#there’s been NOTHING the last few races until like the last lap

[yuckiemouth]

Ugh I miss u sex with Riki bro like him coming home from tour I’m frustrated

“I Missed You So Much”

“did you think of me every-time you masturbated in your dorm?”

After their ‘WALK THE LINE’ tour, ENHYPEN finally got the chance to fly overseas to reunite with their friends and family. Although the experience was exhausting yet enjoyable for all seven members, they could finally relax—at least until they navigate through the throngs of enthusiastic fans and paparazzi. The pushing, shoving, screams, and tears were finally behind them as they settled into their first-class seats—something they could now afford, escaping the usual chaos of being followed even in the air. Riki sat at the very back by the window, headphones over his ears, resting his head on a neck pillow as he settled in for some much-needed rest. A soft ding interrupted his music. Riki glanced down, picking up his phone from his lap. A message from Y/N, his secret girlfriend back in Japan, lit up the screen. It read: “I can’t wait to see u ❤️.”

A warm smile spread across Riki's face as he read Y/N's sweet text. He quickly typed out a reply, "Me too, baby. Can't wait to hold you again." His thumbs hovered over the send button, but then he hesitated. Better not risk getting caught by the others, especially Jake who always seemed to snoop around his phone. Riki deleted the message and replaced it with a more innocent one: "Miss you already! See you soon!" Satisfied, he hit send before putting his phone away and sinking deeper into his seat, letting the gentle hum of the plane lull him towards sleep once more.

His phone dinged again and Riki’s 100% sure Jake would’ve twisted his head and asked “who’s texting you so much?”, but luckily he was slumped next to the seats beside him with his mouth agape. Riki chuckled before snapping a pic, preparing to use it for blackmail. He quickly checked Y/N’s message and it read: view picture. He dubiously viewed the picture and he inaudibly gasped. Y/N’s shirt was lifted with her perky titties in frame with the letters blocking her nipples like a tease. “I really need you.” Riki felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at the provocative photo, his eyes lingering on Y/N's tantalizing cleavage. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. Damn, she knew just how to make him ache for her. He couldn't wait to get his hands on those perfect tits again, to taste her skin and hear her breathy pleas for more.

With a smirk, Riki typed out a response, keeping his words light and playful to avoid arousing suspicion. "Mmm, I really do need you too, baby. But we have a few hours till we land. Why don't you play with yourself while thinking about me?" He attached another sultry selfie of himself lounging comfortably, his bulge barely concealed beneath his pants. "Get me hard for our reunion." Riki let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair in anticipation. His mind wandered to their last encounter, the way she'd writhed beneath him, crying out his name as he pounded into her tight little pussy. The memory alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside his pants. With a sigh, he decided to drift off with that thought.

.

.

.

As Riki approached Y/N's apartment building, a sense of relief washed over him. Being surrounded by his loving family had been wonderful, but there was no denying that he craved the intimacy and passion he shared with Y/N. He quickened his pace, his heart racing with anticipation as he climbed the stairs to her door. Taking a deep breath, Riki knocked softly, hoping she wouldn't keep him waiting. When the door swung open, he was greeted by Y/N's radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with adoration. Without a word, Riki pulled her into his arms, claiming her lips in a searing kiss filled with pent-up desire. He needed her, wanted her, and nothing else mattered in that moment. Riki shoved her back into the apartment with the wet kiss, pushing the door back close with a soft kick.

Riki's hands roamed over Y/N's curves as he backed her against the wall, breaking the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat. He nipped and sucked at her sensitive skin, leaving a path of love bites in his wake. "Missed you so fucking much," Riki growled against her ear, his voice husky with lust. He ground his hips against hers, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against her belly. "Need to be inside you, Y/N. Now." Without waiting for a response, Riki scooped her up into his strong arms, carrying her towards the bedroom as he devoured her mouth once more. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in their desperate hunger for each other. Riki laid Y/N gently on the bed, his hands roaming her body as he kissed a fiery trail down her chest. He paused to worship her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her pert nipples until they pebbled under his attention. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped and whimpered with pleasure.

"Please, Riki," she panted, her hips bucking upwards in search of friction. "I'm so wet for you. Fill me up, baby." He grinned against her skin, his cock throbbing with need. He slid down her body, kissing and licking a path to her dripping core. "Oh, I plan to," he murmured, burying his face between her thighs and inhaling deeply. "Fuck, you smell incredible." He left one last kiss on her inner thigh before adjusting himself between her thighs.

His rigid erection brushing against her slick folds. He looked up at her, his dark eyes smoldering with raw desire. "Fuck, I’ve missed you, Y/N," he urged, his voice thick with lust. "Hmm, this wet pussy," Y/N's breath hitched, her gaze locked onto Riki's as she reached down to guide him to her entrance. "I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "Make me scream your name until my throat is raw." Riki groaned, his control slipping at her bold demand. With a swift thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, stretching her walls deliciously around his thickness. "Oh, fuck yes," his eyes rolled as he began thrusting into her tightness. Her mouth falls agape with desperate pleas escaping her short breath. “Uh huh, yeah, fuck me harder,” she nodded, encouraging him to go faster.

Riki gripped Y/N's hips tightly, pounding into her with reckless abandon as he chased his impending release. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking his cock with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin and their ragged breathing filled the room, creating a primal symphony of lust. "You're so damn tight," Riki grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove deeper. "Take all of me, baby. Every inch." Y/N's cries grew louder, her nails digging into his arms as she teetered on the edge. "Riki! Oh god, Riki!" she wailed, her body tensing beneath him. With one final, brutal stroke, Riki felt Y/N convulse around him, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

Riki's climax hit him like a freight train, his vision blurring as he spilled himself deep within Y/N's spasming heat. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy breaths mingling with hers as they both rode out the aftershocks. He rolled off her, pulling her close as they lay entwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Riki pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling content and sated in a way that only Y/N could provide.

[chaosinstigator]

100% chance of safety car… bitch where

[katsu28]

welcome to miami

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando wins miami, and you're there to see it happen (2.1k)

a/n: had to crank this one out for lando's first win 🧡 i'm still buzzing with excitement and pride omg

You’d decided to fly out to Miami on a whim, really. 

The last race you’d gone to had been a whole ordeal for you. The airline had nearly lost your luggage, Lando’s request for your paddock pass hadn’t gone through in time so you had to sit outside for hours until things got sorted out, just a few of the many things that definitely weren’t great.

But all things aside, Lando had done great in the race and you were there to witness him in his element—something you’d always love to see.

With all the chaos that seemed to come with the Miami Grand Prix, Lando assured you he’d understand if you wanted to sit this one out. You really were planning to stay behind, honest to god. But when you’d wished him luck and kissed him goodbye before he left for Miami, something in you shifted. 

Something was telling you to go, to be there for him in the flesh, even though it could get crazy and it was definitely a little bit out of your comfort zone. But your love for your boyfriend spanned far and beyond, so you did it. 

The unfortunate thing about the last minute planning was that your flight landed at the same time the race began. Between the mad scramble to make your redeye and confirm things like your pass and credentials when you got to the track, you’d forgotten to actually tell Lando you were coming. 

By the time you’d touched down in Miami, it was far too late. You’d have to settle for surprising him afterwards. 

You arrived at the paddock a little over halfway through the race, collapsing into an armchair at McLaren hospitality with the biggest sigh known to man. Your neck ached, your feet were killing you, you were starving and it was too damn hot here in Miami.

Maybe you could go grab some food in a second, but right now you were so exhausted you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d fallen asleep right there and then.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice drew you out of your stupor a while later, and you looked up to see Oscar’s girlfriend Lily staring back, a mix of confused and glad to see you. “Oh my god, you’re here! Lando said you weren't coming, he’s going to be so happy to see you!” 

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing, honestly. Lando doesn't even know I’m here.” 

“You must be on the edge of your seat right now.”

“Sorry?” 

 Lily nodded over your shoulder. “He’s winning. Lando’s leading the race, look.”

Suddenly you were wide awake, previous fatigue gone and forgotten as you spun around to look at one of the big screens showing the race. Lo and behold, there Lando was, holding steady at the front of the pack a good few seconds ahead of Max’s RedBull. 

“Holy shit.” You blinked a few times in disbelief, because maybe you were seeing things, but nothing changed. Lando was still P1 with only a handful of laps to go. “Holy shit!” 

“He’s gonna do it, Y/N. Lando’s gonna win.” Lily promised, squeezing your hand tightly. 

And she was right. 

The entire McLaren portion of the paddock erupted into deafening cheers the moment Lando sped past the waving checkered flag, you included. You were cheering so loud you felt your ears start to ring.

People were jumping around with each other left and right, folks you didn’t know hugging you and congratulating you on Lando’s win. It was odd, because you weren’t the one who’d won, it was your boyfriend, but you accepted the praise nonetheless. 

He’d done it. For the first time in his career, Lando had won. All the hard work, all the long days and sleepless nights, all the time and energy and training the entire team had put in to make a dream a reality had finally paid off. 

It felt like a sort of out-of-body experience for you, watching Lando throw himself across the barrier into his team, seeing him up on the top step of the podium with his first P1 trophy. Part of it didn’t feel real, but it was. 

You could hardly sit still while you waited for Lando and the rest of the team to return to the paddock. Of course he had to do a couple post-race interviews, the podium press conference, all that stuff, but you could stick it out. All would be worth it to see the look on his face when he saw that you were here instead of back home. 

It was only fitting that you heard them all coming before you saw them. Cheering, chanting, you even heard some singing going on, and then there he was. He was nothing but smiles all around as you watched him break away from the others and pull out his phone. 

It took everything you had in you not to yell out his name. Instead, you video called him with shaky hands, waiting eagerly for him to pick up. He answered immediately, his gleefully smiling face filling your screen. 

“Hi, I won!” He exclaimed, beaming so big and bright his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I won Miami!”

“I know! I’m so proud of you, Lan!” 

“I really wish you were here to see it, but it’s alright. Everything is so crazy here, I—” He stopped in his tracks as soon as he glanced back down at his screen, bringing the phone so close to his face you could only see one of his eyes and the fading cut across his nose. 

“What’re you doing, bub?” You laughed, feigning cluelessness. 

“Where are you? It’s…” His nose scrunched adorably as he tried to calculate the time difference in his head. “Eleven at night back home, why is it bright out on your end?”

“Maybe I’m not at home.” You shrugged, angling your own phone towards the McLaren logo behind you casually. “Maybe I’m…”

“No. What the fuck? Are you—” He cut himself off a second time, squinting at his phone. It was funny, watching his head whip up both on your screen and from where you were standing, even funnier when he clocked you instantly and all but threw his phone off to the side as he broke out in a full on sprint towards you. “Holy fuck, you’re here! How—what—” Lando was so shocked he couldn’t even finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.

You let him all but tackle you around the waist, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he spun you around a few times. He was hot and sticky with champagne and smelled like sweat and gasoline, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond proud of him you couldn’t even put it into words. Not bursting into tears of pride was all you could do. 

It turned out you couldn’t even do that, because as soon as your feet touched the ground again and he pulled back to look at you with stars in his eyes, the tears started to gather in yours. 

“Oh my god, are you crying?” He laughed, big hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. His thumb swiped over your cheek, catching a lone tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, woman, or else I’ll start crying again.” 

“Of course I’m crying, you dick!” You exclaimed, sniffling a few times in hopes of keeping the waterworks at bay. “I’m happy, I’m proud, I’m really fucking jet lagged right now, I don’t know what I’m doing!” 

“So this is why you weren’t answering my texts!” He exclaimed, holding you at arms length. Even that only lasted a fleeting moment before he was bringing you right back in for another bone-crushing hug. “I knew you weren’t ignoring me! Oscar was being a dickhead, he said I was being clingy.”

“I’m sorry, I was twenty thousand feet in the air at the time.” You gave a watery chuckle, tightening your arms around his neck. “I’m so, so fucking proud of you, baby. Never had a doubt in my mind that you’d be a Grand Prix winner one day. Kinda wish that day was one where I could’ve put on a cuter outfit, ‘cause I can already picture all the god awful photos of this moment right now, but whatever.” 

“Thank you. Thank you for standing by me, thank you for loving me—thank you for everything. I love you. I love you so much.” Lando said, lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m beyond fucking lucky to have you, darling. And you always look cute, what’re you even talking about?” 

“You may be a winner now but you’re still a god awful liar, Lando Norris.” 

“Shut up and c’mere,” He murmured, tugging you flush against him with a hand splayed across your back. Before you could say a word, he tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger and he kissed you, finally.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss by any means, but it didn’t matter. He tasted sweet like champagne and victory as he kissed you with his whole soul, nearly knocking you backwards had he not been keeping you firmly in place. 

He pulled away far too early, but pressed one more, much shorter kiss to your lips before he gave you a not-so-subtle once over. Concern bloomed across his face, and instantly you readied yourself for the barrage of questions coming your way in three, two, one. 

“How was your flight? Are you tired? I still can’t believe you forgot to tell me you were coming. Do you want to head to the hotel? I think I've got some more media stuff to do, but I can send for a car to take you back now and I’ll meet you later?” 

“I’m fine, you muppet! Stop fussing over me.” You griped playfully, nudging him with your elbow. “Do what you have to do, I’ll wait here for you.” 

Lando tutted, pressing close to murmur into your ear, breath hot. “What I want to do and what I have to do are two very different things. One involves you, and I can’t do it with all these people around, but—” 

“Lando.” 

“What?” He pouted. You reached up to tug at his earlobe, to which he huffed out a sigh. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later then. I was actually supposed to fly home tonight to get back to you, if you wanted to know.” 

“Really?” Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. He could’ve done anything he wanted the night following the race, but he’d booked a flight to go home to you. 

“Of course. No matter what the outcome could’ve been, I wanted to see you.” He replied, smiling warmly at you. You turned your head towards him, puckering your lips for a kiss that he happily planted on you. “But since you’re here and not thousands of miles away…how ‘bout we celebrate? Dinner out, maybe go clubbing? Miami’s got a killer party scene, I’ve heard. Unless you’re tired from your flight, we could always just stay in.” 

“My winner wants to go clubbing, then we go clubbing.” You said firmly. Good thing you’d thrown that dress Lando loved on you into your bag, just in case. (Though you suspected he wouldn't have minded buying you a brand new one if you asked.) 

“Your winner, huh?” Lando beamed. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Formula 1 winner Lando Norris takes on Miami! To the clubs we go!” 

-------

“We shouldn't have gone clubbing.” 

You glanced up from where your face had been buried in Lando’s shoulder since the plane had taken off, squinting at your boyfriend through bleary eyes. Even the dim light of the cabin was almost too much for the throbbing in your head, making you wince. “Huh?” 

