, you found him mere inches away from you. Your breath hitched in your throat, you had never been this close to him before, except when you first met, when he interrogated you while you were tied up to a chair. You looked up at him, his unreadable icy blue eyes staring right back at you, and he was the one to surprise you by closing the distance between the two of you, his lips finding yours again.

Your eyes fluttered close by themselves as you lost yourself in the kiss, your hands finding their place at the base of his neck while his right hand cupped your cheek and his left one held you flush against him by the waist. It was no secret that Thomas Shelby was pretty to look at, but you never really thought about him in a romantic way before. That being said, there was no bone in your body opposed to kissing him. Actually, it even started up a fire inside you, one that you were too preoccupied to acknowledge right now.

Tommy broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours as you both took some deep breaths. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said with his deep, low voice. “I’m glad they didn’t take you away from me.”

He never told anyone because he wouldn’t even let himself admit it, but Tommy had grown comfortable with your presence in the house. After what Grace did to him, he promised himself he would only focus on the business and his family, but his attachment for you came rather unexpectedly, just like your entrance in his life did. Still, he didn’t want to act on it, whether it was because of fear or because of disinterest in wanting some romantic relationship, he didn’t want to ponder on it too long. But after what happened today, when he heard your fiancé and Jimmy McCavern would try taking you back to Glasgow, he realised he would regret it for the rest of his life if you were gone without him having the chance to pursue anything.

You looked up at him, brushing his nose with yours as you moved your head. “Me too,” you whispered. “Thank you Tommy, for everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, brushing your hair with his hand that previously held your waist. “Just, just stay with me. Don’t leave.”

The vulnerability in his voice made you smile, he had never been so open with you before. “I didn’t plan on leaving anyway,” you answered and kissed him again, safe in his arms.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Moments in Time - Luke Hughes Edition

Word Count - 3000

Summary - The eight times Luke Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here

Author's Note - Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.

Quinn Hughes Edition. Jack Hughes Edition.

I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas.

Main Masterlist

Luke couldn't care less about wanting a ring camera. Both of his brothers had them and he really didn’t care. Now since he moved out of Jack’s apartment and into yours it’s a different story. He no longer has a nice fancy lobby with a mailroom. When a package comes it comes to his doorstep. This year Luke has been stepping up his fashion game (his words not yours) and buying some new items for his closet. Now to Luke, a $300 shirt might not seem like a lot but to a normal human being it was. 

Luke wasn’t concerned about packages being taken form your doorstep until you told him about your neighbor. When you first moved into your apartment a few years ago, your neighbor warned you about how some of his packages had been stolen and to be care. Literally nothing has happened in the three years you’ve had your apartment but you still did mention it to Luke. Once Luke heard about how packages were taken (even though none of them were yours) he was texting his brothers asking for a link to the one they had. Now you, on the other hand, wanted a ring camera because Quinn and Jack’s girlfriends were telling you how much fun it is to mess with the boys on the ring camera. So you decided you kind of wanted to join the fun and get one.The ring camera was totally worth it to both of you within six months with just all the ‘little mundane moments’ it caught on camera. 

Don’t forget the brownie bark!

Luke knew you were leaving to go to the store and instead of sending you a simple text, his lazy ass decided to yell at you through the ring. It scared the shit out of all of a sudden you heard Luke’s voice but knew he was on his way to the gym. 

“BABY! DON’T forget my brownie bark at the store! Please!” 

Once you registered that it was in fact Luke’s voice and it was coming from the ring camera you turned your body towards the camera. 

“What do you mean?? You still have all of that moose tracks dairy free ice cream I brought you because “I can’t do dairy during the season’ plus all those pretzels and everything else???” A small sigh leaving your lips before Luke can even reply because you already know what he’s going to say.

“Yeah but I’m not in the mood for those things anymore… maybe next week but this week I want the brownie bark you get from Costco.” he softly whined as he contonied to beg for his snack.

“Fine! But listen Hughes you have to finish this snack before I buy anything else because your literally taking up some much cabinet space and we have a small kitchen.”

“Deal.” he immediately and excitingly says before he rushes a goodbye and leaves the ring app. A soft sigh leaves your mouth as you head down the hallway to the elevator to go to the store

2.I hate you right now

Okay you didn’t really hate Luke you were just upset that he happened to have ordered a new gaming chair which came in the most awkward huge sized box. He told you he ordered it three weeks ago and it should be here before he has to go on his seven day west coast roadie. Of course it wasn’t, you dropped him off an hour ago and decided to get some errands done before returning home. Of course, it was just your luck that when you got home there would be a gigantic probably 100 lb perfectly cubed box that was definitely Luke’s new gaming chair. Deciding to go inside and set your things down and send Luke a text before dealing with the box.

Lukeyboo:

Guess what was here when i got home 🙄🙄

My love:

Is it my chair?? 👀

Lukeyboo:

Yes 

And its a fucking huge box by the way I don’t know how I’m gonna lift it. 

Gonna go try to attempt now

By the time you made it back to the hallway of your apartment building Luke greeted you on the ring camera. “Hi baby, I’m here for emotional support.” he says teasingly and even though you can’t see him you know he has a huge smile on his face. Making it a point to make an annoyed face at the camera, making sure he knows how the universe seemed to time this perfectly for you. Looking down you decide that it’s probably easiest to shuffle the box inside your apartment. Trying to move the box an inch but it doesn’t budge. 

“Baby try using your legs not your arms.” Luke comments

“Oh wow. Why didn’t I think of that?” you say in a duh tone.

“Sorry I’ll stop mansplaining.” Immediately apologizing for trying to tell you how to move the box. Finally your able to move it a little and Luke cheers as a result. But then of course you continue to struggle for the next ten minutes. 

“You know I really hate you right now.” you say loud enough for the ring to pick it up. 

“I love and appreciate you too.” he responds without a second thought knowing you're just annoyed because of how oddly shaped the box is and Luke would have already had it in spare bedroom by now. “If it makes you feel better I think your hot when you're flustered” he admits.

“Hmmm” is the only response your willing to give him. Finally after what feels like forever but is probably only 3 minutes you get it in the door. Luke cheers through the camera. “Oh and I hope you know it’s staying right but the front door for you when you get home.” 

Luke lets out a chuckle as he admits “I wouldn’t expect anything else. Love you, miss you already baby.”

“Ugh I love you too, text me when you land.”

“Always” and he stays on the app until he hears you close the apartment door. 

3. Why are you acting like this as adults?

One thing that you loved about Luke was how truly close he was with his brothers. It really did make you happy that he was able to live his dream of playing on the same team as his older brother Jack. But being brothers even if both were in their early twenties they still acted like brothers. They were both stubborn as could be and competitive with each other. At times it can be cute, but even Nico told on one roadie they had to ban the brothers from playing soccer before their game because their fighting became too much.  

So it was no shocker when you were in the kitchen in the middle of cooking dinner in your apartment, and heard both the boys yelling as they were coming down the hallway. It’s one thing to hear Jack because he is naturally a louder person, but when you heard Luke also raising his voice and some thudding of the walls you decided to check the ring camera. Honestly, you weren’t sure to be surprised by their behavior of straight up wrestling in your tiny little narrow hallway apartment or a little disappointed in yourself that you were surprised by their behavior. 

Since the hallway was so narrow, you really didn't want one of them to accidentally get injured, even if it was minor due to them being idiots. Especially since it wouldn’t be hard to knock your head on the wall and accidentally get a concussion and then they would be out for at least a game. So you decided to yell at them through the camera to make them stop. “Boys I know that isn’t the Hughes brothers being idiots wrestling like some children?!” 

Immediately the noises stop and you smile to yourself. Knowing your boyfriend you knew that he was probably embarrassed but your suspensions were confirmed when you heard him say “sorry baby” before Jack muttered out his own apologies. 

But then within a few seconds you heard another thud and you sighed as you clicked the speak button on your phone. “That better not be you all again, now knock it off or I swear I will treat you like my nephews and take video games away for the night.” Honestly, you didn’t count it but you're pretty sure within a minute the boys were inside, and in the kitchen kissing up to you knowing damn well you would take the video games away.

4. Take Out

Luke was on one of those rare long roadies that was closer to a week and two time zones away rather than a quick 72 hours down the east coast. All roadies were hard, but somehow the ones that were in different time zones and longer than an extended weekend felt more real. It was almost like if he was gone for the 2 days it didn’t matter, but when it was hitting the fourth day of his roadie missing Luke turned into what felt like longing for him. Craving anything that would help you feel closer to Luke, on your way home that night you picked up pizza from his favorite place. Lately you’ve been leaving little messages occasionally for him when he’s away. Since missing him felt like it was slowly consuming you, you couldn’t help but leave one on your way inside your apartment. 

“Hi Lukey, we are at the halfway mark of this roadie. I miss you so much, I got the pizza from that place you like, just like you like it. With all the papers, and even olives, even though I hate olives, picking them off might make it seem like your home. Love you, good luck tonight against the Kings.”