“Last night. We should’ve just ordered takeaway. Watched a movie or something.” 

“You wanted to go out though?” 

He let out a pained groan, shifting in his seat gingerly. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

“What’re you even—oh.” You blinked a few times, and when your vision cleared, you saw it. A ugly looking bruise right above his eyebrow, darkening the surrounding skin. “Did you get that last night?” Lando nodded, prodding at the area gently before you had the sense to swat his hand away. “Stop touching it. I don’t even remember how you did that. I don’t really remember a lot of last night, really.” 

“Me neither.” He snuggled deeper into you, letting his cheek fall against the top of your head comfortably. “Next time I suggest something, tell me I’m being stupid.” 

“I love you even when you suggest stupid things.” 

Lando scowled, but not for long until it morphed into a wince. “I’m too hungover to even argue with that right now. I love you too.” 

“Lando Norris, Grand Prix winner, parties so hard he doesn’t know how he injured himself. Nice.” 

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” 

You dotted a kiss to his cheek, smiling bright as you could manage. “No. Do you want me to stop calling you that?” 

“...No.”

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[sukunasteeth]

Wrestle Me

Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.

Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.

The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.

Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.

You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.

The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.

An idea comes to mind.

Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.

"Wrestle me." You beam at him.

It was somewhat of a joke.

Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.

 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.

Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.

His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.

"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.

You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.

You love when he’s in a playful mood.

"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.

Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."

You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.

"Let's find out."  

~

Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.

Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.

The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 

"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."

"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.

Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.

He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.

"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 

"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 

It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 

"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"

"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."

That did it.

Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.

No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.

Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.

[theemporium]

click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

.

It was a well-known fact that Lando Norris was an affectionate guy. 

He couldn’t help himself, it was just something that came so naturally to him. From throwing himself onto his team after a podium finish to wrapping people in tight hugs, from tilting his head towards fans in photos to slumping against people in between long meetings when he needed a few moments to doze off. 

It was like his energy just thrived off of touch. He liked being around people, he liked being able to show them his appreciation and love because he was never really good with words. He liked being able to show the important people in his life what they meant to him—actions showing more than words and all that jazz. 

And he was pretty affectionate with his friends too, that was nothing new. 

But with you? Yeah, nobody was believing for a damn second that anything between you and Lando was just platonic.

You didn’t get it at first. You didn’t think he treated you any differently to how he did with his other friends. He hugged you the same way, threw his arm over you the same way, tugged you close the same way. He would lean his body against yours when he laughed a little too hard and his head would drop on your lap during movie nights, humming when you would scratch his scalp. 

But he did that with other people too. You weren’t anything special.

Except you were—it just took both you and Lando a stupidly long time to see what everyone else saw for months. And even once you spotted it, it wasn’t something you were rushing to tell the world. You wanted something to just be yours for a little bit—your little secret. 

You genuinely didn’t think people would even notice a shift in your relationship. You didn’t even think you acted all that differently from the months you and Lando were just friends, other than the bonus of making out with him at movie nights. 

“It’s been a while, chat. I’ve missed this.” 

Lando watched as the comments rolled in, filling up his screen so fast that he barely had time to catch more than a few words from each comment. And it was the truth. Streaming had become such a stress relief and easy pass-time in between race weekends. It was something simple and fun for him to do, to feel connected to the people who support him. In a weird way, it made him feel useful during his time off when there were no meetings to attend or data to review. 

It was something to do between training sessions.

“Hm, my plans? Mate, I just got off a triple header. My plans include moving as little as possible,” Lando said with an easy smile on his face, making no move to pick a game to play. There was no rush. “Although, I did invite—”

“Where’s my favourite P2 dickhead?!” 

His grin widened. “There she is.”

Lando turned in his chair, waiting a few moments as he listened to you drop your stuff by the door before you made your way into the room he was currently sitting in. You barrelled in, your smile almost as wide as his before you noticed the set up he had.

“You really invited me over while you were streaming?” You snorted, shaking your head but you didn’t have any complaints as you moved to sit on a couch near his desk. 

“No,” Lando whined as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you towards him. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks, it’s cruel to sit on the other side of the room.”

“Well, where else am I meant to sit?” You teased. “I keep telling you to get another chair in—-oh.”

You tried to hide your own surprise when Lando pulled you down onto his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had ever done it, and you highly doubted it would be the last, but he had never done it with so many people watching. 

He didn’t settle until his arms were wrapped around you, your body pressed against his before he practically nuzzled his face against your shoulder. “Better.”

Your face felt warm. “Someone’s clingy.” 

“I haven’t seen my best friend in three weeks,” Lando huffed, his brows furrowed together as though he was reliving the last three weeks. Between the races, training and media chaos, he barely had any time to himself—let alone time to talk to you. “Sue me.”

“Oh, he’s sassy and clingy,” you teased but didn’t say much else as you shifted until you were sideways on his lap, giving him a clear view of his screen. Your arm wound around his shoulder, your fingers twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. 

user: friends my ass, look at them!!

user: they are so cute!!

user: are they dating??

user: MY OTP!!!! 

user: clingy lando is the best lando

user: they are literal couple goals 

user: they are my fav ship 

Lando’s eyes scanned over the comments before he snorted, though there was something quite smug in his expression. “Ship? Like friendship? Aw, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a fucking menace, Norris.”

“Language,” he teasingly scolded, lightly pinching your hip just out of view of the camera but the squeal you let out in response told the viewers enough. “Gotta keep it kid-friendly in here. Max is probably watching from home. We can’t scar the poor kid.”

max fewtrell: too late for that, mate

You shook your head, lips pressed together to hold back your laughs. You shifted in the seat, like you were ready to stand up but his arms tightened around you.

Lando’s face softened. “Where are you going? Stay here.”

“I was gonna go make something,” you said with a soft laugh. “God knows you’ve probably not eaten a proper meal since you got back.”

“Eh,” he grumbled but he didn’t relent his grip on you. “It’s fine, we can order something. Just stay here.”

“I’ll only be in the other room,” you attempted but the boy wasn’t having it.

“No, I prefer you here,” Lando said, squeezing your body to punctuate his point. “And the chat missed you too. It would be rude if you left.”

“This can’t be comfy for you,” you murmured, your voice a little softer in hopes the microphone wouldn’t pick it up.

But Lando just grinned at you—that wide, huge grin that took over his face and made his eyes crinkle and sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. 

“You’re exactly where I want you, baby.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile back. 

user: BABY??????

user: OH MY GOD IT’S CONFIRMED 

user: THIS IS SO KEWBFJWEKFBWE

max fewtrell: you’re such a fucking idiot 

max fewtrell: but happy for you guys<3

.

[delewlew]

can you watch my boyfriend for me: charles leclerc x black fem! reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

request: Can you do the “watch my bf for me” with Charles and he gets nervous and call for yn to come back pretty pretty please 🙏🏾

warnings: none

author's note: this one is a little short cuz i was running on no sleep and good vibes...but it's not too short i hope! please let me know how yall like this one. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

never in a million years did you see yourself dating someone like charles leclerc. it wasn't that you didn't believe someone like him could find you attractive because to be quite frank, you were stunning and you knew it. the thing was you didn't picture yourself in love with someone who had the social status charles held. you'd assumed that rather than being in love with you he'd be in love with himself, instead of feeding his family he'd be more fixated on feeding his ego. however, upon meeting him for the first time you realized that those were simply preconceived notions that couldn't be further from the truth. that gentle smile and welcoming gaze wasn't a facade to draw girls like you in to become a pawn in some twisted romance game. he was genuinely a sweet and loving man who had nothing but love to give.

you met charles a year ago in baku at the azerbaijan grand prix after you'd been invited to attend because you worked as an influencer. it was your first time attending a grand prix and you got the complete hook up. it was qualifying day and you'd showed up to the paddock ready to enjoy the day in the early morning when there was a problem with security. for whatever reason the security guards were refusing to let you enter the paddock despite having proper identification. then, like an answer to your prayers a young man with ice blue eyes and the most perfect dimples came to your rescue, informing the staff that you were with him. a year later and here you were, actually with him but as a girlfriend instead of a stranger looking for help.

the social media following on all of your pages grew massively but you remained the same person you'd been before any of this happened. sure, now you were sitting in the ferrari garage every weekend, getting invited to more exclusive events, and getting spoiled by your boyfriend to where he had to lift the spending limit on his credit card. but you were still the same girl as you'd always been, posting videos that made you happy and getting paid for it.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

summer break had just begun for charles which meant that you had him all to yourself until he had to return back to work. this also meant you had to find a way to create content that would still garner enough attention when there weren't races for you to post about attending. you didn't like posting about your relationship in general because it felt unauthentic. your relationship wasn't the only defining thing about you and your career, it came after, so you preferred to keep work and personal life separate even if there is a little overlap between the two. but, the new tiktok trend you'd seen on your for you page was enough to convince you to break your personal rule, just this once.

you'd surprised charles with tickets to mauritius for break since he'd mentioned to you a few months ago that he'd love to go one day. so for the next week you and him were going to be spending time in paradise and you couldn't be happier. the two of you all had agreed on a 'no phones' policy, only agreeing to upload a photo dump at the end of the trip. until then you both were only going to take pictures and videos on your devices, or just 'live in the moment' and keep things exclusively to memory. however, before you both were going to turn off your access to social media, you wanted to hop on one last trend:

you were sitting on charles' lap as you gently braided the stems of small yellow flowers together. in front of you, your phone was propped your phone up against the small vase that sat at the center of the table. the video was already recording and you pretended that you were making a tutorial for how to make a flower crown. it was obvious charles was paying no attention to what you were doing by the way his head rested on shoulder with his face not visible to the camera. his hand rested at your hip with his thumb hooked through the belt loop of your jeans. he was busy looking at his phone in his free hand, going through random social media posts.

charles heard you murmur something but he wasn't paying too much attention so he assumed it was something about your flowers. he only looked up when you slipped from his hold. you simply said, "hold on- he'll show you how to do it." you handed charles the nearly finished flower chain and ran off before he could even object. your boyfriend froze awkwardly for a minute, his eyes darting from the camera to six other spots in the room as he clearly waited for you to come back. there was a soft hum he let out then he muttered, "i do not know where she went off to. but she told me to show you so...i guess i show you what to do."

silence fell over the room as charles was very focused and made attempts to demonstrate how you'd been weaving the flowers together. his cheeks flushed pink and his palms grew sweaty as he messed up three times in a row, that dimpled grin that you fell for long ago making an appearance. after the longest minute of his life he finally caved, "Ma chérie, reviens s'il te plaît, je ne peux pas faire ça." you let out a loud laugh and ran back into the room with a smile on your face as you sat back on charles' lap and he tucked his face into the back of your shoulder. [my darling come back please, i can't do this]

you examined the woven flowers and let out a soft giggle, "aw charlie you kinda made it worse." his arms wrapped around your torso holding you tighter to his lap as if he was worried you'd run off again leaving him alone. he let out a muffled reply, "then stay with me and show me how to fix it."

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

the end.

[scuderiahalf]

always you — mick schumacher

pairing. mick schumacher x verstappen!merc racing engineer!fem!reader

summary. mick had always been inexplicably tied to you, no matter what distance grew between you. even if it took over two decades for you to figure it out, it had always been mick. it would always be mick. 5.4k, 18+

playlist. "invisble string" by taylor swift, "the perfect pair" by beabadoobee, "moves" by suki waterhouse, "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys, "let the light in feat. father john misty" by lana del ray

warnings. pining, mick is kind of very much pitiful in this alright, smut, l-bombs, sort of sub!mick, google translated german, almost choking, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex

masterlist.

. . .

"I'm telling you what the data says, and it says you're wrong, so follow the damn line, George."

Mick fought a smile as you told George off over the radio. Toto cast you a look that you didn't even seem to see, let alone acknowledge. The team principal didn't look all that surprised when you didn't take your eyes off the screens of data you were getting input from.

In the next lap, George's lap time dropped nearly a second thanks to your suggestion. George didn't offer an apology for doubting you and you didn't expect one; you only expected him to be consistent in how he attacked turns seven and eight, to continue following your instructions.

Mick had observed your and George's relationship over the last few seasons you had been working with him. As George's racing engineer, you had quite a close working relationship with the Brit.

Off track, you were good if unlikely friends. Where George was all pretense and propriety and politeness, you were nothing but brutally honest, succinct, and to the point. But you were close in age and often seen together chatting and laughing.

On track, you were pretty much the same, if not even more blunt, if that was possible. George fed off your no-nonsense attitude, communicating clearly and without any of the fluff normally gracing his conversational skills.

Mick admired how well you worked with George. He admired just about everything you did. You could sit there doing absolutely nothing and F1TV would catch Mick staring at you like a lovesick fool again.

He still doesn't know how he hadn't seen the cameraman filming him as he watched you from across the garage two weekends ago. People kept referring to him as "Heart Eyes" Schumacher and he really could not blame them after seeing the clip of himself watching you.

You hadn't said anything to him about it. In fact, you hadn't said anything to him all season. Or during pre-season. Or in the two years prior when he was driving for Haas. Or in the thirteen years it had been since your dads had their falling out.

Mick would have liked to talk to you. He would have liked to talk about nothing or everything like you used to. He would have listened to you ramble about statistics and analytics and anything you wanted, even if he didn't understand a word of it.

But you had looked at him maybe three times since he signed on as Mercedes reserve driver. You either didn't remember or—more likely, knowing your keen mind—you didn't care about your shared history.

Even if it was in your childhood and so much had changed since then, Mick still remembered. He remembered playdates and shared family vacations and spending every second together that you could before your dad dragged you away.

He remembered noticing how different your dad treated you than his dad treated him. He remembered sleeping over once and hearing your dad screaming at you until you ran to your bedroom in tears. He remembered telling his dad about it all.

He remembered how he was the one to ruin everything.

You didn't seem to remember any of it—or, at least, you never seemed to reminisce on it. Never got caught up staring at him wondering how things could have been different. Never got distracted by unexplainable yet unavoidable and likely unrequited feelings for someone that was once your friend over a decade ago.

When he was with Haas, your lack of interaction could be excused; you were on different teams. Since he had signed with Mercedes, it felt like you had purposefully been ignoring him for months.

He could approach you. He could simply walk up to you at any point when you weren't fully absorbed by readout screens and analytic diagnoses and strike up a conversation.

He didn't want to push his luck. He didn’t fully understand why you wouldn’t talk to him but he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

If being near you meant never truly being close to you again, Mick could live with that. Ultimately, you owed him nothing, so he could watch from afar and adore you silently. He could be content with that.

After all, it was his fault that everything fell apart in the first place.

.

"Hey, heart eyes! Come here!"

Mick hesitated before making his way to where Lewis was in the VIP section of this Friday night's club of choice.

"Hi?"

"I can't help but notice that you're pathetically in love with your race engineer."

"She's George's engineer—"

"That’s beside the point. Anyway, I think your girl could use some saving."

"She's not my girl."

Lewis hadn't said your name. Mick didn't need him to.

Mick leaned on the balcony railing beside Lewis, looking down over the crowd on the main floor of the club. He found you embarrassingly fast. You were wearing a black shirt, pink shorts, and sandals.

He had seen you come in earlier with your brother and thought you were probably the prettiest girl there that night. If you were put in a room with the world's top models, Mick would still think the same.

On the floor below, your personal space was being invaded by a dark-haired man in glasses. You looked incredibly uncomfortable, glancing around for anyone you knew who you could latch onto and get away from the man who was talking at you incessantly.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision on Mick’s part. One second, he was watching you from the VIP balcony and the next, he was pushing his way through the dance floor to get to you.

The unnamed glasses man put a hand on your back, touching the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. You visibly tensed up.

Before he could think better of it, Mick called your name and pretended to stumble into you and the man.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you.” He played up being drunk as he stuck himself between you and Glasses. “Hey, mate, how’s it going? Who are you?”

“I’m Nolan. And we were having a conversation.”

Mick had to hand it to ‘Nolan,’ he was persistent. “My bad, I guess. Y/N, your brother’s looking for you. Come on.”

He walked off and you followed after him. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He was running by the seat of his pants and hoping he didn’t end up making things worse.

Last time he had thought he was helping you, he didn't speak to you for thirteen years.

“My brother left an hour ago.”

“I know.”

Mick kept walking towards the stairs up to VIP.

You kept following.

Maybe this time, things would be different.

.

When Mick was 11, he mentioned to his mom that your dad yelled at you and made you cry. That same day, his dad sat him down and asked him to tell him everything he knew about how Jos Verstappen treated his children.

He had told him everything he knew because he didn’t know why he shouldn’t. If his dad wanted to know, it had to be important. Maybe he would be helping you by telling his dad.

A week later, Mick was playing with you in the backyard when your dad started yelling. Except that time, he wasn’t yelling at you or his most frequent target of your older brother Max, he was yelling at Mick’s dad.

That day had ended with your father dragging you away from Mick. Mick remembers thinking he had grabbed you so roughly; didn’t it hurt to be seized by your arm and jerked around like that?

Jos didn’t care. He just yelled at Mick’s dad to stay away if he had such an issue with how he raised his children. So, the Schumachers stayed away. The last memory Mick had of you was with tears streaming down your face, begging your dad not to make Mick leave.

A little less than ten years later, Mick was a Formula One reserve driver. That same year, you had graduated early from university and earned a spot as a Williams performance engineer. Then, you went to Mercedes in 2021 and took over as George’s racing engineer at only twenty two years of age while Mick was racing with Haas.

"I thought you hated me."

You looked up at him, mouth full. "What? Why would I hate you?"

"For telling my dad about everything. For tearing us apart."

You swallowed your mouthful of sandwich, sat across from him in Mercedes hospitality on your lunch break.

After that night in the club, you and Mick rekindled your old friendship. You looked at him, now. You smiled at him and talked to him and sought him out just to sit and talk during your break.

Getting a second chance to be your friend was more than Mick ever thought he would have.

"Mick, that wasn't your fault. My dad... it's complicated. But our dads' falling out wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for it. You know that, right?"

No, he had not known that. He had spent the last thirteen years blaming himself for losing you. He had assumed you would blame him, too, for ending your friendship because he had spent so long as a self proclaimed scapegoat.

"Mick."

"I know that now."

"Mick!"

"I— Okay, I know it's stupid but I have always blamed myself for the whole situation. Then, when we both were getting into F1, you never reached out."

"You never reached out, either!"

"I know that but I figured you wanted nothing to do with me, so I never tried to talk to you."

"You're so daft sometimes, Schumacher."

Mick took your empty insult without argument.

After spending every free second he had with you over the last several weeks, he realized how dumb he had been. He never thought of himself as the melodramatic type but he had really been going through it when he thought you were avoiding him.

"I've never been the smartest when it comes to you."

You just scoffed at him and ate more of your sandwich.

The next day, it was a double podium for Mercedes with Lewis in P2 and George in third. With your brother on the top step of the podium, you were elated, grin broad and voice loud over the radio as you congratulated George for a race well done.

Then, you looked around the garage. Mick didn't know why until your eyes found him along the back wall. You were looking for him. You smiled (at him) and he was smiling back before he even had to think about it.

Being with you had always been easy. As kids, you never argued. You shared toys and always managed to find some weird, convoluted way to mash what you both wanted to do together.

Now that you had gotten over whatever misunderstandings that kept you apart for the last few years, it was easy again. There was never anything you two couldn't talk about. There was never awkward silence. There was never any want to not be near each other.

Mick spent all night celebrating Mercedes' 2-3 finish with you. It was easy to spend hours by your side, to stand too close, to look at you for too long. Once he had a few drinks, it was all too easy to speak his mind around you, lips loose and heart full.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Micky."

"I mean I really missed you. All the time. I would think about you sometimes and miss what we used to have."

Your eyes were soft and focused only on him. He was barely tipsy from the alcohol but he was definitely drunk on you.

"Then, we were both in F1. But it was the pandemic and I was still worried you didn't want to see me. Then, when I was with Haas, I was so scared to approach you."

"Did I do something to make you think I hated you?"

"No, I was just in my head. And those months preparing for the season with Mercedes were the worst. You were so close but I was still too scared to talk to you."

"I wanted to talk to you, too," you admitted. "I thought about doing it sometimes but... I don't know. We hadn't spoken in so long and I was always so busy. I guess I was scared, too."

"I wish we had spoken sooner. We could have had this so much sooner."

"Had what sooner?"

"I don't know." That was a lie. "This. Us."

In all honesty, Mick didn't know what you two were. To anyone who asked, he would say old friends. But you were much more than that.

When he was ten, Mick kissed you for the first time. He had been in love with you since before he even understood what it meant. There was more heartbreak in the severing of your friendship than your families knew, more than either of you had known at that point.

And now, you were together again. Friends again. Except, friends don't sit knee to knee for hours at a time, wholly absorbed in nothing but each other in a raucous club with post-race celebrations going on all around them.

Friends don't let friends ghost their fingertips over the exposed skin of their shoulders, rest their hands on each other's thighs, play with the ends of their hair or the hem of their clothes.

"I missed us." Mick wondered if you knew what he meant by that.

You smiled (at him, again). "Me, too."

You were so close to him. Any sort of respectable distance was out the window. Your thighs were pressed together. You were sat sideways, head resting in your hand as you leaned an arm on the back of the couch.

He could sit up a little straighter and that was all it would take to reach your lips. He was seriously debating doing it.

Then, your brother smacked the back of your head as he was walking past, said something to you in Dutch that had you cursing at him in the same language.

"Hey, Mick," Max tossed at him with an uncomfortably knowing grin.

"Hey, Max."

Suddenly faced with the older brother of the woman he was just been fantasizing about kissing in the middle of a public space, Mick felt his face grow hot. He couldn't quite make eye contact with the eldest Verstappen child.

"Go away, Max," you told your brother with a glare.

Kelly took pity on you, dragging her boyfriend away.

"What did he say?" Mick asked you.

"'Get a room.'"

Mick laughed nervously, shifted away from you slightly. "Sorry, I—"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Being with you had always been easy. It was maybe the easiest thing Mick had ever done to nod his head yes and let you drag him out of that club.

You sat too close in the cab ride back to the hotel. He stood too close in the elevator up to his hotel room. You held his arm as he fumbled with the keycard to get the door open.

You pushed at his chest to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. He went down willingly, kept his eyes on you the entire time. You stood between his legs, pushed his hair back, let him lean into your touch.

"Is this okay?" you asked.

Were you seriously asking that? He had turned into putty in your hands from just a few touches. You hadn't even kissed him yet.

"Mick," you insisted at his silence.

"Yes. It's okay. It is so okay. Don't stop. Please."

He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed by just how easily you had reduced him to begging.

Above him, you smiled before leaning down to press your lips to his. His neck was craned back; you had a hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder to keep him in place. He let you dictate the pace, let you kiss him however you wanted.

It was slow at first, just your lips on his. You set the tempo low, moved your mouth at a torturous pace. You sucked his bottom lips between both of yours. When your tongue finally poked out, he let his jaw slacken, let you lick into his mouth without a need to fight against it.

You slid your tongue against his. The exchange of saliva was erotic and messy and left Mick panting against you. He gripped the backs of your thighs, adjusted his hips, tangled his fingers in the hem of your dress.

Mick slipped into German as he got lost in want. "Liebe, bitte. Bitte, ich brauche dich." [Baby, please. Please, I need you.]

And you—brilliant, keen, genius you—knew what he was saying. When did you learn German? Did you remember enough of it from all the time you had spent with his family as a child? He had no clue.

"Sei geduldig. We will get there." [Be patient.]

"I have been patient for years. Please, Y/N."

You kissed him again to shut him up, faster, harder, sloppier this time. Your hand slid over the column of his throat, just resting there as nothing but a reminder. He keened into your mouth, the vibration getting caught by your hand.

"I love you," he gasped, out of breath.

You drew back.

Mick's heart stopped.

"You love me?"

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing against your hand. "Yes. I have since we were kids. I don't— I don't want this if this is all it will be. I want everything with you. I want you to love me, too."

Somehow, it was still easy for him to lay all his cards on the table, to let you see everything and wait for your verdict. He was terrified, yes, but he trusted you implicitly.

He loved you and only you—he had only ever loved you this desperately and wholly, thirteen years apart be damned.

"I'm in love with you," he said.

You seemed breathless and speechless all at once.

He knows he said too much. It was definitely overwhelming to have all of that said to you with no warning but once he started, he couldn't stop. He had kept it all to himself for so long, watching from afar, never able to get close to you.

Now, here you were. He only hoped he had not read into things that were not there. He looked up at you, ice blue eyes wide and hopeful, patiently awaiting your response.

"I love you, too," you said on an exhale. "I'm in love with you, too. I thought I was crazy for it but I think I've always loved you."

Mick was not entirely convinced that this all wasn't some sick wet dream he would wake up from in the morning. He didn't care. He couldn't care, not when you slid your hand up to his jaw, held his face so gently, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"It's always been you, Mick."

He couldn't stop himself anymore. He pulled you close, guided your legs to either side of his hips, held your head and kissed you.

Dominance was shared this time as you kissed each other. You sighed into his mouth, a contented and wanting sound. You rested your arms on his shoulders as your tongues danced. His hands pushed up higher under the skirt of your dress, squeezing the soft skin of your upper thighs.

"Okay?" was the simple question he asked before taking things any further.

"Please."

Supporting your weight, Mick lifted you out of his lap and laid you out on your back. Hovering over you, he slid a hand up your dress to your hip. He caught the waistband of your underwear, glanced up at you to make sure.

You nodded.

He got both hands under your dress to pull your underwear off. He pushed your legs apart and you let them fall open, exposing yourself to him and he nearly moaned at the sight alone.

You were laid open and not quite bare with your dress still on but your pretty pink folds were in clear view. He had never expected to have you in any way, let alone spread open and ready to be ravished, but to say he hadn't imagine it two hundred times over would be a lie.

He moved down your body to kiss your left thigh, first closer to your knee then moving up so the soft, supple skin of your inner thigh. He let his breath fan over your pussy, felt the way you twitched at the sensation. Then, he kissed back down your right leg, trailing kisses down to your knee.

"Mick," you urged.

He bit back the repetition of your words about patience from earlier, instead deciding to be nice and lift your knees up over his shoulders, slide his arms under your legs to warp around and hold them in place, then settle in between your thighs like he had nowhere to be for quite some time.

Your folds were glistening in anticipation by the time his lips met them. He kissed over your aching core one, two, three painfully slow times before finally letting his tongue slot against your clit. His lips moved in tandem with his tongue, sucking and licking at the little bundle of nerves until you threw your head back and choked out a throaty moan.

"Mick—please."

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Mick dropped his head to slide his tongue down between your folds, to press at your entrance over and over, lapping at your pussy in a way that could not care about saliva and slick dripping off his chin.

His nose nudged at your clit. Every breath in was nothing but the scent of you ingraining itself in his brain in a way he will never forget. He would never want to forget a single thing about you in that moment.

Not your scent or the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Not the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, not pushing or guiding just holding onto him like you just wanted to have your hands on him in any way you could. Not the way you breathed his name halfway between a moan and a cry, or how you arched your back as you were overwhelmed with bliss.

You were coming apart on his tongue and lips and nothing else. If he could save the taste of you and get high on it every night he would. If he could bottle the feeling of you trying not to squirm under the pleasure that he was bringing you, he would drink himself dumb a thousand times over.

"Mick—!"

He hummed in perfect contentment as you cried his name in warning. Your muscles tensed, legs tried to close around his head as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. He just dug in more, ate you out more fervently, slipped his tongue inside of you until you were gasping from the feeling of it.

When he made you come the first time, it was with a cry of his name and panting moans as you bucked your hips up against his face. He worked you through it, kissing and licking at your clit until you were pushing at his head to pull him off.

When he lifted his face from between your thighs, his face was wet, covered in you and he loved it. You laughed breathlessly as you saw him, still shaking slightly from your orgasm.

"Jeez, Mick. When did you learn to go down on a girl like that?"

He was a little lightheaded and a lot pussy drunk, but he still knew better than to mention any girl he'd been with before. "I want you to be the only girl I ever go down on again."

"Good answer," you said, and pulled him up to kiss you as a reward.

You could probably taste yourself on his lips but didn't seem to care as you kissed him hungrily. You tugged at his shirt, so he pulled it over his head. You ran your hands over his torso unabashedly, feeling his stomach and shoulders, bringing goosebumps to his skin as you ran your fingernails down his chest.

Despite having you crumbling apart under his mouth not three minutes ago, when you climbed into his lap and started kissing his neck, Mick felt like he was short circuiting.

Your dress had fallen back over your hips to hide it but he knew you were uncovered underneath the silky fabric. If his pants were off, he could be inside of you right now.

He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders as you gripped his jaw and tilted his head to the side to kiss at his neck some more. He went pliantly, moaned softly at the feel of your teeth tugging at the sensitive skin where his neck met his clavicle.

He reached around to your back to unzip your dress. When you slid your arms out of the straps and he pulled the top of the dress down, he was finally able to get his hands on your boobs, taking big handfuls of each.

You were still kissing and licking his neck, teasing your teeth against his skin every so often. When he ran his thumbs over your nipples until they were hard under his fingers, your breaths grew shaky. He carefully let his nails drag over the firm peaks, pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers and tugged until you were arching into him.

"So handsy," you commented breathlessly.

"I want to touch every inch of you until you can recognize me by feel alone."

Mick dropped his head between your breasts, kissed the skin there and the side of your boob before you pushed him back. He whined as you deprived him of becoming acquainted with another part of yourself he already knew he would never get enough of.

Then, you stood and stepped out of your dress to leave yourself bare. He couldn't find a reason to complain.

He was prepared to slide to the floor at your feet. Then, you beckoned him toward you.

You had him sit at the edge of the bed again. You dropped to your knees. You popped the button of his pants. You pulled his boxers down just enough, and then his cock was stood at full attention just in front of your face.

He cursed under his breath. You heard it and smirked before licking up the underside of his cock. You wrapped a warm hand around him, stroked him a few times while kitten licking at his tip.

"Y/N. Liebe, please. Y/N, please."

You were not as easily convinced to dive in and give Mick what he wanted as he was with you. You didn't change what you were doing, just continued to let the tip of your tongue dance along the top of his cock while your hand moved on him slowly.

You finally closed your lips over the head of his dick and Mick could have come from that and nothing more. You popped him out of your mouth with an audible noise. Mick groaned; you would be the death of him and he wouldn't even fight against it.

You shot him a Cheshire grin. The sight was lewd and unbelievably hot: you, with a hand around his cock and a big smile on your face like you enjoyed nothing more than sucking him off. Mick was going to combust if he wasn't inside of you in the next two minutes.

"Y/N—"

He tried to tell you as much but your mouth was on him again and he couldn't get the words out. You swirled your tongue around his head, then your jaw opened and and you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. It was warm and wet.

Your tongue flexed against the underside of his dick when it hit the back of your throat. He could feel himself press into your soft pallet until you had to come up for air with a slight gag.

He couldn't bring himself to make you stop when you went back in for more. His breaths were short and labored, legs tense under your free hand as he mentally and physically had to hold himself back from coming down your throat.

He could imagine how you would gag around him when he did, pulling up to take his load just behind your lips instead. You might open your mouth after he had finished, show him your handiwork as it was pooled on your tongue before swallowing it all.

"Y/N, you have to stop. I'm going to come."

You took him out of your mouth to press a sloppy kiss to his cock. You pouted up at him as you let his length rest against your face. He could feel your eyelashes against it when you blinked.

"You don't want me to make you come?"

"I don't want to be spent yet. Come lay down for me?"

You let him pull you off the floor, kissed him as you crawled up the bed and laid yourself out on your back. He managed to kick his pants and boxers off while searching his suitcase for a condom then get back over to you without tripping over his own feet.

You giggled at his eagerness. Your hands ran over his chest as he ripped the packet open and slid the condom on. Your legs were already parted for him as he positioned himself.

He glanced up at you, not nervous but checking in. Your gaze was set on where your two bodies were about to fit together, hungry and expectant. Who was Mick to deprive you of what you wanted?

Entering you was as easy as anything with you was. You were still soaked from Mick's saliva and your own fluids. Your mouth fell open and your walls fluttered around him. A moan croaked past your lips as you gripped his arms.

"Holy shit, Mick."

He had to be sure, so he asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm in fucking ecstasy. Oh my god, baby."

Mick started moving his hips, long, slow strokes in and out as you keened beneath him, panting from almost nothing at all. He could live off the noises you made for him. He snapped his hips against yours, was rewarded with a gasp and startled little mewl and your fingernails digging into his biceps.

"Mick, please."

He continued the same slow pace. In and out, almost languid, near torture but so worth the desperate way you pulled at his shoulders and hips, physically trying to get him to speed up, to give you more.

"Mick. Go faster."

"I love you." Anything for you.

He made a smooth transition from rolling his hips against yours to making them a piston, pace and weight faster and harder. He bore down on you heavier. You cried out, dragging your nails down his back to only spur him on.

He sat back, pressed down on you with his hands on the backs of your knees to fold you in half. You couldn't easily get away from him when he had you pinned down like this, thighs spread wide and pussy bared to be split open on his cock. You tipped your head back and moaned loudly.

"You've got to try and be quiet, baby," he told you; you were still in a hotel.

"You're making it really difficult."

Mick grinned but eased off just a bit. "Sorry—"

"Don't you fucking dare. Fuck me, Schumacher. Fuck me hard."

So, he did.

.

You were sticky, shaking, and more than satisfied when Mick was through with you. Three more orgasms, four different positions, and five I love you's later, you had passed out against Mick's chest after he had carefully wiped you clean.

The next morning, you and Mick came down for breakfast together. Max was already there; you usually ate breakfast with your brother if you were staying in the same hotel because there wasn't much time to see him elsewhere on race weekends.

When he clocked the way you and Mick were so casually close together, the little looks you kept sneaking, he smacked a hand on the table and pointed an accusatory finger in your face.

"I knew it!"

Mick went red.

You just rolled your eyes. "Shut up, Max."

. . .

a/n. this was partially inspired by this one max fic i read a while ago that i couldn't find again. it's schumacher!reader x max and reader is the one to tell michael about how jos treats max then reader and max reconnect years later. i think it was inspired by "seven" by taylor swift.

if anyone can find it/the author lmk and i'll give credit! hope you enjoyed <3

edit: credit is due to @mastermind123 (who i cannot tag for some reason) and their story, seven. go read it; it’s so cute!!

[apollosdaydreams]

Let Me In

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You are dating Lando Norris, you love him don’t get me wrong but sometimes he can be a bit forgetful. Lando loves to game when he's not busy with racing, often streaming while he plays. When he streams it's like the outside world doesn't exist. You were coming over and you had forgotten your keys to his place, and Lando had his phone on silent. 

Warnings: None fluff, adult language. I have no clue how twitch works so sorry if i get that wrong.  

Word Count: 590

You were currently standing outside Lando’s apartment, you had forgotten your keys and were waiting for him to answer his phone. As time went by you realized that he wasn't going to answer his phone. So you went on twitter and saw that lando was streaming on twitch. You sighed out loud and rolled your eyes. Mumbling on how forgetful he can be when you put a screen in front of his face. 

“Fucking I-Pad kid” You mummbled to you self, while slightly laughing at your situation, of course this would happen to you. It wasn't even Lando’s fault, you had forgotten the keys. 

While standing outside his door thinking what to do, you decided that you should see if he would see your comment. So you downloaded twitch and made an account. You then looked up his account and followed him, you clicked on the live and waited. Nothing happened. So you decided that the next best thing was to subscribe, so you put in your credit card info and then it went through. You then saw that you could add a message. On the screen it read “y/n y/l/n has subscribed! Please let me in Lando. :)” 

“Oh shit!” Lando said while laughing. “My girlfriend! She's on twitch telling me to open the door!” I'll be back guys. You laughed to yourself and stood there waiting. You then saw the door opening. You pretend to look mad, but that only lasted about a second before you both bursted out laughing. 

“I'm sorry baby.” He said while hugging you and pulling you into the apartment. 

“It's fine lands, it's my fault anyway I'm the one who forgot the keys.” You told him.

“But I should have been looking at my phone.” He said, while walking back to his streaming room. 

“Lando, look at me. It's fine. It's my fault, honestly it's actually hilarious.” You told him while laughing. “You better get back to you steam babe, don't want to keep them waiting for too long.” You said. 

“I'll be done soon love.” He said, before he left he kissed you and then went back into his streaming room. 

You decided to have fun watching him on your phone, as you had to pay, better put it to good use. You sat in the living room on the couch, waiting for Lando to be done streaming. 

“Sorry guys, I'm back.” Lando said. “My girlfriend was locked out of my apartment, so I had to go save her.” He said. “She had to subscribe to me!” He laughed. “I gained a subscription so I'm happy!”

You laughed out loud at this, you didn't realize how loud you laughed until you heard Lando addressing you on the stream. “Sorry guys, that was my girlfriend.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. After a few minutes of his staying on Twitch, he told the viewers that it was time for him to go hang out with you, his girlfriend. You turned off your phone and saw him walking into the living room.

“Hi baby.” He said while flopping down on the couch, his head laying in your lap. You moved your hand to his head, running your hand through his curls. 

“Hey lands.” 

“I'm sorry.”

“Lando, if you say sorry one more time I'm going to leave.” you jokingly said. “Don't feel sorry, it’s my fault I'm the idiot who forgot my keys.” 

“I love you so much,” Lando said.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight.” You said. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this, it would be greatly appreciated if you would like, comment and repost this!! Sorry about the end it was kinda rushed. Sorry for not posting much, I'm busy with college but Thanksgiving break is happening soon, so I hope to write a lot during that time. If you guys have any ideas for me, my requests are still open!! 

Request Guidlines 

© 2023 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works in any platform without authorized permission.

[barcaatthemoon]

lullaby || lucy bronze x reader ||

you comfort lucy when she comes to your room after rachel's last game.

you weren't the least bit surprised to find lucy outside of your room after the game. more than a few of the girls had all grouped together for comfort after rachel's last game. lucy had held strong for the camp, having been warned earlier on by rachel herself. you had also been warned, but yours was more to make it easier to look out for lucy.

"can i sleep over tonight?" lucy asked you. keira had already gone to georgia and leah's rooms for the night. you were sure that a lot more girls were piled into the captain's room than just the three best friends, but what mattered was that lucy had come to you.

"of course you can," you told her. it wasn't late enough to sleep just yet, but lucy went straight to the bed. she laid down and curled up a little, something that you only saw her do whenever she was really upset. lucy ignored you as you moved around the room, grabbing a couple of water bottles for the two of you before you got into bed with her. "do you want to talk about it?"

"i don't want to talk about anything," lucy grumbled. you frowned a little to yourself, but let it go. lucy rested her head on your chest and grabbed onto your hand, squeezing it slightly. "do something, it's too quiet in here."

you're momentarily at a loss about what to do until you remember the night that keira and lucy had truly called it quits. it wasn't necessarily a good night for anybody, but it was definitely the start of your relationship.

…

"she don't want me no more." there was nothing scarier to you than a teary-eyed lucy bronze. you knew that lucy had planned on going over to keira's to talk after their last little argument. they had broken up twice already, but agreed to work things out. this time, hadn't been successful for lucy.

"luce, i'm sorry," you apologized to her. it wasn't your fault, and the apology only really made her kind of angry, but you didn't know what to do. lucy wasn't one to open up emotionally, especially not to you.

for the most part, lucy had no idea why she had come to your apartment. you weren't her friend, you were keira's. that was something you had made clear every single time that lucy had messed up in the past. however, there was still the part of lucy's brain that knew things weren't like that anymore.

somewhere along the line, something that shifted between the two of you. nothing had been acted on, but lucy had caught her eyes lingering on you for a little longer than normal. you had thoughts in a similar vein about lucy, and if it wasn't for keira being one of your best friends, you would have acted on your feelings.

"i just need somewhere to be for a while. can't be getting myself in trouble," lucy said. her accent was thicker through the tears. you nodded as you pulled her into your apartment. almost immediately, your cat raced across the living room to get as far away from lucy as he could. "little rat faced bastard."

"luce, be nice!" you hissed as you swatted at her shoulder.

"i'm over here crying and getting hissed at, so you hit me!" lucy shouted. you placed your hands on her arms, rubbing gently to try and soothe her. lucy moved like she was about to shove you away from her, only to surprise you by melting into your arms completely. she broke apart into a fit of sobs as your arms moved to hold her.

"hey, hey, it's okay," you whispered softly. lucy grabbed onto the back of your shirt and tugged you closer to her. you hummed nervously, unable to move away. slowly, you managed to get lucy to let you guide the two of you towards one of the chairs in your living room.

you picked the big, comfy one. everybody teased you for it being an eyesore, but you loved it. the pattern was hideous, but you had never sat in a more comfortable recliner in your entire life. as your body hit the back of the seat with lucy's on your lap, you were grateful for the slightly oversized chair.

lucy cried in your arms as you continued to hum. slowly, the hums grew into broken pieces of songs that you could remember. lucy's sniffles and sobs slowly came to a stop. you figured that she'd want you to be quiet now that she was done cry, but she pipped up at the first bit of prolonged silence.

"no, don't stop. i like the sound of your voice," lucy told you. she sounded a little whiny, but you weren't going to tease her for it. you started in on another little song, this time stopping when you saw lucy staring at you. it wasn't in annoyance or amusement like what you had grown accustomed to. this stare was different, and it made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

"luce?"

"don't let me ruin this, please," lucy muttered. you had originally thought it was intended for you to hear, but once lucy pressed her lips to yours, you realized that it was a prayer of sorts.

…

you glanced down at lucy as she laid on your chest. her breathing had evened out finally, soft snores echoing each breath. you quietly snapped a picture for your phone, something that you'd want whenever the two of you went back to barcelona and she decided to pretend that this had never happened.

there were a few texts on your phone when you checked it. the first you saw was one from keira, warning you not to let lucy ruin your shirt with drool. you chuckled quietly to yourself, almost certain that it was only a matter of time before the puddle formed. the next couple were from rachel and millie, both women asking how lucy was doing. she had worried a lot of your teammates during rachel's celebratory dinner, even though she had been actively trying not to.

"stop moving around so much," lucy grumbled as she tugged your body closer to hers. "'m trying to sleep."

"it was just rach, she was wishing me a good night's rest," you said. lucy grumbled something, but it was muffled by her face being buried against your body. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

"tell her to fuck off. this is my time with you," lucy grumbled. you smiled as you placed your hand on her head to tip it back. she looked up at you with half-closed eyes and a pout, which you found adorable. "what the hell do you want?"

"a kiss, but if you're going to be an ass, i'll just go get one from someone else," you answered. lucy obviously did not like that answer as she shot up and pinned you beneath her on the mattress.

"who told you that you could kiss other girls?" lucy asked. she was getting possessive, like she tended to on your nights out with the team, but lucy never really did much other than fuck you.

"it's not like i've got a girlfriend, now is it?" you countered. lucy furrowed her brows, seemingly ready to give in to your one demand. you had been dropping all sorts of hints, doing everything short of actually giving her an ultimatum.

"sing me another song, and i'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow before we leave. a nice little date for just the two of us, but (y/n), are you sure about this? am i really who you want?" lucy asked you. she knew that you had gotten very close to hooking up with a couple of other girls on both the lionesses and at barcelona.

"lucy, you would not be in my bed right now if i wasn't sure. do you think i just sing every pretty little bird that crosses my path to sleep? what kind of woman do you take me for?" you pretended to be offended, up until lucy cradled your face and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"my deepest apologies, and for the record, i think you're like some sort of disney princess. the kind that would give ingrid a run for her money," lucy complimented. "so, do you want to be my girlfriend? i think you've kind of had the position for a while, but might as well make it offical, yeah?"

"might as well, yeah," you echoed. lucy smiled, this time pulling you into her arms. you let the music resume on your phone, singing along to the songs until you felt lucy's body relax beneath yours.

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you do a fluffy and angsty fic for Lando after Austria, his girl comforting him. I'm surprised there aren't more after what happened under the tags but the only ones that were there are smut, which I don't really want to read I want fluff and angst.

sorry it took me so long to respond anon! i've been swamped.

tw: fem! reader, swears, AUSTRIA!!!!, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1k

you watch as lando trailed after max and you knew one of two things was inevitable. either lando was going to overtake max and finally take the lead after what seemed like forever, or the two boys were going to crash into each other.

you watch with one eye open every time lando tries to overtake max. you makes your body tense up as you fear that this will be the time their tires touch. you try to stay hopeful but you know that this will not end well, neither drivers willing to give up their positions and both trying to fight for that first place position.

it happens so quickly, it was a blink and you'll miss it incident. all you see is lando's mclaren try another move on max then something flying in the air. you can hear shouts from the mclaren team around you but you were still confused, you were not sure what exactly was happening. you watch as max slows down and lando finally overtakes him. you hear that he has received a five second penalty. you see a flash of a red bull fly past in the pit lane and then suddenly, lando's own car is stopped, practically half of its back wheel missing. it is then that it finally registers. they had contact and it had caused lando to retire from the race (you later found out it was his own decision).

you had not been with lando long enough to know what to do in this kind of situation. you just stay where you are for ten minutes until maybe the last few laps of the race when you feel lando's presence looming around you.

he does not even have to ask you to follow him as he heads towards his drivers room, head bowed down, not even looking where he was going. the boy was lucky he did not walk into any walls. if it had been any other situation you would have laughed at his carelessness but right now you had no clue how to act.

once you were both in the privacy of his room, lando slumps down on the little couch headfirst. you linger at the door, your hands longing to soothe him and your mind crying out to tell him it will all be alright.

"are you alright?" you question. it comes off timid as much as you tried to seem confident. you knew it was a silly question. you knew he was not fine but you just felt like you had to ask. lando sighs into one of the throw pillows at the question. for some reason this is what spurs you to spring into action. you take the few steps over to join him on the couch and sit as the space next to his feet.

"lando, look at me." you tell him, you voice much more firm and stable than before. lando does as you ask and turns himself so he is facing you and looks at you so sadly he might as well have just ripped out your heart out and jumped on it right there and then.

"that was all max's fault. you did nothing wrong. you tried an overtake, you wouldn't be a racer if you just sat back and let max lead the whole race. you're the only person on the grid who is consistently challenging max every weekend, that's something to be proud of.” you grab his hand gently and let your thumb rub it's own path along the skin of wrist.

"i'm shit. i've had one win and now i can't seem to do it again and when i finally get the chance to, like today, max just fucks me up because he would rather dnf than finish second! and he didn't even retire the fucking car he actually kept on racing which makes me look even worse!" by the end of his rant his voice was louder and you could see the tears of frustration in his eyes.

you swiftly pull him up by his hand to be face to face with you. you hold eye contact with him, letting him know how much you meant what you were going to say.

"you are not shit, lando. you've had one win and now you're hungry for more, of course it's gonna hurt a little when you come second again but listen to me. every single race you are getting closer and closer to max. i know you want it to be now but just because it isn't doesn't mean you're shit. it just means that max knows you are more of a threat than before miami and he can't just saunter along like he did at the start of the season. you're doing so well, please don't doubt yourself."

lando listens through your entire rant without trying to interrupt once and once you are finished talking he drops his head into your lap. "i really, really thought i was gonna get it this time. i really wanted it." he mumbles into your thigh. you know it is killing him and you cannot stand it. you know the only thing you can do to help him though, is to listen to him and give him the most comfort you can manage.

you sigh, hand coming to run through his sweaty, messy curls. "i know, baby. it's coming and it will be so fucking great when it does. i'll be here waiting for you and then we can celebrate like it's first, huh? that sound good?"

you can feel the small smile lando manages on your leg as he nods against it.

you stay like that for what seems like ages but you know it cannot be that long because before lando can even ask the time there is a knock on his door, alerting him that he had press to do in two minutes. he sighs and hauls himself from his comfortable position.

"you're so strong lan, be strong." you tell him with a quick kiss to his lips. lando knows it is a good luck kiss. lando also knows that you know how much he hates doing any kind of press or media when he was feeling like this.

"wish you could come with me." lando's frown is so deep it sort of looks like a half pout half frown. you smile at his cuteness.

"when you come back we can go back to the hotel, order in and watch that adam sandler film you like."

this seems to perk the boy up significantly as he give you a peck on the forehead before rushing out to get his media done and dusted. a night in with you sounded like heaven to him right now. he did not want to me reminded of the events of the day's race but he would put up with it for the end result. you and him cuddled up, together. it is all he ever wants.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Academia - Jealousy

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: NSFW, academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, smut, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, toxic behavior, multiple orgasms,

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Over the next few weeks, you and Damian developed a comfortable friendship. He rarely texted, preferring to call when he wanted to study together. The moments you shared felt... nice.

You’d catch yourself wanting to talk to him about things that had nothing to do with school. You’d find a meme or finish a good book, and a small voice in your mind would tell you to share with him. You’d wonder what he’d think, what hobbies he might have - what he was like outside of the carefully constructed persona he held at Gotham U. But each time you yearned for something more personal, you felt like you were crossing a line.

One evening, you were studying at his place. Damian sat across from you on his enormous leather couch, his laptop resting on his sweatpants-clad lap. The screen’s glow flickered over his bare chest, highlighting the sharp lines of his collarbone and the shine of his chain as he casually tossed a cracker into his mouth. You, on the other hand, had shed your skirt and blouse hours ago, left in just your yoga shorts and tank top, too tired to continue wearing your outside clothes. You had let down your hair, which had been pulled back painfully all day. The relief of it cascading over your shoulders felt like a victory.

“Did you know that Kace is doing research on Gotham's water distribution?” you asked.

Damian glanced up, nodding slightly as if he'd already known. “Yeah, I’ve heard a little about it. It’s a pretty big project.”

“Very,” you replied enthusiastically. “It’s funded by the municipality. A real opportunity.”

His brow arched, clearly impressed. “That’s great.”

“I applied to join the project,” you added, crossing your fingers. “I’m hoping Kace will take me on. It’s a researcher’s dream, and having a reference from him would be huge.”

Damian’s gaze softened, and he smiled that rare smile he'd had only when you spoke about a new discovery or theory.

What he did next surprised you. He set aside both of your laptops and laid his head in your lap. The sudden intimacy caught you off guard, your breath quickening.

“I’m tired of thinking,” he murmured, voice low, his head resting comfortably against your thighs. “Let’s watch something.”

Your heart raced. Slowly, carefully, your hand reached to brush the strands of his hair back. When your fingers grazed his scalp, he let out a quiet, satisfied hum, the kind of sound that made your stomach flutter and had you scratching at his hair more purposefully.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“Something mindless,” he replied, eyes still closed.

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One day, after your physics lecture ended and the room emptied, you stayed behind, scribbling a few last-minute notes. Damian lingered, sitting beside you, his fingers traced the hem of your checkered skirt, his thigh resting close enough to yours to occasionally brush against it. The casual proximity, the touches always left you breathless while he seemed unaffected. You bit your lip, your pulse quickening as you put your notebook away and mustered up the courage to ask what had been on your mind for weeks.

“Damian,” you started softly, “would you want to... maybe go out sometime?”

His thigh immediately stilled.

“Go out?” His voice was calm, almost amused. “Like on a date?”

You nodded, looking to where his fingers had frozen, tangled in the fabric of your skirt.

“I thought you weren’t interested in dating,” he said, his tone calculated and smooth.

Your heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t at first. But, well... isn’t that kind of what we’ve been doing?” You elaborated. “We spend all this time together, and we’ve been... intimate.”

Damian turned slightly, leaning closer until his piercing green eyes were at your level. This conversation started to feel more like an interrogation when he asked, “Why?” his tone curious. “Why do you want to date me?”

The question hit you like a splash of cold water. “What?”

He tilted his head, studying your reaction. “Why do you want to date me?”

You blinked. Of all the things he could have said, this wasn’t what you expected. “I... well, because-”

“You don’t know,” he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the kind that made you feel small, like he’d just won a game you didn’t realize you were playing.

“I do know.” You blurted out. “I just didn’t expect that question.”

He sighed. “Our arrangement works, doesn’t it? You get what you want. I get what I want. There’s no need to complicate things.”

Your chest tightened. “I guess. But... you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “No.”

“Me either,” you said quickly. “So... what do you call that?”

Damian’s brow arched, and the sharpness in his gaze felt like a warning. “What are you trying to get me to say, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard, realizing how he was twisting your words. “I’m not trying to get you to say anything,” you muttered, but your voice wavered with frustration and hurt. His silence, the way he just sat there, watching you struggle, was answer enough.

You stood abruptly, grabbing your bag, trying to hide the burning in your cheeks and the sting behind your eyes. “Never mind,” you mumbled, more to yourself than him.

Without another word, you turned and left.

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Oh, I do not need this right now, Damian thought, dodging a swift punch from his brother, narrowly avoiding what would’ve been a bruising hit.

"Do you... maybe want to go out sometime?"

Your words echoed in his mind. The way your voice wavered slightly, vulnerable, soft. A vision of you flickered in his imagination. Eyes wide, expectant, waiting for him to answer.

Damian barely registered the next strike coming his way. He flipped back, gritting his teeth as he refocused. Concentrate.

Dick often took it easy on him during training. It was something Damian usually resented, a constant reminder that his older brother still saw him as the kid who needed coddling. Dick always joked that since Damian was the baby of the family, hurting him would "break his heart." Absolute bullshit.

Damian had taken on Nightwing for the first time when he was fourteen, and even then, Dick had held back. But now - now he was in his twenties, a fully trained assassin capable of holding his own against anyone. There was no excuse for Dick not to come at him with everything he had.

Yet here they were again, Damian on the mat, his brother watching him with that infuriatingly knowing look.

"You're distracted," Dick commented, arms crossed, his stance casual.

"No, I'm not," Damian snapped. "Let's just get this over with."

Dick raised a brow, spinning his staff a few times as he stretched his shoulders. "Got somewhere to be?" he asked, throwing a few experimental swings. "You usually live for the chance to knock me around for a couple hours."

Damian’s jaw tightened, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Dick had a habit of slipping into therapist mode. Usually, Damian let him - mostly because Dick was annoyingly good at it, and it gave his older brother some sense of satisfaction. But today, Damian had no patience for it. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to think.

But the image of you lingered.

The look on your face when he’d rejected you—polite, almost cold—played in the back of his mind. He hadn’t wanted to hurt you. Not like that. He had a life already too complicated, too dangerous for something like... a relationship. But still, your expression had haunted him. It made something deep inside him twist, the part of him that hated vulnerability, hated seeing it, hated feeling it.

Then a thought struck him - someone else. Someone else making you smile, laugh, touching you the way he had. A vision of you looking at a man the way you look at Damian. It was infuriating. The idea of someone else seeing you come undone, hearing you cry out in pleasure - of someone else having power over you - made his blood boil. His jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising, and his movements faltered again.

He cursed under his breath as he nearly took another hit from Dick. Focus.

But it was too late. His moves were sloppy now, more reactive than calculated, each punch and kick lacking the precision he normally prided himself on. Dick, of course, noticed immediately.

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” Dick asked as they moved into the second hour of their sparring session. “You’re not anticipating my moves like you usually do. I’m pulling my punches, and you’re still off your game.”

Damian clenched his fists, feeling the frustration build in his chest. He could hear Dick's words, but the memory of your voice, soft and hopeful, drowned everything else out.

"I... I don’t have time for this right now," Damian muttered under his breath.

"What’s 'this'?" Dick pressed, but Damian didn’t answer.

His footwork became more rushed, his fists less controlled. And that’s when it happened. Dick moved faster than Damian anticipated, his staff coming up just as Damian lunged forward. A solid punch landed squarely against Damian’s mouth.

Pain flashed through him. He stumbled, tasting blood on his lip.

“You want to talk about it now?” Dick asked.

Damian wiped his mouth, glaring. "There's nothing to talk about," he ground out, stepping back into position.

But Dick didn't let up, standing his ground, his expression softening in that way Damian hated - like he was waiting for Damian to let down his guard, to open up. "You know, whatever’s going on in your head, it’s not worth getting your face smashed in over."

Damian scoffed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. He wiped the corner of his mouth where a trace of blood threatened to form, his green eyes flashing with an edge. He straightened up, cracking his neck as he reset his stance. “If you hit any softer, Dick, I’d think you were the one who has something going on with his head."

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Nikolas Hill was a one year your senior, majoring in Econometrics and balancing his life as captain of Gotham U's swimming team and a straight-A student. He was also the oldest son of Gotham's current mayor Archibald Hill, a fact which he seldom mentioned himself though it was always brought up by someone else.

You, Nick, and seven other students were accepted to Professor Kace's water system project, and you worked well together. To your surprise, Nick was vastly knowledgeable about the research content. He told you he wanted to major in engineering, but econ was "where the cuties were," with a wink.

"Werent there enough cuties on the swim team?" You teased.

Nickolas raised a perfect blond brow and flashed his signature smile. "Dude, swimmers have like, no ass. That is a fact."

"I apologize," You laughed, mocking, clicking on the analytics report you two prepared.

A week later, he asked you for your number.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Damian was waiting for you outside the lab when you stepped out with Nikolas Hill. His presence was impossible to miss—leaning casually against the wall in his polo and leather jacket combination and towering almost any student who passed him. His sharp gaze locked onto the two of you the moment you appeared, laughing at something Nick said.

You instantly noticed a cut across his bottom lip when you neared him, prompting you to ask. "Damian, what happened?" Your voice was barely above a wisper, filled with concern.

His brows lifted slightly in surprise at the sight of your companion. “Hill,” Damian greeted him, his tone cool and familiar, like they’d known each other for years, though not in a way that suggested they were friends.

“Wayne,” Nikolas responded in kind, matching Damian’s neutral tone, though there was an underlying challenge in his voice.

Damian’s eyes shifted between you and Nikolas, narrowing slightly. “You two working together?” he asked, his question directed at you but intercepted by Nikolas.

“Yeah,” Nikolas answered smoothly before you could open your mouth. “We got paired up for the municipal water ledger research. Lucky us.”

There was a sharp edge to Damian’s smile, and he let out a low, sarcastic, “What a coincidence.”

The implication behind his words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable: Nikolas had only gotten the position because of his father.

You felt your own smile falter as the tension between them rose, making the hallway seem smaller.

Nikolas chuckled lightly, undeterred. “Don’t get it twisted, Wayne. I know it must be nice, being Bruce's kid and all, but some of us actually had to work to get here.”

Damian raised a brow, eyes glinting dangerously. “Seventeenth in your program, if I remember correctly?”

Nikolas leaned in closer to you, lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear. “Adorable, isn’t it? He does his homework.”

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You couldn’t help but notice the way Damian’s lips tightened when Nikolas inched closer to you. His expression darkened, the muscles in his jaw flexing under the weight of his glare.

Straightening back up, Nikolas shrugged with an air of nonchalance. “Unfortunately, my dad didn’t donate enough to bump me up a few spots.”

Damian’s grin returned, though it was more venomous than friendly. It was the kind of smile that didn’t touch his eyes, and you could feel the crackling tension between the two, like a live wire ready to snap. “Right,” Damian drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure being the mayor’s son really held you back. It’s not too late to apply for ‘Make-A-Wish,’.”

You swallowed, the urge to leave growing stronger with every passing second. You were sure they wouldn't mind. They seemed perfectly content engaging in their verbal sparring. But the way Damian was looking at you that made your skin prickle with discomfort - his gaze searing into you like a brand.

Nikolas shot back without missing a beat, his grin widening. “Not all of us get to play the ‘Prince of Gotham,’ though, do we?”

The title hung in the air. It was a label once meant for Damian's father, but now it had been thrust upon Damian since the world learned that Bruce Wayne had an heir. It wasn’t just a title. it was a pedestal, an expectation that idealized Damian as something more than human, something untouchable and better than everyone else. And right now, as his jaw clenched and his green eyes blazed with a darkness that sent a shiver down your spine, you wondered which Damian you were looking at - your friend and classmate, or Gotham’s heir apparent?

With the way his gaze bore into you, sharp and unyielding, you had the sinking feeling that this wasn’t Damian, your friend. No. You were staring into the eyes of the ‘Prince of Gotham,’. The one who could get away with whatever he wanted and no one would bat an eye.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Witch each thrust of his fingers, you grew less and less able to focus. "Damian," you wimpered.

"Hmm?" His low voice hummed behind your ear, making your skin vibrate.

You were sitting on his lap in his couch, thighs spread out, skirt still on. But the top buttons of your blouse were undone showing off the purple marks Damian has spent the last hour decorating on your neck and collarbone. Your hands were held together by one of his ties, an impossible knot you couldn't loosen regardless of how much you tried. You knew your hair was disheveled and worried about how you would go home looking a mess. Your roommate would certainly have questions.

"That! Ah -" You panted, shutting your eyes. "I thought we weren't in a relationship."

"We're not." He said confidently. He refused to elaborate further before kissing you behind your ear - a spot he'd discovered a while back to be extremely sensitive, which he often used against you.

Your shoulders tensed. Your bra straps slipped down your arms as your head rolled back to rest against his muscular frame, easily getting lost in the sensation for what had to be your twelfth consecutive orgasm. You lost count somewhere between nine and ten.

You warred with your mind to stay on topic. "Then... why can't I go out with Nick?"

The moment you walked into his apartment, Damian asked if you and Nick were a couple, then at your hesitation, he nodded and ordered you not to go out with him.

His fingers sped up against you, and the impending orgasm built up as you felt the rising heat in the pit of your stomach.

"Damian, answer the question," You gasped, straining against him.

"Because you can do better." He said in a simple tone, though you'd hinted what sounded like a growl accompanying his words. He bit down on your neck, hard, before sucking on the skin he'd just broken there. His fingers made rougher movements on your overstimulated slit, giving you sensation that was equally painful and delicious. You'd mumbled a sentence of incoherent "please" and "God," as your brow forrowed, sweat gathering on your exposed collarbone.

The only goal his response achieved, however, was angering you. Who did he think he was? Deciding what men were and weren't worth your time. You were your own person. You huffed, a mixture of frustration and something else. "I think I'm smart enough to decide that for myself!"

Your sentence was cut off with a squeal. He had found a new spot that made your back arch as he chuckled against your ear. "Im not saying you're not, baby. Im just giving you my impression of things."

You bit your lip, half to keep from moaning and half to keep from lashing out at him. Whether he thought so or not, words carried meaning, and the tone with which he called you 'baby' would definitely resonate in your mind. This wasn't good for your purely platonic friends-with-benefits arrangement. "You can't call me that. Baby. Im not... your baby."

Dropping your pen and notebook, your bound hands grasped at your thighs as you pushed your pussy into his fingers, chasing that delicious feeling. You panted until you came.

His fingers didn't stop, though. You began to weakly shake your head. "No, no, no, Damian, you said it was the last one -"

"Just one more baby," he emphasized the last word. "You can take it. I know you can. You're so cute when you're like this,"

Your bound hands scratched at your skirt, and you bit your lip. His words, his actions, his whole being was a question you couldn't answer; a problem you couldn't solve.

His fingers had your mind drifting, and you suspected that he knew that if he just kept saying and doing the right things, he could control you. This thought was what drove you into another shaking orgasm

"My pretty girl," he hummed the praise against you. "Mine."

"N-no," your voice managed weakly as the tremmors subsided and your eyes slid shut. "Not yours."

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"Damian, I don't think this... our arrangement works." You spoke softly, then added, "For me. Anymore."

He blinked down at you, facial expression unchanging as he watched you collect the last of your belongings. "Mhmm."

"I guess I'm not cut out for 'no-strings-attatched'". You added. What you didn't add was the fact that you had caught feelings for him, but he was smart, and it wouldn't take rocket science to figure that one out. "And I can't hear you call me yours without... without thinking something more..."

"Are you gonna go out with him?"

The "him" in question was Nikolas, and yes, you were. You justified the decision to yourself by considering that it wouldn't hurt either Damian who didn't see you as more than a fuck buddy, and it wouldn't hurt you, who was actually curious to see if a relationship with Nikolas could go somewhere.

You nodded, making sure to keep eye contact. Whatever judgment that intense green gaze sent your way was not deserved.

At last, Damian nodded. "I'll see you around then."

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it, as he was already walking away. "See you."

That night, Nickolas dropped you off after a wonderful first date back in your room and kissed you goodnight. You lay in bed and closed your eyes, picturing muscular, scar-covered arms easily handling you, calloused fingers caressing, holding, and teasing you, and a pair of moss colored eyes piercing into you as sleep took you over.

[atinylittlepain]

okay i was wondering if you could a joel x fem reader maybe even dbf joel where it’s loosely based on the song diet mountain dew by lana del rey? like the pining part of it and also the lyric “let’s take jesus of the dashboard” THATS SO HOT TO ME SO IDK

ive never requested anything before soo hope this is okay 🫣🫣

ahhhhhh, this one is a doozy

Ride It

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

joel milller masterlist

She calls her dad's co-worker for a ride and gets a little more than she was expecting.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, age gap, DBF!joel, and not much else y'all

............................

“Hello?”

“Mr. Miller?” She can hear sheets rustling, his gruff sigh over the crackling receiver.

“It’s late, honey. What’s wrong?” Her heart stutters at the sweet name he calls her, the same name he’s called her since she first met him when her dad started working for Miller Construction four years ago.

“It’s my car. I think I have a flat tire and I can’t drive on it.” A long sigh filters through the phone.

“You should call your dad. He’s probably worried sick about you.”

“No! I can’t– he’s gonna be so pissed. Please, Mr. Miller. Would you– would you come get me? I know you’re good with cars and all. Please?” Another long sigh.

“Alright, honey. Will you tell me where you are?” She does, pulled over on the shoulder of the highway, a little ways out of the city but nowhere near home.

“Hang tight, I’m coming.”

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times– just Joel, honey.”

“Thank you, Joel.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” She clicks her cell phone shut with a sigh, slumping back in the driver’s seat of her car. Her stomach swirls in anticipation. Normally, she’d try to tamp down the crush she’s had on Joel for quite some time, but after a night out in the city with a few of her old high school friends, she’s just warmed up enough to let her mind race with thoughts of him. It’s silly, something that could never really happen, seeing as her dad has been best friends with Joel for years. But it wasn’t impossible, was it? After all, he’s younger than her dad, and only fifteen years older than her. Jesus christ, get a grip. She huffs, shaking her head to still her thoughts as she looks out at the pitch-black Texas night.

It isn’t long before headlights are brightening up the inside of her car and she turns in her seat to see Joel’s familiar pick up truck pulling up behind her. 

….

The rosary that hangs off her rear-view mirror is swaying harshly, the only sound beside their harsh panting and the sticky slap of skin is it clinking into the windshield over and over again. She’s not entirely sure how they got here, a mixture of late night talking and boundaries being flirted with until they both gave in to something they couldn’t have in the light of day.

“Shit, honey– fucking squeezing me– bit of a stretch for you, huh?” A high-pitched whine falls from her lips, her nails digging into the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel. Joel lets out a breathy laugh.

“That’s it, bounce on it for me, there you go– fuck– boys at school just not cutting it, are they? Need someone with a little more skill.” He punctuates his last word with a jolting thrust up that has the swollen tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it makes her crumple up against him, his rough fingers digging into her ass to support her as he starts a jagged rhythm of his own.

“C’mon, miss college. Use your words. Who’s making you feel so good?” She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised yelp leaving her lips when he smacks the curve of her ass, hard, broad palm sure to leave a mark. There is nothing comfortable about the position they’re in, her straddling his lap, scrunched over him in the driver seat, one hand pressed up against the car door window while the other digs into his shoulders for stability. But all she can focus on is the sweet snap of pain and pleasure licking up her spine with each of his thrusts. 

“You, Joel– you feel so good– want more– please, please–” Her words die in her throat when he thrusts up particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in a deep grind. She lets out a choked sob of his name, cunt clenching hard around him and coaxing a low moan from the back of his throat. 

“Been wanting this for a while, haven’t you, honey?” His words are a smear against her bare chest where he had tugged down the front of her dress and bra, leaving harsh grazes of his teeth to the swell of her tits. He chuckles when the only response she gives him is a preening whine.

“Fucking knew it. You think I didn’t see how you were looking at me? Practically begging for it– shit– dirty little thing, aren’t you? What would your old man say, huh? Does he know his daughter’s just a little slut?” His voice is a southern slur stamped hotly into her skin, low and drawling and all melted together, pushing her even closer to the brink as her wetness starts to smear down hers and Joel’s thighs, the sound of skin slicking and sticking with each thrust becoming impossibly lewd. It’s almost too much when his one hand dips under her rucked up skirt, fingers harshly toying with her clit.

“Give it to me, honey. Make a fucking mess, c’mon.” The pleasure floods over in an instant, the only sound she can make is a breathy chant of his name as her hips seize up and she spasms around him. He’s not far behind as he thrusts into her a few more times before his hips stutter to a stop and she feels his warmth spreading inside her. She clings to him, both of them breathing hard and flushed with pleasure. 

“Jesus christ, I’m sorry– I should’ve–” “S’fine, I’m on the pill.” He throws his head back into the headrest at that, chest still heaving. But he doesn't stay still for long, jostling her in his hold as he suddenly leans forward and yanks the rosary still clinking into the windshield clean off the rearview mirror, tossing it haphazardly onto the passenger seat. She quirks an eyebrow at him as he settles back into the seat.

“Damn noise was driving me insane.”

[d0rothydraws]

Plus size reader has been sick and busy for the last 2 weeks. Sylus has also been busy, resorting in them not having sex for that time. Then, you feel better one day.

content: f!reader, plus size reader, description of fat bodies, very body positive, oral f! receiving, teasing, smut

w/c: 2.4k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I had an idea and it turned into this which was NOT my idea but I hope you enjoy it anyways. I want to write more plus size content as a big girlie myself I need to make my own food for this community.

also i'll be posting less because I'm starting a new job but I'll try to post now and then but also i'm going to try and write a bunch of prompts and oneshots for kinktober so if i do write stuff, I might just be saving it for october.

if theres anything you want to see with any of the boys for kinktober, send me an ask or comment and i'll make a list. I'll write pretty much anything.

You and Sylus have been busy as of late. Meetings, work, other obligations that left you tired. On top of that, for the last week you've been fighting off a cold. So, reluctantly much to the both of you, you had not had sex for two weeks; which for you two, two weeks ago seemed impossible. Two weeks ago it seemed like every few hours you were being dragged away, pulled onto his lap, lifted onto the counter, in the shower, against the door. Everywhere, anytime.

Of course you both were pent up, but your relationship was more than sex. You enjoyed each others company, and he would hold you close no mater how worried you were about getting him sick. He would kiss your forehead, his touch gentle and caring as you waited until you recovered. You swore you drank a years worth of orange juice which, in turn, upset your stomach more. He would tease you about wanting to get better so quickly, that he enjoyed taking care of you. But you knew he was just as eager as you.

So when you woke up one night you noticed how you felt imminently.

The feeling in your throat, gone. The weight behind your eyes, gone. The soreness in your stomach, gone. It was like you were a new person. As you sat up in the bed, knowing Sylus was still awake, probably in the attic watching a movie, your heart raced. You already felt the excitement build inside you as you just thought about what the next couple hours would consist of.

You changed clothes, your frumpy baggy night clothes replaced with a thin tank top that left nothing to the imagination. The curve of your soft stomach poked out slightly through the bottom of the fabric. Shorts replacing the thick pajama pants you've been wearing for two weeks straight. You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased at the display. You weren't shy about your body. Not anymore, not worth him. He told you time and time again how your curves drove him wild, how his hands would sink into your body. The way your thighs touched and shook as you walked. You caught him looking more than a couple times. And now, with everything on display, your mission had begun.

Making your way up the stairs to the attic you didn't try to be quiet. You knew he would be able to hear you, anyways, you wanted him to see you. As you immerged, the room was dark. Sylus preferred to use a projector, the white canvas stretching the entirety of the wall beside the door. And in an instant, his eyes were on you. The red piercing the darkness more than the projector light did. You didn't hesitate or falter though as you walked right past him to the little bar that was behind the couch.

"What's got you all dressed down, kitten. Did you get too hot?" He said the concern clear in his voice but also, there was a roughness that he's been holding back for weeks present. You felt the sound make your head spin.

"Yeah, I got another hot flash." You said moving to grab a bottle of water that you knew you weren't going to drink, but you wanted to catch him off guard. "What are you watching?" You asked as you moved to stand behind the couch. You could nearly see the hair on the back of his head prickle at your presence. Before he could answer you leaned down, your lips pressing against his ear. Your voice low, your chest pressed against the edge of the couch, against his back as he felt your soft body against him making his breath hitch. "I don't think I seen this one before."

You felt his body tense against you, his hand on his drink tensed as your hand moved over his chest, feeling his muscles flex under his sweat shirt. He turned his head trying to look at you, but in turn, you took advantage, pushing your lips against his now exposed neck. What you didn't expect, was for him to moan.

"I thought you were still sick, sweetie." He said with an edge to his voice as he tried to not let his emotions get the better of him. But you both knew he was more sensitive than what he wanted you to believe. As he felt your teeth graze his neck, you moved back up to his ear, catching the lobe softly with your tongue.

"I was. And now I'm not." You said matter-of-factly, leaning more over the couch so he could feel your chest on the back of his neck. Sylus moved his hand, trying to touch you, any part of you before you moved away, circling the couch. You stood Infront of him, your body casting a shadow on the movie. His eyes raked down your body, his cheeks having a faint red glow. Slowly you walked over to him, your thighs trapping him against the couch. You sat back on him, watching his throat constrict slightly as his hand touched the soft curve on your side.

"You look very appetizing right now." He said with a groan, feeling your body in his hands, his cock twitching under your ass that was barely covered by your shorts. "Are you sure you're feeling better. If we start it will be hard for me to stop especially when you look like this." He said, his breath heavy as his hands moved to your love handles, the soft dough like area melting under his fingers as he started to sink his fingers more into you. His hands kneading your body as his cock twitched again. You pressed against him, your stomach and chest soft against his hard one, filling the space between your two bodies.

"Aw are you saying I'm cute? I could say the same about you." You teased as your own hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He helped you, taking his hands off you just long enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it to the side of the couch. His eyes narrowed at your comment but he smirked softly, enjoying the hunger in your eyes as you looked at his body. His muscles flexed, so defined, strong. And yours on top of him. Soft, more curves than he could hold in one hand and just as sexy as him. You complimented each other.

"Oh darling you're much more than cute" He purred, his hands on you again as he trailed down your curves to grasp the side of your thigh. His other hand moved to the top of your tank top, pulling it down more and more until it ripped. He watched as your chest was slowly revealed more as he stretched out the already thin shirt. The sight made his mouth water. You shivered, watching as your chest shook softly from the fabric ripping, the rest of your shirt falling off of your shoulders. You teased him, using your arms to press your tits together, shaking them slightly. You seen a spark flash in his eye before his head pressed into the cleavage.

His eyes looked up at you as you moaned, feeling his tongue lick at one nipple a your other nipple as being pinched and played with by his fingers. You ground your hips against him, moaning as you felt him bite your nipple as if giving a warning. That didn't stop you from doing it again though. And this time, he ground back. Slow, and steady. He pulled his mouth away from you, a long string of saliva attaching him to your nipple before it broke.

Your hands moved to his chest, the palms brushing over the skin as you ground again, his hands moving to your hips, holding you still. In seconds, you felt the couch against your back, one leg hanging off of the couch due to the width of your thighs, but it only made his job easier since you were practically on display for him.

His hands moved over your body, body caging you in as he left no inch left untouched and un-kissed. He started at your neck, peppering kisses as he licked down between your chest, his hands returning for a second before he continued lower. He kissed down your stomach, taking extra time for his hands to play with you some more. To feel your weight in his hands, how your body was so soft against his. His hands weren't shy about any rolls you had, or extra softness. If anything he took his time to appreciate every curve, his hands and fingers making your dizzy as he slowly reached the top of your shorts.

His hands slipped under the band of your shorts, pulling them down to find the lack of underwear. He chuckled, trailing kisses down your soft thighs, nipping the inside gently as he felt you twitch and shiver from his touch.

"No panties? What a naughty kitten." He purred as he licked the inside of your thigh again, his other hand pulling the one that was hanging off the couch to rest on his shoulder. Before you could answer, his face was between your thighs. He had the hunger of a man that hadn't eaten in weeks. And in a way, he hadn't. One hand moved to grope your stomach, fingers squeezing and kneading the softness you had as his tongue pushed inside you. He moaned, breath heavy as you clenched around his tongue, pulling your hips closer, forcing his tongue deeper.

"You taste sweeter than I remember. All of that orange juice might have had something to do with it." He growled, pulling back for a moment as you gasped for breath at the sudden stop. You looked at him, the sight of his face covered in your juices, how he licked his lips. His free hand moved between your thighs, gently pushing two fingers in at once. Your body arched, eyes rolling back as he moved his mouth back to meet his hand. His lips moving to suck and lick your clit until you were shaking and begging him to not stop. As you came on his fingers, he licked you clean, not wasting a single drop as he pulled away, purring softly. "Delicious." He said, his voice heavy with arousal.

As you caught your breath, he moved off of the couch, discarding his pants and boxers. You looked at him, moaning softly as you felt heat flood your body at the sight of his thick dripping cock. It had been 2 weeks since you took him, and a thrill went through your body as you wondered how he would feel after so long. A hand moved to his cock as he rubbed himself, walking to you. His eyes raking over your body. You moved one leg over the back of the couch as if to draw him in more, if that was even possible.

As he repositioned over you, he kissed you slowly. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him, kissing back. A hand moved to your cheek as his thumb trailed your jaw. After a moment he pulled back, his voice earnest and soft.

"It's been a while, so I'll start slow." He said as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wetness, coating himself slightly. You gave a soft nod, your heart fluttering at his sincerity before he started to push in.

Your body went numb. Your cheeks flushed as your mouth opened. every nerve in your body contracted at the feeling. Pure pleasure and some pain as you felt your body stretch. He did move slow, but the moans he made, the grunts as you clenched around him, it made it hard for the both of you. You knew he was big, you've fucked more times than you could count. But in your abstinence, your body forgot.

"God, Sylus." You moaned, a hand curling in his hair, another clawing his arm. "You feel bigger than I remember." You gasped out, nails digging into him which made him rut slightly, pushing more into you as you cried out.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm almost offended. But I suppose it's more of a happy surprise." He said with a chuckle before he bottomed out. Your head was empty, the only thing that felt empty if you were honest. The only thought was him. How full he made you feel. How deep he was, how much he stretched you as you shook around him. No wonder you fucked him several times a day, his cock was like a drug. A drug made for you and you alone.

As he started to move his hands grabbed your love handles, fingers sinking into the flesh as he pulled you closer. Your body jiggled with each thrust, your chest bouncing, thighs wobbling, stomach shaking. Sylus growled softly, his eyes darkening at the sight as his thrusts got rougher as if to see how much he could make your body bounce from his cock.

Soon, you felt his hips start to stutter. One of his hands moved to between your thighs, thumb working the hard little nub that was begging to be touched. As he felt you clench around him, moaning and clawing his arm which was definitely going to leave a mark, he felt how close you were. Your moans getting louder, your cries getting higher pitched as your face grew more red, legs shaking around him.

"You look so good like this under me." He said, his voice heavy with need as he continued his movement. His comment pushed you over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a wave. You gasped out his name, hand falling off of his arm. Seconds later he followed after you, groaning as he painted the inside of your walls with his thick cum. He continued to pump into you, slower as he released, riding it out. Your eyes rolled as you whimpered. Had he not came this whole time? There was so much. You shivered as you felt your body get aroused again, feeling how much he was filling you before finally pulling out, his cock still half half. He panted, leaning over you as he put one arm on the couch arm rest.

Kissing you slowly, he brought his other hand to your face, holding you firmly. There was heat behind the kiss. His body still burning with that need for you.

"I hope you're not tired." He said against your lips, his hands moving to rub the expanse of your thighs. "Because we have to make up for lost time."

[theemporium]

Threesome smut with WolfstarxReader where Rem is obiviously a dom and he is sitting there and watching+comanding Switch!Reader and Stwitch!Sirius. Or it could be Swiftch!Reader and sub!sirius either is okay

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“Stop.” 

“Remus, please—” 

“I said stop.”

You choked out a whine, your hands fisting the material of the sheets beneath you as Sirius lifted his head from between your legs. He had been teasing you for the better part of the last hour, letting his tongue lap your soaking cunt and tease your entrance before he was told to pull away by Remus.

It wasn’t often Remus got in one of these moods.

It was not an unusual or uncommon occurrence for Remus to take control in bed, and you and Sirius were more than happy to let him have his way. But sometimes—usually closer to the full moon when his aggression was pent up and his patience was wearing thin—he would be like this. He would be intense and dominating and it was hard not to fall under the spell of Remus Lupin. 

And both you and Sirius knew better than to disobey him.

You knew instantly something was up when Remus came down for breakfast this morning, subtly kicking Sirius in the shin under the table as you nodded towards your boyfriend. You had both been on edge, waiting for him to say something or do something or just snap. 

It wasn’t until hours after dinner when you headed up to your dorm room when he finally did. 

Over an hour later, he was lounging on a seat a few feet from the bed, his cock in his hand as he watched the two of you with heated eyes. You and Sirius were nothing but toys for his pleasure, for him to direct and control and to play out his deepest and darkest fantasies on. 

“Please,” you choked out, your body glistening with a thin, sheen layer of sweat. Your heart was racing in your chest and your legs were shaking from the overstimulation and you just wanted to finally come. “I-I’ll do anything, I–”

“Such a needy little whore,” Remus grunted, squeezing the base of his cock as he watched Sirius stare longingly at your soaking cunt, your legs spread and tied open with a quick flick of Remus’ wand. “Both of you, it’s fucking pathetic.” 

“Remus,” Sirius’ voice was gruff, his hair tied back in a low bun and his chin glistening with your release. He licked his lips, shifting in his seat in hopes of easing the bulge in his boxers. “She tastes so good—”

“Did I say either of you could speak?” he gritted between clenched teeth. 

Both you and Sirius shook your heads. 

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Remus grumbled as he stood up, naked and glorious and both of your bleary eyes couldn’t look away from him. “Both so fucking mouthy, especially you.” 

You squirmed under his gaze. “I–”

“Whores don’t talk,” Remus bit out, watching with some amusement how your chest stuttered with your shaky breaths. He turned his gaze down to Sirius who kneeled at the edge of the bed, his fingers working quickly to remove the hair tie before his fingers tangled in his hair.

“Shit,” Sirius moaned, head falling back when Remus roughly tugged. 

“Guess I gotta keep you quiet,” Remus groaned as his other hand gripped his cock, stroking himself until beads of precum leaked from the tip. He guided his cock to Sirius’ mouth, watching as the boy parted his lips instantly and wrapped them around the tip. “Atta boy, Pads.” 

You whined, watching the way Remus dragged Sirius’ head up and down his cock, the way he moaned and whined around his cock. 

Remus only scoffed, something quite like a smug smirk on his face. “Cry all you want, darling, you haven’t earned my cock yet.” 

Your cheeks flushed and your lips parted in shock. “Remus—”

“Whores don’t talk,” Remus repeated mockingly, letting out a small hiss as his cock hit the back of Sirius’ throat. “Now be a good girl and stay quiet, don’t need you distracting Sirius.”

.

[merchelsea]

just maybe - lewis hamilton

pairing: ex!lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: lewis misses what you used to be, and what a better way to show it than showing up, drunk, at your house?

author’s note: felt like writing lewis today because not enough people do!

word count: 1,1k

you lay on your couch, your phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. you knew there wouldn't be anything new, but you couldn't help yourself. you had been in the same position all day, unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you.

it had all started because you wanted to watch a romantic movie, a harmless way to pass the time. but as the movie played on, you found yourself crying, wishing desperately for a happy ending like the one onscreen. you and lewis used to have those moments, those beautiful moments that now only existed in your memories.

every scene in the movie triggered a bittersweet memory. they weren't sad memories, per se, but the fact that they were over made them so. you decided it was time to stop torturing yourself, to stop watching movies that made you cry over your ex, and to simply wait for something to happen. but, of course, nothing did.

that is, until you heard a series of knocks on your door. you rushed to answer it, expecting it to be a friend or maybe your sister. but when you laid eyes on the familiar brown ones you had been crying over just hours ago, shock coursed through you.

"heeeeey," lewis slurred, clearly intoxicated. fate seemed to be playing a cruel prank on you.

you stared at him for a few moments before finally finding your voice. "what the heck are you doing here?" you asked, blocking his path from entering your home.

lewis smirked knowingly. "oh, didn't seb warn you?" he said, referring to his friend vettel, who must have sent you a message the moment he knew lewis was drunk and thinking about you.

because that's what happened when he got drunk. he'd think back to your relationship and regret every detail that had gone wrong. vettel always thought lewis would try to contact you, but he never had the courage to do it—until today.

lewis had qualified third in a race after a series of unfortunate events, finally giving him a shot at victory. but, unpredictably, he had to retire from the race on the first lap.

"I missed you." lewis confessed, leaning against your doorframe as if aware of how powerful those words were.

"you don't know what you're saying, lewis," you sighed. you had spent the last seven months dreaming of hearing those words from him, but this was not how you imagined it.

"oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. believe me," he insisted.

"you're drunk!" you retorted.

"and? that doesn't change the fact that I think about you all the time. about us. about what we used to be," he said, refusing to give up.

you stood there silently, thinking he would back off if you didn't give him a hint of what you were feeling. but of course he had other plans. you sighed and stepped back from the door, allowing lewis to enter. he leaned against the closed door, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his.

"I miss you when I'm at the simulator, and you're not there to beat my ass. I miss you when I go to lunch and forget to eat because I'm distracted by your smile. I miss you when toto speaks german, and we don't make jokes about it. I miss you when I'm walking, and our legs aren't in sync. I miss you when I wear my hats, and you're not there to steal them. I miss you when I see a cat on the streets, and you don't try to convince me to adopt it. I miss you when Max wins, and you're not there to congratulate him."

you were rendered speechless. every word he uttered, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, pierced your heart. you couldn't look away, but you feared that if you continued to stare, you wouldn't be able to let him go.

"I know I seem drunk, but this is the most truthful thing I've said in, like, forever. it's been almost eight months, and I still miss you in everything I do," he finally stood up and, somehow, managed to get closer to you. "tell me you don't miss me, and I'll never bother you again."

you took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. it was clear he had been drinking, but not enough to make him drunk. his little play could fool everyone, but it would never fool you.

you knew you missed him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't sure if it was the right thing to say. maybe, just maybe, he needed to move on, to find someone else who fit into his life.

but then, a voice inside your head reminded you that if he hadn't moved on after seven months without any contact, he probably wouldn't after eight. you couldn't lie to him when he had been missing you relentlessly for seven months.

"I miss you when I'm doing laundry, and I don't find your shirt in the wrong basket. I miss you when I'm taking a shower and don't hear the pre-qualifying comments. I miss you when I see a Mercedes on the road. I miss you when I play uno with my friends, and you don't win. I miss you when you're racing, and I'm at home, but not because I have things to do. I miss you when I'm not missing you because of racing."

you also took a step closer to him. "then let me make you miss me the right way again, please."

as you stood there, locked in a moment of intense longing and emotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for. lewis had come back, admitting his feelings, and you couldn't deny your own.

with tears welling up in your eyes, you took another step closer to him. in that moment, you both understood that some things were too strong to be denied or forgotten, no matter how much time had passed.

you whispered softly, "lewis, I'll miss you no matter what, so please make me miss you the right way."

lewis' eyes lit up with hope and joy, and he gently pulled you into his arms. as you embraced, you both knew that this was a chance to have a fresh start, to rebuild what you once had. it wouldn't be easy, and there were still obstacles to overcome, but you were both willing to try.

in that moment, as you held each other tightly, you realized that sometimes, fate had a way of bringing people back together, even when it seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending you had been longing for all along.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Swimming

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: a day at the beach can be fun, until you can't participate in certain aquatic activities

WC: 3.3k

Warnings/tags: feeling left out, reader has a devil fruit and can't swim (my knowledge might be innacurate, sorry), one suggestive comment, nothing too bad she's fluffy, Zoro is an attentive bf because I said so

You sat on the beach, on a towel, looking out at the shining sea, crystal blue waters lapping at the shore.

The sand clung to your feet, wet from your earlier adventure into the shallows. A small collection of pretty shells and rocks sat next to you, scrounged up from the pebbled water. You leaned back on your arms, feeling the water on your legs slowly drip down onto the yellow sands. It was a perfect beach. If someone were to tell someone to imagine the perfect beach, it would not look unlike this.

A bright blue sea, layers of foam where the land met the shore and where light waves peak. A field of sand, lively yellow with a hint of brown to dull the vibrancy. On the edge of the sand, a line of palm trees that faded into a lush forest. You could hear birds deep in the forest squawking at each other, that accompanied with the sound of gentle water drifting in and out in waves making a gorgeous soundscape for your ears.

You looked out at the sea and smiled. All but one of your crewmates swam in the water, splashing each other, having fun.

You enjoyed watching them having their fun, but you still felt the ache of missing out. Luffy was off chasing a brightly coloured bird down the sand, not as bothered by his exemption from this activity.

You admired his optimism. You wished you could be less unhappy with your situation. You supposed he was more used to not being able to swim and would reasonably be more willing to let his crew have fun while he split off.

You still felt wrong. You were supposed to be in the water, like you were last time. Before that day. Before everything changed.

A lot of things had changed, and you still weren't used to it. Sometimes you felt yourself getting angry or excited, and had to calm yourself before you got out of control.

You had changed a lot. You felt strange in your body, now wielding a power you still worried about when your emotions ran high. However, that was not your concern at the moment. You were mostly grieving your swimming. You had loved to find yourself in the water, but due to your new situation, you were no longer capable of doing it.

You had loved the way everything seemed to slow down when you were in the water, the gentle waves around your body, pushing you towards the shore, the way the feeling stayed with you even on land, and the naps you used to take on the beach afterwards, waterlogged and happy. You missed it terribly.

Despite your pain about the situation, you refused to voice it. You weren't going to ruin everyone else's beach day because you couldn't swim.

The rest of the day had been fine, most of the time spent on the sand, or in the shallows, but the group wanted to go deeper, and you couldn't. Your boyfriend, Zoro, had decided to stay at first, joining you in your attempt to sunbathe, he even took a small nap, but you refused to let him miss out on the beach day because of you, even if you selfishly wanted him to.

You watched the fun from afar as the crew played in the water, a cluster of heads bobbing up and down in the water, moving back and forth. You watched as Zoro and Sanji's heads moved away from the group and swiftly returned. A race. You saw a few playful splashes exchanged between the group and Nami being hefted onto Sanji's shoulders for whatever reason.

You missed splashing the others. You missed being challenged to races and making excuses as to why you lost. You missed everything.

You must've looked disappointed, because Zoro split off from the group, trudging up the beach and kneeling in front of your towel.

His shirt was off, which made you feel a little better, seeing the trails of water shining on his bare skin. He had been shirtless the whole day in order to soak up the sun's rays of course, but he was currently covered in water, which was dripping down his body and reflecting the sun. He was shiny. Your eyes trailed over the muscles moving under his shiny skin and you smiled faintly, looking up at his face. "Hey."

"Hey yourself, what's wrong?" He spent no time trying to pretend he thought you were alright. It was apparently very evident that you weren't having fun, as his eyes searched yours. You didn't want to make him feel guilty for being able to indulge in something you couldn't, or ruin his fun by moping on the shore.

Your eyes looked guiltily towards the ground as you futilely tried to make up some stupid excuse and lie that there was nothing wrong. He just lowered his head so he could continue looking at you.

"It's nothing, Zoro. I'm just being weird." You gave him a half hearted smile, trying to convince him that you weren't upset.

That wasn't good enough for him. He leaned forward, until his forehead pressed against yours, looking up at you, and it made your heart flutter. "Zoro, you're dripping on me." You said through a hiccup of a laugh, a little flustered by his action, but making no move to push him away. He continued to lean forward and gently pushed you to the ground. You were grateful for the towel between you and the sand.

"Zoro." You tried to scold him but you couldn't help but let out a laugh after his full weight fell on you. You could feel the water soaking through your clothes. "Zoro, you're getting me wet."

"What's wrong?" He asked again, head resting on your chest. "Tell me and I'll get off." Both of you knew that he would get off if you asked him plainly, but it was a small bit of incentive for you to tell him.

"I miss swimming." He nodded on your chest, but didn't get up just yet. You struggled to find the right way to phrase how you felt. "I love my powers, they're cool and all, but I miss what it was like beforehand." You took a deep breath, ready to voice something you had yet to say out loud. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't eaten that Devil fruit."

It was well known amongst the crew that you had no choice but to eat it. At the very least, you had no choice if you wanted to save your crew, which you obviously did.

Even then, it had not been easy for you to do it. Knowing the risks and consequences, the responsibility and the pain. You still got thanks for saving the crew that day. For sacrificing your safety on the sea in exchange for the control of winds so strong they could flip a ship upside down.

You felt Zoro press a kiss to your neckline, leaving the skin wet. "I'm sorry."

He had never been good with words, but he was always able to show you his affection with his actions. Before your official beginnings as a couple, he had helped you with chores, fought close to you and even dared to talk with you, albeit about casual topics. His love language had always been acts of service and you had never forgotten it once during the length of your relationship.

He knew it too, which was why he tended to communicate his emotions with actions as opposed to words. It was easier for him.

You kissed his head in return, slicking his wet hair back first. "It's not your fault. I'd do it again one million times." You ran your fingers through the short green hair, gathering little drops of water in your fingers and flicking them into the sand. You felt him relax on you, as your fingers went through his hair over and over again. He hummed happily and you supposed he did it because nobody else was around to hear his moment of weakness.

You messed up his hair when you were done playing with it, and lightly tapped his shoulders.

"Don't let me ruin your fun, Zoro. Go back out there, merman, swim all you want." He shook his head firmly, but got up, your shirt now thoroughly soaked through and clinging to your skin. "Come with me." He insisted. "I can't swim." "I can."

Despite your confusion, he got you to strip down to the swimsuit you had on, originally to make it easier to wade as deep as you could without getting your other clothes soaked, but Zoro had already ruined that by practically using you as a towel.

Zoro turned around, exposing his back for you, legs bent, and told you to climb on. Despite your confusion, you obeyed, stepping on his thighs to push yourself up higher.

Your arms linked around his neck, legs crossed around his stomach. Your head nestled in next to his, your nose barely brushing his ear.

"You ready?" He asked. You pressed a kiss to the side of his neck in response. "Let's do this."

He walked in at first, and he was holding your legs up, but had to let go when he was about waist deep.

When he leaned forward to swim into the deeper area where the rest of your friends were convened, you moved your head beside his so that he could lift his head up to breathe. He wasn't used to swimming with someone on his back, but he adapted to it quickly. The water barely made it to your back, but your front half was completely submerged, and you pulled yourself closer to Zoro.

When he met up with the others, he straightened up again, standing on the sandy floor, allowing you to be submerged up to your shoulders. You held on tight, even though the water still wasn't that deep. If you fell under, any one of them was more than capable of retrieving you and getting you back to Zoro, or if need be, drag you to shore.

"Look who's here." Nami smiled, and you felt like you could breathe easier. You were in the water again. You resisted the urge to detach from Zoro and stand on the ground yourself, aware that if you did so, you would be helpless against the will of the sea.

"You okay?" Nami asked, looking a little worried for you. Obviously this was not an ideal situation, but she wasn't going to openly oppose what was clearly working.

"Yeah." You breathed shakily, still a little nervous yourself about the vastness of the ocean and how quickly you could be lost in it. The thought made you shiver, but you played it off as if the temperature of the water was what was bothering you, having just got up from the warm sand and hot sun.

Usopp splashed you first, sneaking up behind you with a puddle of water cupped between his hands that he flung at the back of your head, splashing your hair. You looked around to see him duck under the water and swim to the other side of the group, pretending nothing happened. You tightened your fist and a small gust of wind pushed a wave of water onto him at your command, soaking him entirely.

You felt the vibrations of Zoro's laughs under your hold as more splashes of water were exchanged. At first the splashes at you were smaller, they didn't want to make you or Zoro go under, but they soon realized that neither of you would be going down without a fight. Small splashes become waves of water that you sent back eagerly with the aid of your wind. You were laughing by the end, as water dripped from your face, hair and shoulders, leaving you completely drenched.

The water surrounding you weakened you a small bit, but not enough to deter you from your amusement. You were having too much fun to call it quits.

"Hey!"

The call came from the beach. The group turned to see what was going on, Zoro grabbing hold of your legs with one hand, your arms with the other as he turned around, making sure you didn't fall off.

On the beach, Luffy stood, looking out at the congregation, though he hardly looked upset to be missing out. He looked at you with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face. "I want to go in too!"

Without another word from your captain, Sanji took off and let Luffy climb up on his back as Zoro had done with you, arms around his shoulders, legs crossed around his stomach. Sanji swam back in, and the crew was reunited in the ocean.

The day went on, more than enough fun was had, and as the water began to prune fingers and tiredness took over, the crew slowly left the water to go dry off, one by one, until you and Zoro were the only ones left.

You were tired as well, and definitely pruned, but the feeling of the water around you was too comforting to miss.

The sun had begun to set, painting the sky in a variety of warm colours that were reflected on the sea, creating a lovely view.

Your head rested on your arm, leaning against Zoro's head. He had refused to leave until you wanted to, weathering the conditions for your comfort and amusement.

"Enjoying the water?" Zoro asked as you watched the sunset. "Yes. Thank you." "It's nothing." He insisted. "It's nice." "Anyone capable of carrying you should do it." He brushed aside the praise with a huff. "I know some who could but wouldn't. You would. That's what matters. You're good Zoro. The sooner you admit it, the better."

You felt him sigh under you, but you could tell it was a good sigh. The kind he did when he saw your crewmates getting in an argument and he found it amusing. The kind he did after a good drink of sake. The one he did after falling away from your lips deep in the night, your name coming out in satisfied breaths.

Your heart beat faster and you wondered if he could feel it against his back the way you could feel the way he breathed and the vibrations of his voice.

When the sun was nearly gone over the horizon, a majority of the sky was purple, nearing deep blue, as vast and merciless as the depths of the ocean, The crew started a bonfire on the shore.

You saw this and decided it would be best to leave soon and huddle around the comforting warmth of the fire when a thought wormed its way into your brain.

Even though you were alone in the water, you wanted to try something. "Can I try standing in the water?" You asked softly. You could feel Zoro tense under you at the idea. "Are you sure?" He sounded reasonably doubtful, having saved you from the water before. "I know. I just want to try."

He stayed still for a moment, struck with indecision. He didn't want to risk it, but he knew that you wanted to do this. That you missed this. So he was going to support you.

And so, after wading to a slightly shallower area, he let you unwrap your legs from around his body, hanging on to him by his neck, letting your feet touch the sand, most of your body supported by the arms around his neck. He reached an arm around and moved you around so the two of you were face to face. He held out his arms so that he could catch you if necessary.

When your arms dropped from his neck and you put your full weight on your legs, they failed, and you sunk into the water.

Zoro tried to catch you as you went down, but you sank too fast, like a giant stone, going down faster than you expected. You felt helpless as your back touched the sandy sea floor and a little silly for requesting something that was obviously rigged to fail.

Zoro fell into the relatively shallow water and grabbed you from the sandy ground. You wanted to wrap your arms around him when he reached down so you could hold him on your way up, but the curse of the sea kept you from doing anything but sit limply at the bottom, waiting for help.

Zoro pulled you up above the surface, draping your arms over his shoulders. As soon as you felt strong enough to move them, you wrapped them tightly around his neck. His one arm reached up to hold the back of your head, the other under your legs as they wrapped back around him. On the beach, the patrons of the bonfire were alerted to your fall, all of them standing at the shore, feet in the water, prepared to get you if needed.

They all stood ankle deep in the water, watching the scene, and you waved a weak hand in the air to show them that you were alive, and no less worse for wear.

Zoro buried his face in the nape of your neck and held you tightly to him, arms wrapping around your back, holding you tight. "I think we should go back." You coughed out quietly, feeling the way his heartbeat had sped up.

"I think so too."

He brought you back from the water, not even bothering to move you back around. When you reached the shore he let you go, and you stepped onto the dry sand, legs stabilizing on proper land.

Zoro stayed next to you as the two of you walked towards the fire the crew had started up. They all looked nervous as you came over, like they wanted to ask why you fell, but weren't sure how to say it. You felt bad about startling them.

Nobody said anything about it and you were thankful for that, even though you knew they were all thinking about it.

In the light of the fire, you curled up next to Zoro, pressed as close as you possibly could be. He had wrapped his towel abound both of your shoulders while the two of you sat on your towel. You tentatively kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear. "Thank you for taking me out there." He looked at you when you moved away. "I'll do it again a million times as long as it makes you happy."

He looked back to the fire as if what he said meant nothing. And you supposed that, to him, it might have been nothing. A simple expression of what he was willing to do for you. No problem. But it was everything to you. You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too." He looked over when your breath hitched. "Why are you crying?" "Because you said you'd do that for me as long as it made me happy." "That's what I'm supposed to do." "I know. But I'm glad anyways." "If sitting in the water with you on my back is what makes you happy, I'll do it."

You rested your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about falling in." "Nothing to be sorry about. Luffy falls in every other day." You stayed quiet. "And you had a strong swordsman to look out for you." You could hear the soft, proud smile in his voice.

You smiled. "I know. I'm very lucky to have you." "Not nearly as lucky as I am to have you." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and in that moment, you felt a warmth spread through you, just as a light gust of wind blew over the beach, and for the first time in a very long while, you felt like yourself again.