When Luke watched that video he texted you that he also missed you and he loved you. That was the first time on a roadie in his entire life he ever wished he was home with you instead of where he was.

5. It was your turn Luke!

Finally getting home after a long day at work and walking into your apartment, sighing with content. After changing out of your work clothes into some sweats, you decide you should start dinner before you take a shower and get ready for Luke’s home game tonight. But as you walk into the kitchen you see in the corner the trash overflowing. Immediately you find yourself annoyed at Luke because he promised he would take it out before he left and it was not only overflowing but also started to smell. Deciding ultimately that you need to take the trash out before you make yourself a quick dinner. 

As you tie up the bag and carry it to the front door, throw on some of Luke’s crocs by the door since you're only going outside for two minutes to deal with the trash. Still very annoyed at Luke you can’t help but ring the doorbell so he gets a notification. 

“LUKE YOU PROMISED. Remember how you said you’d do it before you left but of course you forgot again.” Sighing again you say in a calmer but still very annoyed voice “it’s fine cause I’m doing now but it made the whole kitchen smell, Lukey. I might be late to the game cause I’m gonna burn a candle in the kitchen now” Finally walking away to deal with the trash, the clip ends because ‘movement in front of camera has ended.’

Luke sees the notification while he’s walking into the stadium and his arrival photos are ruined because he’s all red and blushy because you scolded him for forgetting about the trash again. Turns out, you do make it to the game but after puck drop. Luke sees you make your way to your normal seat, always claiming the game didn’t feel as real in the WAGs suite. He happened to skate past your seat to get ready for a power play, when you saw him. He mouths “I’m sorry” as he takes his hand to chest to sign in ASL as well, something that both of you started using while he’s playing. He signs a quick “I love you” before the whistle blows and he’s focused back on the game.

6. First Roadie far away

This wasn’t his first roadie by any means, Luke has been playing hockey his entire life. He has gone on countless roadies from his USA Hockey days to UMitch, hell even his rookie year. But this was the first roadie far away enough that you couldn’t travel to his game since you started living together. This gave the idea of roadies a whole new light. He suddenly wasn’t excited to travel to a new city, play his favorite game and explore a new city, not when you were home in Hoboken. He can’t help himself from turning around and saying goodbye in the camera. Watching it later you could tell that he was truly sad and not pretending as a joke. Sniffling with his suitcase behind him dressed in a nice suit. 

“I love you sweetie, I’ll call you when I land. I kinda don’t wanna go… DON’T tell anyone that!” He signs I love you with his right hand. He starts to walk away and you expect the camera to cut out, but then he comes running back. He gets super close to the camera, like you can really just see one eye, his nose and mouth. “BABY! Please don’t kill the plants! I know you think you’ve done really good this time keeping them alive this long. But the truth is I’ve been watering them for you because I didn’t wanna see you cry after killing another African Violet. Which also I googled and it’s almost impossible to do so your kind of the best at being the killer of plants. Okay gotta go before I’m late I love you.”

7. I’ll buy you a new cupcake 

Luke decided as a treat for himself that he would get himself just one cupcake from both of your favorite bakeries. There was only one left from the 6 pack you had in the fridge from last week.  It was his treat to himself for not having any other cheat meals this week, which is shocking because as you know that boy is ALWAYS eating! Luke also needed to go to the dry cleaners before they closed in 20 minutes. Deciding that he didn’t wanna wait until he got home he ate it on his way out the door. 

Of course Lukes luck, the movement in front of the ring was enough for a notification to be sent out. Immediately as Luke is still chewing the cupcake, your voice comes blaring from the speaker. 

“LUKE WARREN HUGHES! I KNOW you’re not eating the last cupcake. That you SAID WE’D SHARE WHEN I GOT HOME TONIGHT!” Okay so Luke forgot the other day you wanted to eat it and he begged you not to and that you would share it today, whoops. 

“I promise I will buy you some on my way home, I’m sorry baby” Just a mumble of acknowledgement was the only thing that left your mouth. 

One week later:

Turns out the same thing happened, Luke and you promised that if both of you didn’t have any cheat meals and stayed to your health routine. Both of you could share the last cupcake. Well this time it was you that ate the cupcake. Luke was very much a pouty mess about it when he walked into the kitchen and saw the container on top of the trash can. Hearing your full name in one breath out of Luke’s mouth, you winced realizing what happened. Except instead of angry Luke comes to you on the couch, face full of pout, and puppy eyes truly sad that he couldn’t have the treat he was looking forward to for days because you ate it with your lunch this afternoon. 

“I’m sorry Lukey” opening your opens and immediately he flops into them. 

“I really wanted it!” he pouted.

“I know. I am sorry I’ll buy you more tomorrow okay.” Luke only nodded his head yes as he dug himself deeper into your embrace as one hand started caressing his back, the other digging your fingers into his curls lightly scratching. 

8. Next time I’ll wait

It’s a Monday afternoon and you’ve been waiting all weekend for a new pair of shoes to be delivered. They were a pair of limited edition converse and you were excited to get them in before you traveled to Europe for the Stadium Series that opened your boyfriend’s NHL season. Naturally every little alert you get from the ring app your checking. Most of them have just been neighbors walking past to get to their own apartments. But it still doesn’t stop you form opening the notification you just got. 

Now what you weren’t expecting to see was but also wasn’t surprised to see. Is Luke running outside of the apartment with a pot that’s on fire because he accidentally set something on fire while cooking. The embarrassment is clear on his face when he comes back a minute later with no pot in sight, assuming he left it outside in the leftover snow from a few days ago. Thinking he got away with his cooking disaster until he makes direct eye contact with the ring camera and suddenly remembers its existence. 

He decides to just rip the bandaid off and looks directly into the camera as he says “we're out of eggs by the way.”

Deciding to just talk to Luke now you press the speak button and with a light chuckle you add “well and a new pan since I no longer see it. I hope it wasn’t the one that I love.” 

Luke suddenly looks like a deer in headlights, obviously he wasn’t expecting you to be watching him run out of the apartment with a pan on fire. “Uhhh I’ll buy you a whole new set, the ones you have saved on amazon, the colored ones!” 

“Okay. baby next time can you wait 5 minutes until I’m home” 

A giant sigh leaves Luke’s lips as his face starts to form his famous pout, “Yeah okay”

[xoxosolia]

hii. ohmg, just read your post about you becoming a master shifter and I'm sooo happy for you!! seeing successes on here genuinely makes me feel so inspired and happy, so thanks for sharing it with us.

however, i would love to know how you shifted for the first time, what blockages did u let go of to finally have shifted. also i hope you can mention the method when u first shifted (if u used any), which methods do you use to shift regularly now? how does it feel to be a master shifter? and if its okay with you, can you share wid us your Drs? ALSO IS SHIFTING RLLY AS EASY AS THEY SAY!!?

thankyouu soo much💌

♡ How i shifted for the first time ♡

The first time I shifted was a normal Sunday. I was so depressed and I absolutely didn't want to go to class because the next day I had a lot of control, so i just said to myself "I'll shift tonight or never" I was seriously determined, so I tried closing my eyes and putting on a subliminal but it didn't work so I fell asleep.

I woke up around 2 a.m. and realized that I hadn't succeeded. I was a little disappointed and very tired but I wanted to try again. So since it was still early and I had time, that's what I did. I concentrated on my dr very precisely, imagining myself looking in the mirror and dressing myself in my dream clothes, I was extremely focused on all the details , my face, clothes my friends, things like that.

It lasted about 20 minutes I think, until my eyes opened on their own and was in my room in my dr on my bed, I didn't immediately understand that I had shifted , everything seemed so normal. It took me 5 minutes to understand that my room had changed and I was like "Oh shit"

I think what made me succeed that night and not the others was that I was very focused on my dr and that I was too tired to notice the symptoms that I had, And also because those days I was alone at home and therefore my house was completely silent, so i understood that was just a problem of distraction

I didn't use any particular method, I just let myself go and I don't use any at all now. I just think very hard about my dr and I'm there

Honestly I really like being a master shifter, I feel so powerful lol😭. and it really boosted my self-confidence. It also means that now I no longer ask for anything at all because I know that if I want it I will have it whether it is with the shift or with the manifestation. When I realized that I had become a master shifter I first had a mini existential crisis. I was asking myself things like "So technically magic exists?" "So technically I'm immortal?" "So anything is really possible?" I wasn't really sad about it on the contrary. I found it incredible (and still do)

The shift also really changed the way I interact with others, whether here or in my other realities. Personally I don't make a script and I keep everything in my head because my subconscious knows what I want and sometimes in my dr my personality changes without me realizing it.

In my fame dr I am rather extroverted or even arrogant, and in my barbie charm school dr I am rather introverted and stubborn, the worst is that I never realized it until the day I had a big argument with my best friends from my fame dr. They didn't want to talk to me anymore and that's when I realized that yes, I can have problems even on shift in a perfect reality.

I have a lot of idea for my dr but for now i shift only in my better cr, fame dr and my Barbie charm school dr (I will definitely do a post about my dr).

I hope I answered all your questions :))

Xoxo, Solia ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა