#what a beautiful way to complete her career

[importantpuppystarfish]

Sibling desire by Wonyoung

Male reader x Wonyoung

Warnings: Incest, totally blood related siblings, pissing (if u dont like the fantasy, simply dont read)

As I walk into my room, I see my sister Wonyoung lying on my bed. Her hair tied up and her smooth legs dangle playfully off the edge of the mattress. She looks over at me with a smile and pats the open space next to her. "Come here, I've got something to show you." She purrs. I feel my heart rate pick up as I make my way over to her. What could she possibly want to show me?

Wonyoung swipes through some images. My eyes go wide seeing the series of provocative pics she took - closeups of her lips, chest, the curve of her hip. She watches me closely.

"Do you like them?" She asks with a flirty wink. My mouth goes dry as my eyes drink in the sight of my gorgeous older sister posed so temptingly. I manage a weak nod in response as she never showed me like this.

"Mmm I took them just for you." She confesses, leaning in close and wrapping an arm around me. My heart pounds in my chest. This can't be real…but it's happening!

"I bet you've got quite the reaction going on under there huh?" She teases, reaching down and giving me an affectionate squeeze.

Wonyoung and I no longer have the chance to spend as much time together as we used to, especially since she’s been so busy with her career in IVE. She’s changed a lot over time, and it’s clear she’s grown taller and become even healthier. She’s no longer the same Wonyoung I once knew as her brother.

Swallowing hard, I gather some courage and lean in closer to her, whispering "You look…so beautiful sister…" My fingers trace lightly over her exposed leg.

Wonyoung giggles. "You're so cute when you blush like that." She bites her lip, her eyes searching mine. "You know…you're grown pretty handsome yourself." She lifts her chin, inviting my gaze to drop lower to her lips.

"Say something…say I'm hot." She whispers breathily.

Even though I know I'm not the most attractive guy, Wonyoung's words send a flutter through my chest. I can see the genuine affection in her eyes as she looks at me. She really does think I'm…cute…

She shifts, moving closer until our noses almost touch. "Come on, say it…say your big sister is hot!." Her voice is soft but commanding. I nod mutely, my throat dry. "Y-you're hot, sister…" I croak out.

Wonyoung leans back and asks "Hey, btw this question got me wondering…" She says slowly, her voice low. "What do you think a typical brother and sister relationship should be like?"

She watches me carefully, head tilted expectantly, waiting to hear my opinion on something much more profound than normal sibling dynamics. Her eyes are curious yet almost flirty.

I nod dumbly, not knowing what else to say. "Loving and…trusting," I murmur, feeling like those words don't quite capture the complexity of sibling bonds.

But Wonyoung takes my response and runs with it. She slides closer, her hip brushing against mine. "Mmmm loving and trusting…"

"Maybe…more than just loving?" "A brother and sister who really…connect."

"What do u mean?" I asked.. Wonyoung swallows hard before explaining. "What I mean is…in the most ideal, close-knit family, the brother owns the sister completely. And the sister owns the brother just the same."

She reaches out and strokes my cheek gently. "No limits, no holding back" Her words make me blink in surprise, where did she develop this kind of mindset from throughout these years?

"I should be your first.. No outside partners allowed." She declares firmly.

Wonyoung gazes at me hopeful yet serious, clearly laid out her vision for us.

Wonyoung puts her hand upon my shoulder trying to hug and then kiss me. I held back as I say "Sister what are u doing!!!?".. Wonyoung pouts when I protest, but keeps holding me tighter. "Shhh…" she whispers against my lips before planting a soft kiss there. "Didn't u say our bond should be of loving and trusting?."

She pulls back just enough to speak again, her breath hot on my face. "You're my brother…and I'm your sister. Isn't this loving between us?" She tries coaxing, hand trailing down my chest.

Wonyoung seeks to reassure as she leans in again, more insistently this time. I can feel her want, yet the wrongness of it all makes me hesitant.

Before I can react, Wonyoung crashes her lips onto mine in a deep, demanding kiss. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she takes control. The kiss is aggressive, all tongue and teeth. Unable to deny her any longer, I give in completely in the kiss. My lips part eagerly beneath hers, savoring the intoxicating sweetness of her kiss. One hand rises to grip her waist tightly as the other tangles in her hair, pulling her closer.

She tastes like everything I've ever craved without knowing it. I surrender completely, losing myself in the dangerous allure of this twisted intimacy between us.

"Huh? U liked it right…" Wonyoung says.

Wonyoung smiles victoriously against my mouth, pleased she's gotten me to respond. "Mmm…good boy…" she whispers, running her fingers through my body. Her hands begin working at my shirt buttons, trying to remove it impatiently.

"You're already mine aren't you brother?" Her voice is low and sultry, her eyes shining with delight at having me under her spell.

She tugs at my shirt again insistently, waiting for me to obey…

She pushes my shirt open, exposing my chest.

"Shhh…" she hushes me again, biting her lip as she palms me through thin fabric. "Do you like that sis…is making you feel good?"

She shrugs off her shirt first, tossing it aside carelessly as she unhooks her bra next. It falls away, releasing her flawless form completely to me. She shakes her hair out, gazing down at me expectantly.

Her tits were perfectly proportioned, small medium sized yet supple. Her bosom is a delicate handful, delicate pink nipples starts to make my mouth watery & hungry.

"Well?" she asks coyly, fingers releasing me just long enough to begin shrugging out of her pants next. "Are you going to watch your sister strip?" Her voice drops another octave, daring me.

My eyes widen slightly when she fully reveals herself to me. I never dreamed this scene totally in my lifetime.

"Do you like it, brother?" She breathes, hands coming to rest on her hips. She pushes slightly against me, seeking contact. "Tell me…" she asks demandingly.

"Come now, get on your knees." Wonyoung orders. She wants me low before she grants me any further privileges.

She takes her own swaying breast in hand and guides it towards my mouth.

"Suck" she commands, voice rough yet compelling. I part my lips obediently and she presses forward, my tongue meeting the stiff peak. She gasps at the contact.

"Yes that's it…" she praises, running fingers through my hair again as I begin to suckle eagerly. Her sweet nectar coats my tongue, sweaty flavors making me thirsty for more. I lose myself in the sensation - it smells and tastes so good. Her skin, the weight of her supple figure in my mouth.

"Mmm yes, keep going, make them feel good…" Wonyoung crooks a leg behind me, pulling me closer until I'm fully engaged between her thighs. Releasing her tits from my mouth, I glance up at Wonyoung with a silent question. She nods eagerly in response.

"Taste me brother…" she purrs, guiding me lower.

I settle between her thighs, inhaling her heady aroma before diving in. I take and deep breathe and start licking her clit. She cries out, hands gripping the sheets as I lose myself in bringing her pleasure.

My senses are overwhelmed, the salty-sweet musk of her, the velvety give of her pussy lips against my tongue, the rhythmic pulsing against my tasting buds as I relentlessly stoke that bundle of nerves. Wonyoung gets so wet and squirts over my mouth as she moans.

"Yes…just like that!" sister gasps out, bucking against my mouth as I drive her wild. Wonyoung grabs my head and pushes me more deep inside her.

Wonyoung squirts more inside my mouth as I swallow it all. My jaw aches from her insistently grinding on my tongue but I don't care - I want to obey, to make her cry out louder.

"Don't stop! Make me come on your tongue!" she cries.

Now the most extreme part, without warning, I feel a hot stream splash across my face and into my mouth. Wonyoung releases a surprised laugh as I'm suddenly showered in my own sibling's piss warmth.

"Well well, did you like your sibling's taste?" she asks teasingly, still catching her breath. I genuinely replied her I loved it because why not? It tasted so delicious yet taboo. She reaches down and wipes out the dampness from my face by licking me with her tongue.

"There now, all cleaned up." She grins.

``will continue if the readers like it😁''

[vettelsvee]

Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞

DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2043

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N

VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.  

Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.  

You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.  

Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.  

Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.  

The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.

However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.

“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”

“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”

“She’s too young for him.”

“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”

You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.

The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.

“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”

“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?

You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.

As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.

You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.

But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.

Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.

“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”

He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.

You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.

“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”

Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.

Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.

“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”

Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.

“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”

“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.

Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.

“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”

“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”

“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.

“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.

Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”

Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.

You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.

“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”

Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.

“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”

“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.

“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”

You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.

[schumi-nadal]

Danielle Collins - Miami Open 2024 🇺🇸

A wonderful fairy tale for Danielle ✨

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Mrs Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: suggestive

It was the first time in your career that you walked as a Victoria Secret Angel and you couldn't be more proud and grateful for the opportunity that was given to you. All the work and effort over the years paid off and you were finally able to check off one more thing on your wish list.

This was such a special moment for you, you were so excited to walk the runway with your wings and the fact that you knew your husband would be in the audience supporting you made that moment even special.

Lando took a private plane to NYC directly from his business commitments to support his wife and be her biggest fan. You weren't sure how he would fit it into his busy schedule, but one thing you were sure of was that he would be there. You were sure he would find a way because you knew he wouldn't miss it for anything.

But what you didn't know was that Lando was going to take your daughter with him as a surprise guest for you. He carefully planned everything so that the two most important people in your life would be there for you on one of the most important days in your career.

The show was just about to start and while you were finishing the final touches backstage, Lando and Isla settled in the front rows of the runway. Lando looked like he might as well conquer that same runway in his black suit with his shirt just unbuttoned. His mullet looked flawless, his curls stood out perfectly with his well-known necklaces around his neck, a watch on his wrist and his daughter on his lap, he looked like a god.

As the music started, you were getting more and more nervous, but in a good way, you couldn't wait to get out on the runway and walk your wings.

Words couldn't describe the adrenaline that ran through your veins once you stepped out onto the runway. You've done it a thousand times before, but this time it was a completely different experience. You felt so powerful, so proud and so important, like you could conquer the whole world, as if no one could stop you.

As you walked your eyes searched for your husband, and when they found him it took everything in you to remain professional and not let your motherly feelings get the best of you when you saw your daughter sitting on Lando's lap. Your eyes sparkled and filled with tears when you saw how happy she was, how she waved at you and shouted mommy!!.

"Yees!! That's my wife! I love you baby!!" Lando shouted proudly as you walked by and blew both of them a kiss.

"That's my mommy!" Isla said excitedly pointing her little finger at you.

"Yes, baby, that's mommy" He smiled looking how fixated Isla's eyes were on you.

"She's so pretty," She commented. "And she has wings?!"

"She is, isn't she? Do you like the wings?" Lando chuckled seeing how excited Isla got about them.

"I do!! Daddy, can I have them too?"

"Oh, baby" Lando softened. "Well, not right now, but maybe one day when you're all big and grown up. Even though I hope not.." Lando muttered the last part quietly so Isla wouldn't hear how he hoped his daughter wouldn't one day walk the runway in tiny lace lingerie set in front of a million people and cameras following her every step.

It's not that he didn't want her to succeed one day, but that's just not any dad's dream when it comes to his daughter especially not Lando's.

"But..I want them now, daddy" She pouted. "I wanna be pretty just like mommy"

"Pumpkin, you are just as beautiful as mommy. Daddy's gonna buy you smaller wings so they can fit you perfectly as soon as we get home, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed and Lando kissed her cheek before they continued to watch the rest of the models walk.

By the time the show came to an end, Isla was already too tired and fell asleep on Lando's shoulder. Since it was long past her bed time she didn't even mind all the noise happening around her, she was peacefully sleeping hiding her head in the crook of her daddy's neck.

Once the show was over, Lando, with Isla in his arms, headed backstage to congratulate you. You melted when you saw how tired your daughter was and felt a little bad that she wasn't in her bed right now.

"I'm so proud of you, Mrs Norris" Lando said kissing you as you hugged him over Isla.

"Thank you, baby. How..? How did you manage to do this?"

"Just wanted to make sure both of your biggest fans were there for you on such an important day"

"You're incredible..I love you so much" You said feeling so grateful for the immense support you felt from him, not only now, but always.

In his vows, he promised you that he would always be there for you and ever since that day, he has never broken that promise. He always did everything for you and you only. When it came to you, nothing was impossible for him.

"I love you too, baby. Do you wanna go to the after party?" He asked.

"No, I wanna go to the hotel with you and Isla."

"Oh, she's going over to grandma and grandpa's tonight" Lando smirked.

"What do you mean? We're in New York?" You asked confused not knowing that Lando's parents were there as well tonight.

"Let's say I flew them out here so she can stay with them after the show."

"Oh really?" You laughed already knowing what he had planned in his mind. "And why did you do that?"

"Because I knew what I wanted to do to you tonight." He smirked squeezing your hip. "Daddy needs to show mommy just how proud he is of her for being so marvelously beautiful and owning that runway tonight."

"Oh so I get to have my own personal after party?"

"Oh yeah" He smirked connecting your lips again. "Do you get to take that set with you?" He asked referring to what you were wearing tonight before you changed.

You moved closer to his ear and whispered "I'm wearing it right now under this dress"

He took a deep breath in closing his eyes picturing you again in it.

"Good, because all I could think about was how I'm gonna be taking it off you after the show ends."

When you were ready to leave the show venue, a crowd of paparazzi greeted you at the exit on your way to your waiting car. Camera flashes went off so hard it made it hard to see where you were walking. Lando took off his blazer and wrapped it around Isla to shield her since she was still sleeping undisturbed on his chest. He kept you both under his grip, his hand on your waist first pulling you closer to him then letting you walk in front of him so he can keep an eye on you while with the other hand he tightly held your daughter.

You weren't the least bit sorry that you weren't going to attend the after party with the rest of the models because you knew that the after party you were about to get tonight would be like no other.

[usedpidemo]

Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)

“All I’m saying is—” Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, “if you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.”

You widely stare back, silent, indifferent—or at least pretend to be. It’s gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. It’s not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever.  

She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. “So I’m taking that as an admission.” 

Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.

You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.

—————

The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. There’s also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and you’ve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.

Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. It’s how she’s getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. She’s an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo there—until she’s more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most. 

She’s the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.

So it comes as a surprise when she’s casted as second fiddle to you, the first billing—and everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer. 

(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces that’s commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.

It’s a team that sailed a thousand ships—both for your characters and in the real world.)

The consummate professional you are, you don’t think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where you’re together on screen, you’ve been separated at arms’ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. It’s only during the press tour where you’ve finally gotten somewhat close.

Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhere—in interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, that’s what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.

Here’s the thing: you love Hyewon—that much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?

Thankfully, your duo doesn’t get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that can’t be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly well—well enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership. 

Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few months—and how you’re a match made in heaven. 

Everyone’s gonna miss this pairing—and so will you.

Now you’re back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, you’ve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded. 

It’s all behind you now. You’re finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really matters—the pretty girl that you most likely won’t be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldn’t be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.

Back to Hyewon. She’s looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.

“Are you gonna do something?” she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you don’t—or maybe you do. You’re blinded by fear to realize it. “The night is fleeting. If not now, then when?”

Her words ring through your head. 

If not now, then when?

The same five words, ordered in the exact same way���etched in tiny letters on her skin.

You still remember everything—frame by frame, down to the last details. On screen, it’s implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your characters’ supposed words, ‘Clean’’ in your own unique way.

It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said. 

The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.

During this period, there are a lot of things that you’ve regret—and will regret. The fact you’ve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you haven’t thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If there’s anything you want to admit, it’s that Hyewon is everything.

Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where you’d yearn moments when you’re not beside her—and you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When she’s right at your fingertips.

Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice you’ve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses she’s been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras. 

Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. “I wore this just for you,” she said—and from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.

Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. She’s just waiting for those magic words. There’s no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.

She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters. 

“If you’re not gonna do anything,” she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. “Then I might as well do it myself. I was hoping you’d take this off me—”

“Stop.” 

You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip. 

Another win for Hyewon. You’ve lost count as to how many times she’s been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense she’s enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, it’s clear on your face that you’re stressed. 

But for what?

“If it hasn’t gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.” Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; it’s not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot. 

Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. it’s undeniable that she knows what she’s doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldn’t be this beautiful and seductive. “You can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.”

You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When it’s all said and done, it’ll definitely be as long as the career documentary they’ll make about you in 50 years.

What more do you have to lose? 

This will all be behind you soon enough.

You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. “God, I really wish you weren’t such a tease,” you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. “Because otherwise, it would have been so much easier.”

Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses you—as in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.

“Only if you say the magic word,” she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.

You’ve really got no other choice.

“I love you,” you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginable—hiding that reluctance behind your tone. 

Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be. 

“That’s it? Doesn’t sound like someone who loves me,” she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.

“Fuck me.” The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasn’t your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.

“That’s my line,” she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers who’ve laughed can speak on her behalf.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” you ask, knowing you’ve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isn’t part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughs—basks in your suffering.

It’s the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocent—you’ve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesn’t need to reaffirm herself.

But she would love to hear it straight from the source.

“Say it. Say it.” Hyewon is urging you—demanding you—as if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you. 

Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewon’s gravity is inescapable.

“Love you—Hyem, please—” 

Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that she’s taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that it’s alarming. There’s little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, you’d fold in a heartbeat. She’s the kind of girl you’d happily end up in a scandal with, someone you’d throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.

She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. It’s the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.

“I love you Hyem,” you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. You’re breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. It’s unfortunate you can’t make it look like an accident—as is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. “For the longest time, I wanted you, but—”

Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.

Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about working with other actors, it’s that chemistry comes naturally—it can’t be taught.

And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you can’t be any more tense.

“Then show me.” She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind. 

You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and you’re wasting more by taking your sweet time—resting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. She’s showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, you’d be wondering why she’s this persistent. 

Maybe you’re just as important of a character in her story too, or you’re both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.

None of that is your concern right now. You’re cupping Hyewon’s face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, she’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like you’re going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together, until—

“Stop.” 

You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away. 

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s up?” 

Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. She’s staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like you’re a problem to solve—which you are—before coming to a rather alarming conclusion. “You don’t seem like you want me that bad.”

The remark doesn’t register in your brain. “What do you mean—”

She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturally—and so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you can’t get enough of. 

Watching her other movies—for research purposes—you knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display.  Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldn’t believe how well they’ve been hidden from you. 

Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so right—as if they were handmade for you.

“God, Hyem—” you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position won’t allow you. 

“They feel so good right?” Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, you’re both surprised that you’ve managed to get each other’s clothes off.

And you’re only getting started.

Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze on—until she rests her hands around your shoulders. You’re caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.

She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, she’s feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that she’s not the heaviest girl you’ve lifted before; you have some experience—mostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, you’ll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Something—or someone—you can’t ruin, or else you’d be ruined too.

You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion that’s too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her. 

It doesn’t bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo that’s been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.

You mutter the very words against her skin. 

“If not now, then when.”

They’ve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetime’s worth of regret.

Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.

“Look at me babe,” she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. “Put me down. You know why I’m here.”

You oblige without a second thought—and you’re both on a level playing field again.

Still, you can’t help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. You’re a perfect match. Even as you’re making out, you’re thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while she’s preoccupied. 

It ends up being your biggest mistake.

Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later. 

From there, it’s whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.

Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. There’s a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.

To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. She’s never looked better.

Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewon’s hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear that’s been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized. 

And it’s staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.

“You have no idea how long I wanted this,” she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure she’s building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, you’re leaking. She’s lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. “Remembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?”

She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you can’t even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. “What about it?”

“I wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.”

Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didn’t have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television. 

Now that you’re in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.

“I’m not the best at reading the room,” you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.

“Not surprising, honestly,” she says, rewarding your candor with a kiss—on your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dork?”

“Not the first time I’ve heard it from a girl,” you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. “Ah—fuck—”

A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. She’s cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell she’s having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think she’s this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image that’s universally admired by many. 

Behind that gaze, she’s thinking of more ways to further ruin you.

“I don’t think a dork like you has been with other girls,” she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. “But looking at this cock—”

She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she can’t help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesn’t stop, you’ll soon be deep in her throat, and you know she’s not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.

Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breath—then slowly melts into you. 

It’s a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s inevitable, but you’re completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful. 

It doesn’t help that she’s taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion she’s going to leave in her wake. 

“Oh—fuck—it’s so perfect,” Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hilt—and she keens. “That—that’s it—that’s the fucking spot—”

Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. “God—you’re fucking tight—”

She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling her—and she begins to move.

As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while you’re forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive. 

You’re an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in place—as if you’re in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. She’s crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And she’s being open about it too: “Why did it take us so long—ugh—”

You can only moan back. Truthfully, you’re wondering the same thing too. 

As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When she’s not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. It’s a sound not of her high class image. She’s riding you like it’s life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isn’t being stretched out.

With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You can’t lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.

And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest. 

So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewon’s body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isn’t enough that you’re feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard it’s downright pornographic, and that she’s screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. It’s now or never.

“Fuck yes—oh fuck—fucking take me—fuck—” Hyewon’s riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesn’t matter, you’re drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. She’s swearing through her tongue like she’s a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, it’s intentional. She’s determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.

And you’re going to do just that.

You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Here’s another thing that can’t be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that can’t be faked.

“God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.” There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you don’t proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. You’re not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard you’re fucking her. She can’t help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.

Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, you’re digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount you’re filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one. 

Just like that, she’s clinging to you like you’re her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength. 

The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, you’re sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comes—not with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.

You should be done at this point. It’s been a long day. You’ve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you won’t wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, there’s an image, a reputation to uphold. You’ve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetime’s worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. It’s a miracle you haven’t cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.

And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adoration—but most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired. 

By all accounts, it should be a happy ending. 

Except you’re not done. You’re not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though she’s settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much you’ve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, she’s quietly begging for more. It isn’t about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; it’s about how far you’ll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about acting, it’s that one take isn’t enough.

Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that you’re ready to take your relationship a step further. You’ll hash out the details in the morning—if she hasn’t left by then.

The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower. 

Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. You’re squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till you’re seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. You’ve fucked her to pieces, yes, but she’s still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise. 

With two fingers stroking at her cunt, she’s keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldn’t be kept secret, but you’re more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself. 

Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. She’s clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you don’t give her a moment to breathe. It’s what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.

Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the process—only a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and you’re gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.

You’re too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But that’s the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. She’s one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, she’s everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. You’ve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It doesn’t take too long before you feel it again. The end. It’s approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasn’t going to be a drawn out affair, but you’re so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and you’re beyond waiting a second more.

You’d give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.

“Gonna cum again—fuck—” is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewon’s mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. You’ve never let up, terrified that she’ll magically disappear into nothing at any second. 

Acting fast, as if you’ve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot you’re unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.

The tattoo on her rib. 

Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiated—for now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can. 

With the ‘quick’ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom. 

You don’t even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.

—————

“This is your fault you know,” says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. “I’m supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet I’m still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.”

It’s already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewon’s doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency she’s speaking about, she doesn’t seem to be interested in moving any time soon.

At least you’re awake and sensible enough to fire back. “Who’s fault is that? I wasn’t the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.”

She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. “And I wasn’t the one who spent the last 18 months saying we’re just friends.”

You’re already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh. 

Hyewon laughs. It’s what won over millions, including you. You’re taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew there’d be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, you’d do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing. 

“So—about that show,” you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, “What was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?”

“You mean Delete This? Let’s not.” 

Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump.  

She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. “Yeah. I mean, last night was—different, you know? I’ve shown my tits and body already, but I’ve never had sex—on screen before.”

You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.

“Jesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.”

“On the bright side, we didn’t have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?”

She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didn’t need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.

But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; it’s been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.

Hyewon’s cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. “Shame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, but—” she huffs, “I’m running late. Too bad I won’t get to have this cock for a long, long time.”

You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. “Will you, though?”

She’s taken completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Check your phone.”

After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention di–vided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well. 

Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention. 

Next thing you know, she’s grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattress—right where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.

Some jokes can go a little too far.

“You fucking asshole. You mean that—”

“Yep.”

“And it’s not—”

“It’s not.”

You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. You’re gonna love—and hate—the next 18 months with Hyewon.

“I’m going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.”

“No better way to go out.”

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite often—heck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)

[megwritesriddles]

Sweeter Than Fiction ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 7 - Queening / Face-sitting. Spencer meets Reader when she starts working at his local library and he's quickly in over his head. After he goes snooping for information on her online, he finds out a dirty little secret, she writes fanfiction.

Tags: Face-sitting, Oral sex (f receiving), Fantasies, Masturbation, Pining, Friends to lovers, Love confessions, Sub!Spencer, Autistic!Spencer (implied ig?), Both Spencer and Reader are NERDS, Set somewhere between seasons 1-3.

Word count: 4.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Surprise!! I changed a couple things on my kinktober due to lack of inspiration so here's an unexpected extra Spencer fic!! This is soooo long and the plot is so self-indulgent and ughhh but he eats you out so...!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer had never felt like this before, he hadn’t really had the chance to. Crushes had never really been his thing, having been significantly younger than his peers all throughout his education and being staunchly focused on his career ever since. He had physical attractions here and there, like an occasional reminder that he really was just a fallible human man as much as anyone else, but never any true feelings, nothing he ever wanted to try to pursue in a serious way. It wasn’t simple for him like it was for someone like Morgan, in many senses of the word. Not only was he just not socially skilled enough to pursue relationships, whether casual or otherwise, with any success, he also had a large set of difficulties that he would carry into any relationship. He was quite touch averse, not that he didn’t desperately crave it all the same, which could easily cause issues in any physical relationship. He also had a lot of emotional baggage, from his mother, from his job, from his bullying. He felt a mess emotionally and didn’t see the point in trying to bring in another person to see the mess in all its glory. So he kept to himself. He wasn’t completely without experience, but every experience he’d had was marred with difficulty and complication, none of it ever lasted. He was reasonably content to keep to himself.

Until he met you. He’d been visiting the library nearest his apartment since he moved to D.C. for work. One day he walked in and you were sitting behind the desk, all bright-eyed and excited. The attraction to you had been immediate, he’d found you to be beautiful, he liked the way you dressed, and he liked your sweet voice as you spoke to the customer in front of you. He thought it would end there, that he would silently find you attractive from afar but remained more focused on other things. Cursed to stammer nervously at you whenever you scanned his books, but never say more than necessary. For a long time, that’s all it was, until he was taking out a book that, unbeknownst to him, was a big favourite of yours.

“Oh my goodness, my favourite” you chuckle as you pick up the book from his pile. “This book is amazing, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” you smile brightly as you scan it onto his card. His fingers twitch where he rests them on the edge of the wooden counter. He hadn’t been prepared to talk to you, but it’s nicer than most things that catch him unprepared.

“Y-yeah? Uh… great,” he swallows, drumming his fingers on the counter as you scan the rest of his books, mostly textbooks. 

“Well, if you have any taste that is,” you tease. He laughs back stiffly, his mouth feeling dry. 

“I uh… like to think I do…” he smiles awkwardly.

“You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it,” you hand him the books and his brain blanks for a moment. You’re inviting him to speak to you some other time, to have an actual conversation. He moves jerkily, taking the books from you and packing them into his satchel. You smile kindly and wave to him as he leaves. “See you soon,”

The way his mind is spinning from that simple conversation, he knows that this is something different. He collapses onto a bench outside the library, taking a deep breath. Why is his heart racing? Is this what butterflies feel like? He rubs a hand through his hair, messing it up. When the anxiety fades away, he’s left with a warm feeling in his chest. You want to speak to him again. He flips open his satchel and pulls out the book you’d said was your favourite. It’s classic literature, something he’s been meaning to read for a long time now, but has somehow never gotten around to. He devours the book in mere minutes, thanks to his impressive reading speed. It’s an amazingly compelling tale, with feminist undertones that were ahead of their time and he feels he understands you just a little better by knowing you like this book. He packs it back into his satchel and stands, heading back into the library. The queue to your desk is a few people long, but he joins it anyway, fiddling with the strap of his bag. You don’t make much small talk with the people in front of him in the line, making it feel all the more special that you’d spoken to him. He reaches the front and you smile, but tilt your head in confusion.

“Forget something?”

“The book was great,” he blurts, and you look even more confused.

“What?”

“The book, the one you said was your favourite, it was phenomenal, and surprisingly progressive for its time! Having those sorts of sentiments about a woman's role in a marriage in the 18th century, while seeming slightly archaic by today's standards, must have caused quite a stir at the time, especially coming from a female author. British law in 1764 actually suggested that women–” he doesn’t realise he’s rambling until you cut him off.

“Hold on, you read it already?” you look disbelieving. He smiles sheepishly. “I only lent it to you, what?” you glance at the clock on your desktop screen. “15 minutes ago,”

“I can read very fast,” he mumbles, looking at the scuff on the toe of his shoe for a moment. You giggle.

“Yeah, clearly,” you study his face. He goes quiet, eyes flickering over the small decorations you had scattered across your desk as a means of personalising your space. “You were saying?” you prompted softly. He looked up at you in wonder, no one had ever requested he resumes an info dump, usually, he was told to shut up and looked weird, but you seemed to wait with genuine interest. Perhaps that was the moment that he was well and truly done for. He steps aside so that the person behind him in the line can get their books scanned. He talks at you for almost a whole hour, getting lost in tangent after tangent as you work. You occasionally pipe in to ask a question or make a comment, but you seem happy to listen. Suddenly, your already beautiful appearance becomes more like that of an angel or a goddess to him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life. He leaves the library after you excuse yourself for your lunch break. Once he gets home, he sits down on his couch, smiling dopily. Then, it slowly dawns on him that he’d just stood there and rattled on about various topics that he had no clue if you even had any interest in. He buries his face in his hands and groans. Has he already ruined things with the first person he’s ever felt anything genuine for? It was bound to happen eventually, but this soon? He goes to bed miserable that night.

Fortunately, his misery had been for nothing. The next time he visits the library, you’re there, all smiles at him like usual. When he comes to return his previous book haul (yes, maybe he hasn’t used the returns box since you started working here, what of it?), you greet him, asking if he has any more facts for you. At first, he thinks you’re mocking him, but the genuine smile you give tells him otherwise. He scrambles through his mind for something interesting to tell you, feeling less than a genius at this moment. He settles to ask what your favourite animal is, then spends the next several minutes telling you all the nichest information about that animal he could think of. This time, you start to talk too, though instead of spewing facts, you’re telling him personal anecdotes, or about new books the library has got in. The next several times he comes in, you end up talking for long periods of time. You never interrupt him when he rambles and in return he allows you to ramble too, not bothered by the slightest if he has to listen to you for hours. He’d do it happily. Things escalate over time, and he realises the two of you have truly become friends. The thought excites him, as he is closer to the object of his affection, but also because he doesn’t have all that many friends outside of his work. With you, he has somebody to talk books with, and that means the world to him. You text daily, though they’re not particularly long conversations, just whenever something comes up that you think might interest the other. You’d originally given him your email address and he’d explained that he didn’t use email. He felt completely silly, but you’d just shrugged it off and given him your number. Despite that, he still keeps the piece of paper onto which you scrawled your email address, tacked up by his seldom used computer. Just in case.

The team at the BAU tease him relentlessly when they find out about the ‘sweet girl from the library’ that he texts everyday. Any hint of him interacting with a woman, they latch onto like rabid wolves, but when the texts from you keep popping up on his phone now and then for weeks, they absolutely won’t leave it alone. They all know he likes you, even if he’s been very careful to not reveal this fact and they tease him about it. He’s just glad you’re never there to hear it, as he might just die from the embarrassment. One week, while staying back from a case due to a mild cold, he sits in Garcia’s office and watches her work while he does his own. She had insisted he come keep her company, and he hadn’t quite dared to tell her no. He’s scribbling down some notes about the latest crime scene photos they’ve been sent through when Garcia receives a call. It’s Morgan, asking her to run a check on an email address that may potentially belong to an unsub, to see what kind of accounts can be linked to it, and if there’s anything untoward and potentially warrant-worthy. He watches over her shoulder as she types the email address into a program, which spits back out several accounts all over the internet. He rolls his chair over, watching curiously.

“How do you do that? Is it for FBI stuff only?” he asks nervously, twirling a pen around in his fingers. Garcia laughs and glances over her shoulder. 

“No, you can find programs to do this in various places online,” she answers, highlighting accounts of potential interest. He nods, still watching over her shoulder, working his lip between his teeth. He tries to convince himself that he’s not going to do it, even as he asks Garcia to write him down one of these websites. She gives him a knowing look but obliges. He keeps telling himself he won’t do it, and that it’s creepy as he gets the train home, but as soon as he’s in his apartment, he heads for his computer and boots it up. He searches up the site that Garcia recommended and tells himself one last time that he isn’t going to do it, before copying your email address into the search field and hitting enter. He waits as the website loads the results, glancing at the door to his apartment as if you’re going to burst in and tell him off. Oh, how he wishes you’d be in his apartment one day, or he at yours. He’s never really wanted to share a space before, but lately, everything he does he imagines what it would be like to have you there. Your arms around him as he cooks, your head on his lap as he watches TV, your body against his in the bed. The website finishes its search and he takes a deep breath, investigating the results. There are various common social media websites, accounts with academic journals (which he appreciates you for), and a couple of other sites he doesn’t recognise. He clicks on the first and furrows his brows. Fanfiction? He supposes that you are a voracious reader like he is, and you mentioned liking to write, but never admitting to what you wrote. This was it then, was it? Your secret writing? It wasn’t that secret, the account was registered in your name, all the works listed being for books and media that you talked about often. You had quite a decent following, at least in his eyes, you were no celebrity, but you had a decent collection of comments and likes.

He starts to read, beginning with your most popular piece. He digests it in moments, his cheeks burning bright. It was pure pornography. Well not purely, there was quite a well-woven storyline behind it, but the focus was undoubtedly the filthy sex scenes. He loosens his tie, feeling hot. He double and triple checks that this is definitely your account, but it clearly is. He’s feeling a little disbelieving, you had just always seemed so innocent to him, but he supposed the two of you had never discussed sex in any way. Spencer would have combusted if it had ever come up. He inhales the rest of your work, getting unreasonably hard in his slacks as he reads. He’s impressed by the skill of your writing, but more than anything, by how delicious your imagination is. It’s like you’ve plucked every fantasy he’s ever allowed himself to have out of his brain and written it up with beautiful flowery language. He doesn’t know half of the characters that you’ve written for, but it doesn’t matter to him, as he imagines the two of you in their places and it works perfectly. Almost like it was written with the two of you in mind. He discards that thought, but not before noticing that you’ve been writing a lot more in the past few months you’ve known each other. He notices how many of your stories centre around a more submissive male, a favourite trope of yours seeming to be having the female partner sit on their face. He imagines you sitting on his face and groans aloud, having to palm his bulge through his slacks. He imagines you’d be like the protagonists in your stories, dominating but kind. He reaches into his slacks to stroke himself, not something he does often, but something that has certainly been more frequent lately. His eyes skim a passage of one of your stories as he tugs at himself, picturing your face between the words. He cums harder than he thinks he ever has because this feels that much closer to the real thing. Once he’s done, he sits catching his breath, staring at the mess on his hand and stomach. He thinks he should feel ashamed, but he’s still aroused, terribly so. He wishes he could show you what you do to him. Before he can stop himself, his aroused brain much less intelligent than he usually is, he makes an account on the site with his name and leaves a comment on your most recent work.

“This was the hottest thing I’ve ever read,” 

He sends it and sits back, wiping the rest of the residue off his stomach. As the haze of arousal lifts, he realises what he’s done. Panicking, he tries to delete the comment, but there’s no option to. He swallows, taking a deep breath. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, if she ever notices, I’ll pretend I was just being sarcastic, teasing her for writing this kind of thing, not genuinely rocked by it. However, his phone is already ringing. It’s you. You never call. You couldn’t have seen the comment already, could you? He seriously debates not answering, even as he’s desperate to hear your voice. Against his better judgment, he picks up the phone.

“Am I speaking to SpencerReid1981?” you chuckle over the phone, your voice teasing as you recite his username. His plans to pretend he was mocking you go out the window the second you talk. He can tell you have one over him by the confident tone in your voice. You’ve had one over him since the day you first met. 

“Y-yeah,” he relents, seeing no way out of this now. What would the chances be of another Spencer Reid born in 1981 having commented on your fanfiction? If he wasn’t so nervous and lingeringly aroused, he could’ve told you. He decides to just be earnest. “You’re a really good writer,”

“How did you even find me on there?” you scoff, laughing gently. He blushes, glad you can’t see it.

“You don’t want to know,” he mumbles. There’s a moment of silence.

“So… you found it hot, huh? What part?” he chokes slightly on his spit, going bright red, you can probably tell, even through the phone.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeaks. You hum softly on the other end.

“Oh come on… you started all this,” you coax. He’s silent for another beat, you hear his laboured breaths on the phone. 

“The- when- when she uh… sat on his face,” he stutters out. You smirk.

“Really?” you stretch out the last syllable in a playful manner. “You a big giver then?” you say it to tease him, expecting him to sputter and deny it, to beg to change the subject, but he doesn’t.

“I– I would be for you,” you both go silent, you in shock and him in fear of your reaction. You’re dumbfounded that he would ever be so direct with you. It’s been clear to you for a while that he has a thing for you, you’ve caught his lingering looks on your lips or your thighs, the way you’re able to fluster him, but you’d assumed he’d dance around it forever. He’d just essentially admitted, leaving it hanging in the air.

“Come over,” you answer simply, hanging up the phone before he can ask questions or change his mind. Spencer feels completely dumbstruck by your words. Come over? His legs are carrying him to his door before he can think about it. He grabs his bag and his coat and hurries to his car. He’s never driven so fast in his life, he’s only been at your place once, to drop you off after your work, but the way there is memorised like the back of his hand anyway. He worries in the back of his mind that he may get a speeding ticket, but any fine is worth it for you. He’s sprinting up the stairs of your apartment building, his long frame moving nimbler than ever before. He reaches your apartment and knocks at the door.

You answer the door, dressed in some loungewear and he suddenly realises how real this all is. He stands there staring, unable to do anything else, even as you greet him and tell him to come in. You have to take his arm and pull him inside, your hand on his arm lighting him on fire. But he’s shy again, he needs you to take control of this because he has no clue what he’s doing here. He’s never done something like this before, and he's never been so reckless. Did he even lock the door when he left home? You look so beautiful that everything could be stolen from him and he wouldn’t bat a lash. He fidgets, looking anywhere but your eyes. You’re talking to him but he can’t figure out what you’re saying, his brain feeling like mush. He tries his best to pick out some words from the pleasing hum of your voice. You’re saying something about your bedroom. He connects the dots when you start to pull his arm.

“Wha- wait, what are we doing?” he asks, his voice shaking. You freeze, tilting your head.

“What do you mean what are we doing?”

“I mean– uh– I wasn’t really– are we…?” he stammers, his fingers fidgeting. 

“Don’t you want this?” you frown, worrying you’d misread this somehow, even though he’d come rushing over here. He stares at you, eyebrow twitching. You move closer, gently smoothing your hand up his arm. He closes his eyes, losing himself in it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to. Whatever it is, if it’s preceded by you touching him like this, it must be good. He follows you like a puppy as you guide him to your bedroom. You place your hands on his chest and he whines, somewhere deep in his throat. The feeling is just so overwhelming in all the best ways. His eyes are wide staring down into yours as your fingers twist, gripping his sweater vest. You lean up, touching your lips to his and he’s whining again. He kisses back, his hands finding your hips, hovering. Your hands are raking through his hair.

“Lie on the bed for me,” you mumble between kisses. He shivers.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” he asks bluntly, needing to know if he’s getting what he’s been thinking about non-stop since earlier this evening, probably even before that. You chuckle at his candour, he’s always been like this and it’s endearing that he’s no different in this situation.

“That’s the idea,” you grin, tilting your head to the side to press closer as you kiss him. He shuffles toward the bed and you push him back to lie down, disconnecting your lips to pull his sweater vest off. He looks up at you pleadingly until you lean down to kiss him again. You straddle his stomach, his hands lie awkwardly at his sides. His breathing is erratic and his fingers fiddle nervously with the material of your sheets. “You okay?” you ask between slow wet kisses.

“Just nervous… I don’t– I can’t disappoint you and I– I don’t really have a lot of experience here,” he admits, his lips pressing needily against yours between words. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll take care of you,” you promise, he nods against you. Even he’s surprised by how much he trusts you. You pull back, watching as he stares up at you, his eyes practically black. He’s panting heavily. You pull your shirt over your head, feeling his hips buck under you as your breasts come into view. He’d always known every inch of you would be perfect for him, and he was right. He was a genius after all. You move just enough to shed your pyjama pants, taking your underwear with them. You stuff your panties into Spencer’s slack pocket with a wink. He takes a shaky breath. 

“Thank you,” he exhales, eyes drinking you in. You giggle, shuffling up to straddle his chest. He swallows loudly, his mouth watering from the little glimpse he can get, craning his neck. “I’m so… glad we’re doing this,” he whispers. You chuckle again at his behaviour. You stroke his hair gently and his eyes flutter. He usually hated unexpected touch, but everything you did was blissful.

“Ready?” you ask softly. He nods, eyes fluttering back open, determined to get a glimpse of you that he can commit to memory. 

You lift up and shuffle yourself over top of his face. He gasps like he’s just seen God. You, spread open above him, glistening with want. He grips tightly at the sheets, trying to keep himself grounded as the heady smell of you fills his nose. He leans up and places a gentle, experimental kiss on your folds, whining as he does so. You hum softly, leaning forward to brace yourself against the headboard. Puffs of breath wash over your core for a moment, before Spencer leans up, flattening his tongue and laving it against you, up and down, slow and steady. You can tell he’s still finding his way, so you let yourself enjoy the gentle pleasure. You sigh encouragingly as he gets acquainted with the area, exploring it with the tip of his tongue. Never in a million years would he have guessed that you tasted so good. Though he was new at this, he knew anatomy well and knew the spots he’d be looking for. His tongue finds what he assumes to be your clit and he gives it a soft kiss, feeling your hips gently buck. Success. He swirls his tongue carefully around it, not wanting to overwhelm you. Your sighs increase in volume. Spencer takes a chance, lifting his hands and wrapping them around your thighs, pulling you down so you’re more seated on his face. You gasp slightly and he smiles, eagerly returning to his work. His tongue laps at you hungrily, getting into a rhythm. He breathes through his nose, not wanting to stop what he’s doing for even a moment. The taste of you gets stronger and stronger against his tongue as you approach your peak steadily. He groans at the taste. Your hand snakes down into his hair, gripping his long locks to keep yourself anchored. You moan above him, your head lolled forward against the headboard. As he starts to focus his tongue more pointedly on your clit, flicking gently like he read to do in a book once, your hips rut slightly. 

“Suck it,” you pant. He doesn’t register your words for a moment but when he does, he happily complies. His lips close around the little nub and he sucks carefully. Your hand tightens in his hair and you wail in pleasure. You grind yourself down onto his face as he suckles at you gently. You both know what’s coming and while Spencer is thrilled he could get you there, he almost doesn’t want it to end. It’s as if you read his mind. “Don’t stop,” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging slightly into his scalp. He pulls you closer to his face, focusing all his efforts. He switches fumblingly between licks and sucks, but it seems to be working nonetheless as you become louder and louder. “Oh! Spencer!” you cry out, your whole body shuddering. He almost comes in his pants at the sound of it. “Ooooh!” you wail, reaching your peak. Your body tenses and then releases, going limp with bliss. His lips stop moving and he stares up at you, waiting for your next move. “Oh, that was amazing Spencer,” you sigh, sluggishly moving down his body until your faces are level. He licks his lips, gazing at you adoringly. You reach up to wipe his wet chin with a small smile.

“I was okay, then?” he chuckles nervously, his hand coming to your waist, a little unsure.

“What do you think, genius?” you tease, kissing his temple. He sighs and flutters his eyes closed. Everything had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure what this meant for the two of you and your friendship, so blinded by lust when he got over here. But you were kissing down his jaw and neck, not indicating that you were kicking him out, and he felt a little better for it. He notices that your lips are straying quite low, over his chest and stomach through his shirt. His eyes flutter open and his breath hitches as he sees you gazing seductively up at him.

“Wha–?” he stammers as you start to unbuckle his belt.

“Returning the favour,” you smile, pressing kisses where his shirt had ridden up. He moans softly, his brain starting to turn to mush once more.

“God, I love you,” he gasps. You both go still for a moment as his words sink in. He can’t believe he just said that, especially right now, with your head hovering over his crotch, even if he desperately means it. He opens his mouth to try and fix this but you beat him to it. You press a kiss just below his belly button.

“I love you too,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Delusional - Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

Masterlist

summary: In which the internet once again is fooled by your slightly overdramatic side. Rumors about Lando dumping you circulate but luckily the Mclaren driver is just as delusional as you are. Social Media Au

y/nfewtrell

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y/nfewtrell in my feelings bruh

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maxfewtrell did you take my hoodie?

y/nstans what why????

user567 sense a breakupppp

f1islife stunning

arthur_leclerc *plays taylor swift

user345 arthur what do you know

y/nandlan Lando didn’t like?!

user567 see his post? he seems completely unbothered

user898 Landos too good for her anyw

f1gossip you sound bitter

user787 i just always had weird vibes from her

f1gossip we‘ve met y/n and she‘s literally an angel

y/nfewtrell thanks means a lot

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell and 567‘897 others

landonorris how I try to entertain

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user687 such a hottie

f1fans someone say unbothered cough

georgerussell63 I thought you were on a diet?

alex_albon he‘s abt 4ft tall he doesn’t need a diet

mclaren next week we back to veggies

f1lover wheres the missus

user789 y/n doesn’t attend most gps she goes to university

f1fans yeah but so do Alex and Kika yet they seem to be way more supportive

user789 I‘m sure shes supportive just maybe also focused on her on career?

y/nstans y/n not liking landos post has me scaredddd

maxfewtrell looking smug

landonorris thanks bestieeee

maxfewtrell

Paris

liked by landonorris and 123‘890 others

maxfewtrell took the little nugget to paris @y/nfewtrell

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user578 she‘s so cute

f1lover peeping the papaya phone case

norrisandme yes also Lando liked! they goood

y/nfrance we met her yesterday and she seemed fine

arthur_leclerc the nugget in the big city

y/nfewtrell miss you archer

f1gossip my fave friendship

user787 why is she already flirting with guys when the rumors aren’t comfirmed

maxfewtrell oh god if you think y/n can flirt you‘re in for suprises

y/nfewtrell thanks maxie :) loved the trip

team_quadrant let’s go to Brazil!!!!

f1gossip

liked by user676 and 12‘899 others

f1gossip You guys know we normally don’t cover anything realitionship releated but it looks like Lando and Y/n are going through some crisis. She appeared on a tiktok crying after a series of mysterious tweets and instagram posts. Neither her or Lando have yet confirmed the rumors. But she has been absent from his likes and vice versa.

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user676 she’s making it obvious

f1fans cloutchaser?

y/nstans shut up

landonorris @y/nfewtrell care to explain missy

y/nfewtrell no i dont care to, peace out

user676 omg they commented

norrislove they clearly are clowing y‘all

maxfewtrell the woman cries like twelfe times a day and people still wonder?

landonorris twelfe is a little much, ten maybe eleven

y/nfewtrell I have my reasons this time!

y/nfewtrell

Austin Texas

liked by charlottesine and 234‘890 others

y/nfewtrell my lanlan. I formally apologize for being a lot to handle sometimes. I do love you more than words could even get close to explain. Thanks for being the best boyfriend and bestfriend. Thanks for pretending I‘m 21 forever.

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landonorris my world, anything for you 🧡

y/nfewtrell love youuu

maxfewtrell disgusting

maxfewtrell we all know she aint 21, plus he’s MY bestfriend

f1gossip we stan an overdramatic queen

charlottesine power couple

y/nfewtrell thanks chacha

user787 how annoying all that for such a petty reason

f1fans right i was relieved he had dumped her ass

y/nstans sad people you are, she clearly makes him happy

arthur_leclerc happy 21st I guess ;)

landonorris whats with the wink you twat

f1user y/n control your mans

landonorris

liked by f1 and 1‘124‘799 others

landonorris happy 21st birthday to the most beautiful 21 one year old I know. I love you so much eventhough your overdramatic soul makes people assume we broke up every couple of months. I love you my angel.

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user676 21!?!?

f1gossip look at y/ns post

f1lover they have me dead

charles_leclerc isn’t she-

arthur_leclerc shut up charlie

maxfewtrell tell them!

y/nfewtrell thanks bean. I love you more.

maxfewtrell bean? cringe

kellypiquet such a beautiful girl

f1gossip so the whole drama reallly was bc she doesn’t wanna turn 22 hahaha

user67 she‘s truly overdramatic

f1 we love a supportive and delusional king

mclaren like a true gentleman Mr.Norris

maxfewtrell

Sao Paulo

liked by oscarpiastri and 123‘788 others

maxfewtrell happy 22nd second you LIAR, never thought Lando would go as delulu as you. Love you nugget.

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[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

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

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

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

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

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

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

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

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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[rene-spade]

miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry

poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)

synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?

note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry

WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)

miss.y/n📍belle river, la

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others

miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠

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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗

miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected

user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am

user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️

charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!

see translation | your mom is right

user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???

user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️

carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening

user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3

user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH

user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??

user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun

user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣

liked by miss.y/n

♤ ♤ ♤

♤ ♤ ♤

Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.

“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.

“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.

“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”

Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.

When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.

“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.

“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.

x

Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.

Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”

“So we will just go there!”

“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.

“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.

“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.

They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.

“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)

“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”

“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.

“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”

“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)

“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.

“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”

But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.

“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.

“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.

“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)

Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”

“We are nice!”

“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.

She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.

“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”

“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”

♤ ♤ ♤

♤ ♤ ♤

miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la

liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others

miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆

view comments

user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM

user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on

user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in

miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either

bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3

miss.y/n <3 literally

user BELLA⁉️

arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!

see translation | my sister

user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL

user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge

user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣

x

this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee

taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz

Ren

[earthchica]

Give In

bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader

summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.

warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)

note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.

-

Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.

However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.

Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.

When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.

For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.

He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.

“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.

"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.

Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"

“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.

Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.

"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.

“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.

"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.

As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.

"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.

"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.

As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.

You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.

Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.

The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.

You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.

There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.

You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.

Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.

As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.

With a contented sigh, you sank into it.

Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.

You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.

"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.

"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."

You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.

“Maybe!”

“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.

“What is it?”

“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."

You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."

"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.

"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely

"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.

He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.

Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.

"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.

"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.

Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.

"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.

“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.

You smirked. “You think so?

“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.

“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.

“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.

"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.

“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.

"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.

"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.

You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.

The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.

Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.

"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.

As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.

You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.

You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.

As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.

You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.

In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.

Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.

Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.

It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.

Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.

A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.

His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.

Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.

"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.

"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.

"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.

You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.

"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.

You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"

"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.

"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."

He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.

"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.

After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.

Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.

Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.

"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.

"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.

“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.

You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.

You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.

Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.

“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.

“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.

You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.

Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.

“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.

“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”

“I-i do but…it’s….”

You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.

“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.

The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.

“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.

You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.

Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.

A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.

He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.

"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.

You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.

Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.

His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.

"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.

He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."

And indeed he did.

Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.

This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.

"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.

"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.

Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.

"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers. 

A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.

"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.

You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.

"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.

"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.

He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.

You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.

"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.

"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.

"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.

You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.

"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.

You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.

You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.

"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.

"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.

"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.

"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.

This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.

Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.

"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.

The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.

Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.

"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."

You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.

You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.

"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.

"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.

You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.

"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled

"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.

"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.

"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.

This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.

Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.

You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[chelseaknoo]

Hey! So, imagine it’s the 2000s, and Eminem has this huge crush on a super-famous pop singer. In an interview, the interviewer asks his opinion on her, and he openly admits that he finds her attractive, which gets everyone talking. Then, they end up collaborating on a song together, and the music video they make is super hot. Fans completely lose it because they can totally tell there’s something going on between them!

2000s Eminem x pop singer! Reader

Caution:sexual content <3

During an interview, Eminem was asked about the up-and-coming pop singer Y/N, and he didn’t hold back his admiration. “I think she’s incredibly attractive and makes really good music,” he said, a slight smile hinting at something more. For a while now, Eminem had found himself drawn to her—her beauty was undeniable, but it was her warm, genuine personality that truly captivated him.

Though he’s known for his tough, edgy persona, Eminem couldn’t help but soften when he spoke about her. Y/N was different from anyone he’d encountered in the industry. Her presence was refreshing, a mix of talent and kindness that seemed to come naturally to her. He’d been following her rise to fame, noticing the way her fans adored her and the way her music connected with people. Eminem couldn’t deny it—he was crushing on her, and the thought of a collaboration had even crossed his mind more than once. Little did he know, his candid words in the interview would spark rumors and excitement among fans who couldn’t wait to see what might happen between the rapper and the rising pop star.

When you found out about what Eminem had said about you during the interview, you were completely taken aback. At first, it didn’t seem real—it was hard to process that someone as big as him would openly talk about you like that. The words played over and over in your head: “I think she’s incredibly attractive and makes really good music.”

You were shocked, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you. It was flattering, sure, but also a little overwhelming. You’d always admired Eminem’s music, his talent, and his larger-than-life persona, but the idea that he had noticed you, let alone had a genuine crush, sent your heart racing.

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered. His words were unexpected, and the attention was something you weren’t quite used to, especially coming from a major artist like him. You thought about it all day, the weight of his comment sinking in. Was he just being polite, or was there something more behind his words? Either way, it definitely left you with more questions than answers.

A week later, you received a message from none other than Eminem himself. He reached out to ask if you’d be interested in collaborating on a song. The moment you read his message, your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't believe it—Eminem, the legendary rapper you had admired for so long, was asking to work with you.

Without hesitation, you excitedly agreed. You had no doubts, no second thoughts. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, and the idea of working with him, especially after everything that had happened with the interview, sent a rush of excitement through you.

You immediately replied, expressing how thrilled you were at the prospect of collaborating with him. The thought of creating something together felt surreal, and you couldn’t wait to dive into the creative process. You knew this was going to be huge—not just for your career, but for you personally.

Our teams met to discuss the creative direction of the collaboration, and the conversation quickly took an intriguing turn. They proposed making the song sensual and centered around the complexities of a relationship—intense, passionate, and unapologetically raw. As they laid out the concept, I felt a warmth rise to my cheeks. I couldn’t help but blush at the idea.

The thought of creating something so intimate, especially with him, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. It would be a bold step, a departure from anything I’d done before, and the prospect of exploring that kind of connection through music was electrifying. I glanced over at him as the conversation unfolded, trying to gauge his reaction. He seemed unfazed—confident, even—his expression suggesting he was more than ready to dive into the challenge.

After finishing the recording sessions for the song, the next step was to film the highly-anticipated music video. The energy on set was electric, a mix of excitement and nerves hanging in the air. You sat in front of the mirror, makeup artists diligently working to perfect your look. Brushes moved with precision, adding the final touches of shimmer to your eyes and gloss to your lips. The anticipation built with every passing second, and you could feel your heart pounding just a bit faster.

You adjusted the robe draped around you, its fabric soft against your skin. Beneath it, you wore delicate, lacy black lingerie chosen specifically for the shoot—a bold move, but one that fit the sensual vibe of the song. It felt both empowering and a little nerve-wracking to know what was coming next.

One of the makeup artists stepped back, admiring her work. “You look stunning,” she said with a smile, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” you replied, managing a small smile in return. “I just hope I don’t trip over this robe or something,” you joked, trying to shake off the nerves.

The door to the dressing room opened, and he walked in. Eminem, in all his calm, cool confidence, took a quick glance around before his eyes landed on you. There was a spark of something in his gaze—approval, maybe even a hint of surprise. “You ready for this?” he asked, a playful edge to his voice.

You nodded, tightening the belt of the robe instinctively. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you could hear. “It’s gonna be fire. Just do your thing.”

His words sent a jolt of confidence through you. “You too,” you replied, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before he turned and walked out. The weight of the moment sank in. This video was going to be unforgettable, and you were ready to give it everything you had.

You took a deep breath and stood in front of the mirror, taking one last glance at yourself in the lingerie before slowly sliding the robe off your shoulders. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but the heat of anticipation made you feel warm all over. With one final look at your reflection, you stepped toward the door, ready to face what was ahead.

As you opened the door and stepped out, you found Marshall already waiting for you. He was sitting on the bed, his shirt off, his toned chest and arms on full display. His tattoos, which you had noticed before but never fully admired, seemed to tell stories with their intricate designs, each one adding to his raw, unapologetic energy. The way the tattoos stretched over his muscles caught your attention for a moment, and you couldn't help but admire the way he looked.

He glanced up at you, his expression unreadable at first, but as his eyes traveled over you, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You look incredible,” he said, his voice low and almost hushed.

You smiled, sitting down beside him on the soft bed, the sheets rustling under you as you settled into place. The room was charged with an electric tension, and the crew started setting up the cameras, ensuring everything was in place for the shoot. The anticipation in the room grew as you waited, a sense of nervous excitement bubbling up inside you.

Once everything was ready, the cameras began rolling. Without missing a beat, Marshall started rapping, his words flowing effortlessly as he moved closer to you. He didn’t need a microphone—the raw power of his voice was enough to fill the room, his lyrics sharp and intense. As he rapped, he reached out and pulled you closer, his hands confidently guiding your exposed body toward him. The camera captured every movement, every kiss, as he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His hands roamed, tracing the curves of your body as if the song was meant for this exact moment.

The kiss deepened, and you felt the heat rise between you. His lips moved with yours in perfect sync as the music played on, his touch both tender and commanding. His body pressed against yours, his rhythm matching the intensity of the song, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, lost in the moment. The cameras captured it all—every kiss, every touch, every second of undeniable chemistry.

The atmosphere in the room was palpable, the energy of the shoot merging with the passion of the music. As Marshall continued rapping, you couldn’t help but be swept up in the power of the moment, your body responding to his, and the song taking on a life of its own.

His hands moved lower, tracing the line of your body as the music echoed through the room. The entire world outside the set seemed to fade away as you both got lost in the moment, the only thing that mattered being the connection between you and the music.

You brung your soft manicured hands up to your soft breasts engulfed by a lacy bra and squeezed them to appear more sexier to the camera as Marshall flipped off the camera.

This would most definitely be the thumbnail for the video.

The director called "cut," signaling the end of the scene. You and Marshall both took a step back, the intensity of the moment slowly dissipating as the crew moved in to adjust equipment and set up for the next shot. You exchanged a quiet smile before heading to your designated room to relax for a bit.

After a few hours, you wrapped up your recording, feeling a mix of accomplishment and exhaustion. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in your veins, but now you were looking forward to some downtime. You changed out of your wardrobe, slipping into something more comfortable, and made your way outside to your car.

Just as you reached the door of your vehicle, you heard someone call your name from behind. You turned to see Marshall walking toward you, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Hey," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So, I was wondering... would you want to grab a drink sometime? Maybe go out... on a date?"

The question caught you off guard, but in the best possible way. His voice had a casual tone, but you could sense there was something genuine beneath it. You paused for a moment, taking in the sincerity of his expression, then smiled back at him.

"A date, huh?" you replied, teasing him slightly. "Are you asking me out, Marshall Mathers?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, we’ve spent all this time together on set, and I think you're pretty cool. It’d be nice to get to know you outside of all this craziness."

Your heart skipped a beat, the warmth of his words settling comfortably in your chest. It felt like a simple question, but in that moment, it carried a weight that made everything feel real.

"Alright," you said with a smile, feeling the excitement rise in your chest. "I’d like that."

Marshall grinned, clearly pleased with your answer. "Great," he said. "I’ll text you the details. We’ll figure something out."

As you got into your car, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Something had shifted between you two, and this date felt like the beginning of something new—something that, at the very least, would be interesting to explore.

When the music video dropped, it immediately sent shockwaves through the entertainment world. The buzz was undeniable, and the media couldn't get enough of it. News outlets were abuzz with headlines discussing the video, focusing on the undeniable chemistry between you and Marshall. The press quickly latched onto the idea that there was more than just a professional collaboration between the two of you. Everyone seemed to think that what they saw on screen was more than just a performance.

Magazines, tabloids, and news articles were all over the story. Some claimed the chemistry between you two was off the charts, while others speculated about a potential romance, pointing to the way your bodies intertwined during the video and the flirtatious energy that seemed to linger between every take. The media was fascinated, and the public couldn't stop talking about it. Fans and critics alike were all over the speculation, analyzing every glance, every touch, and every word exchanged between you both on screen.

Interviews with both you and Marshall quickly followed. Journalists from all over lined up to ask about the video, the song, and, of course, the undeniable tension between the two of you. Everyone wanted to know if it was real—if what they saw in the video was an accurate reflection of what was going on behind the scenes. And while you both kept things light and playful, the questions kept coming, making it nearly impossible to escape the growing rumors.

The attention, both positive and negative, was overwhelming. The video had clearly left a mark, one that many believed was the beginning of something far deeper than just a professional relationship. Whether you were together or not, the world seemed to be entranced by the idea of the two of you.

And of course we decided to keep the people guessing <3

[gguk-n]

Hey so i was listening to boyfriend by Johnny orlando - and i was wondering if you could do a plot where lando just kept the reader around because he likes the idea of her because she is so giving and understanding and like she worships him but he doesn’t find her the most beautiful woman so he is easily distracted and kind of embarrassed to take her out in public and the reader understands it but in a negative way as if she is not enough for him and she leave him but when she does lando understands her importance and he wants to make it right

With a happy ending?! Am i asking too much

You can totally ignore it if you dont like the idea . Much love ♥️

Thanks for the request!! I might've taken some liberties with the request but I've tried to stay as true to it as I could. A lot of angst.

TW- Separation anxiety, panic attack

Girlfriend

The first time Lando met Y/N was at a club, he was celebrating one of Max's wins. The club was crowded and packed to the brim, he had had a couple shots and was nursing a glass of whiskey, he wasn't sure how he ended up with when a girl approached him. She was average, but he didn't mean it in a bad way since he was probably average to most people. She tapped his shoulder to get his attention; "I know this isn't the place people ask people out on a date but will you go out with me?" she asked loudly. Lando was amused by her confidence, "I don't even know your name, sweetheart" he whispered in her ear. A shiver ran down Y/N's back, "I'm Y/N. You're hot and I don't think I would approach you if I was completely sober" she giggled. "Why not?" Lando asked puzzled, ""Sober me isn't this confident" she beamed. "hmm...I think I would like to get to know drunk and sober you" Lando said making the girl smile. She fumbled around in her purse and pulled out her business card which had her name, phone number and email with the company she worked at, at the back. "Here. Call me or text me" she said placing the card in his palm and winking before she left.

Lando thought about it for a couple days, he liked her confidence. So, he texted her. That's how they had started dating. Initially, Y/N didn't know who Lando was; even though Lando had thought she was someone who knew who he was and asked him out. Initially, Lando planned on dating her for a while just because no one had asked him out before. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months; Lando started to grow dependent on her. Even though Y/N didn't know about Lando's career in the beginning; she knew about Formula One more than most drivers or the FIA combined. She read up on all the races and all the teams and all the drivers. She wanted to make a good impression on all the people who surrounded Lando.

To her, Lando was a beacon of light in dark times. He needed her just like she needed him, at least that's what she thought. Y/N always had separation anxiety and since she started dating Lando, it had grown exponentially and the thought of losing Lando would send her on a downward spiral. Lando had no idea how dependent Y/N had grown to him. To Lando, she was someone he started dating because she asked him out but eventually grew used to having around. He liked the ego boost she gave him, she wouldn't get tired of singing praises about him or bragging about how great Lando was in the 2 years that they had been dating. Lando loved the commodity that came with having a girlfriend that was at your beck and call.

Lando wasn't a very outwardly affectionate person towards Y/N, ever. So, Y/N chalked it up to everyone is different and some people don't like PDA. Sometimes, it irked her. Because, she would notice him being affectionate with his friends but holding her hand was foreign to him. He never went public with her, leaving the people to speculate what was going on between them. Sometimes, the voices in her head would get louder and tell her Lando didn't really love her but he always said he loved her, so those voices were wrong, she told herself.

It was at a McLaren work event, there were a lot of sponsors present. She saw Lando interact with people, her eyes never leaving him or dimming down as they sparkled watching him talk to people. One of the sponsors, a woman a few years older than Lando, left a sour taste in her mouth. Her hands lingered on his for an uncomfortable amount of time but she pushed those thoughts aside and placed herself in between them to ease the tension.

Then at a race weekend, she had decided to ask Carlos to make her some coffee since his coffee always helped with her headache. Carlos was currently talking to Lando near the Ferrari hospitality. She didn't mean to eves drop but she happened to hear the conversation between them; "I mean, she's great and all but some of the models that approach me or some of the celebrities that come to the races, they are gorgeous. Y/N , she's okay. She works a 9 to 5, I don't expect her to be Anne Hathaway or anything" Lando told Carlos. The pounding in Y/N's head had gotten louder, she turned around and headed back to Lando's driver's room.

The way back felt tortuous, her breathing had gotten uneven. She felt it, the last time she had a panic attack was so long ago. Lando gave her so much comfort, she felt so loved always but right now, she felt like nothing made sense. As she closed the door, her breathing was ragged, she had fallen down on the floor on her knees, tears streaming as every voice in her head started chanting; you're not special, look he's bored of you, you're not pretty, who would want you? you're too much, you're too clingy, Lando doesn't love you. Y/N buried her nails in her palms as she tried to shut the voices down. Her head was pounding and her vision had blurred with all the tears running down her face. She crawled up to find a paper and pen. She wiped her tears off and just like she would try to get over her panic attacks before, she started writing on the paper in capital letters. LANDO LOVES ME. LANDO NORRIS LOVES ME. She found herself chanting that as she tried to even out her breathing. After a couple of minutes, the ringing in her ears and the pounding in her head had subsided. The papers lay sprawled on the floor. She pushed herself up on the sofa in the room. It took a while but she was back.

Lando had noticed his girlfriend's absence. Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to sit here for long. She told one of Lando's mechanic's before leaving, not having the heart to face Lando. A few minutes after she boarded a taxi, Lando texted her to get some sleep and that he'd be back after free practice.

Y/N couldn't help but think about all the times Lando wouldn't tell people about her or conveniently forget to introduce her. All those times stuck out to her like a sour thumb. She felt so many emotions and the biggest of them all was anxiety that Lando didn't truly love her. Y/N shut down that day, like she always did whenever things got too difficult. She didn't talk to Lando, saying that she wasn't well or go to the races the entire weekend.

They flew back home together, Y/N was too quite the whole time making Lando uncomfortable with the silence. Back home, she quietly started to clean up the house, trying mustering up courage to talk to Lando about how she had been feeling. But she couldn't really muster up enough courage. Lando could sense something was wrong but whenever he would try to bring it up, she would just brush him off.

A few days of silent treatment on her part and Lando was going mad. "Baby, Y/N, is everything okay?" Lando asked his girlfriend who was sat reading a book. "Yeah" she nodded not even looking up. "You've been acting strange since we came back" he pointed out. Y/N placed the book down and looked at Lando with tears in her eyes, "What happened?" Lando asked cupping her cheeks. "I think we should take a break" she whispered. "Why?" he asked. "I just...I need time. I...I feel like..." she stuttured, "too dependent on you. My separation anxiety is at an all time high, I can't lose you, I'm scared I'll lose you, so, it's better to distance ourselves" she thought but no words left her house. "I need time. I don't think we're right for each other" she finally mustered out. Lando's hands dropped to her side. "You don't mean that?" he stuttured. "Yes I do" she breathed out. "I think I'll leave" she said getting up. "To where?" he asked. "I think I need time for myself Lando" she mumbled as she left to pack her stuff.

Her brain was on autopilot, she packed up her stuff even though she didn't want to. "Bye Lando" she said walking towards the door, "I've always loved you, I don't think I'll ever stop" she thought as she shut the door. Lando was stood there shocked at what had just transpired.

The days after Y/N left, things at Lando's house or for Lando were different. He was quick to feel her absence from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. Every little thing he did or thought about doing was plagued by Y/N and how she would do it for him.

The next race weekend, Lando couldn't focus. Everyone saw, from the fans to the engineers; everyone saw how Y/N's absence was affecting Lando. It was his dad who sat him down after the race and decided to talk to him, "What's up Lando?" he asked. "Nothing dad" he forced a smile. "I know Y/N not being here is affecting you. Did you two fight?" he prodded. Lando sighed, "Kind of, she said she wants a break" Lando said. "oh, what about you? What do you want?" he questioned. "I....I" he breathed in, "I want her" he told his dad finally. "Than tell her. Talk it out, if you two can't see eye to eye than their's nothing left. But don't regret never having tried" his dad advised. Lando perked up at his dad's words.

Lando was able to contact Y/N soon since she hadn't blocked him anywhere. They planned to meet up at a local cafe, after a lot of insistence on Lando's part.

The day they were gonna meet came, Lando dressed up. He got there early and waited for Y/N to walk in to the cafe. When she did, he couldn't help but smile. But when he tried to hug her, she cut him off. She took the seat opposite to him.

"Hey" Lando broke the silence. Y/N was sat playing with her hands and without looking up, "hi" she replied slowly. "Y/N, can you look at me? I just...I miss you. Please can we talk about this?" he said, "About us" he spoke pointing in between them. She finally looked up, her eyes were teary. "I miss you too" she mumbled. "Than come back. I love you baby" Lando stated. "I don't know Lando. I just feel like maybe we aren't meant to be" she muttered while picking at her skin. "Bullshit, you're the only person who was ever meant for me" Lando stated. "All these days away from you made me realise that. I love you not just because of having you around but because it's you. I need you in my life" Lando explained. "But you could have anyone. Any model, any pretty girl. I just... Lan" she broke down, "I feel like I'm not good enough for you. I've seen you with people and how affectionate you are and than when it comes to me, you're the completely opposite. I feel like I'm not important to you" she sobbed. "No, baby, you are the most important person to me. I'm sorry, I never tried to show it. I was stupid, please give me another chance. Let me show you how much I love you. Please" Lando begged holding on to her hands. "Lando, I'm scared of losing you. I can't always live with the thought of losing you" she explained pulling her hands away. "Let me show you. I'll do better I promise." Lando said determined. "Give me one chance. I won't disappoint you" Lando pleaded. Y/N thought about it; she still loved Lando and she couldn't let him go just yet. So, she nodded. "Thank you. I love you Y/N. I'll do everything to show you how important and loved you are" Lando stated with a big smile and got up from his chair and leaned in to peck her lips. "I love you" he reiterated pulling away. "I love you too" Y/N said finally looking Lando in the eyes.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

okay.....inhales...... UNIVERSITY AU!!!!!! Crew members as university professors x student! Reader who has a massive, explosive, crush on them!!!!

💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

TEACHERS PET— Professor! Crew Members x Student! Reader who has a massive crush on them!

warnings: college! AU, student/teacher relationship dynamics, power dynamics, reader is 18. No NSFW in this one,jimmy being manipulative, the characters being a little inappropriate.

note: y'all want a part 2? I can make one where the reader proposes, and then one with relationship dynamics and how it would play out. angst maybe? Lemme know.

PROF. GRANT CURLY

He would be the professor of data science/and or aerospace engineering, with astrophysics.

Extremely well liked at the University, students and teachers alike look up to him due to his approachable demeanor and calm and respectable nature.

Very responsible as an authoritative figure, in his years of expertise, he's never had a single complaint ever come in from the board or from any student/guardian.

Which is why he basically fell into a dilemma when you one of his top students, started looking at him in a way that he was sure wasn't platonic.

Curly is very strict on keeping his personal and professional life apart.

He tried to convince himself, that it was just a puppy crush and it would soon go away.

But boy oh boy, nothing had prepared him for the day that you snuck into his office in the pretense of asking subject related questions.

He could practically feel your eyes being fixated on him, it didn't help how you were so devastatingly attractive either.

He doesn't wanna risk his career, and your educational prowess.

But God, He doesn't know how he's going to handle this predicament he's gotten himself into.

PROF. JIMMY ZARE

Oh boy. Oh dear.

He's a Psychology Professor fasho.

You've chosen the wrong older man to fall in love, this guy is literally the man LDR sings about.

Sure, he was probably the strictest and sternest professor on campus grounds, but he was also... The sexiest one, and he didn't even hide the fact that he didn't know how many young adults in the institution were practically drooling over him. His rough stud persona.

He never paid them any attention, sure he dropped in flirty smiles and winks every now and then to get the girls weak in their knees, but that all stopped when he laid his eyes on you.

you were this young, bright, cheery and oh so beautiful student, who happened to look at him in a way which he wasn't unfamiliar with.

He knew you were falling, hard.

Normally, he would of just ignored your desperate attempts at getting to know him, telling you off or extreme case just sleep with you to fulfill your desires of extra credits.

But no, you weren't looking at him entirely for lust, oh no no no.

He recognised that you were madly, deeply, in love.

And to him, you just seemed so tempting.

Like an angel whose wings he had to rip apart, a beautiful doll whose innocence he had to taint.

And he isn't quite sure if he's going to pass out on the opportunity.

PROF. ANYA MARINOVA

Psychology/Biology professor.

Extremely sweet, yet extremely stern, like curly, she prefers to keep her work and professional life separate.

She understands body language really well, so she was quick to catch onto your lingering eyes on her.

She acknowledges the fact that having romantic feelings for an authoritative figure is completely normal and part of a normal human psyche.

What she doesn't,is to act upon those feelings.

When she noticed you staying back during classes

She tries to play it coy, not giving you any attention.

But at one point, she begins to question even her morals.

Maybe it's not too bad? Time will tell.

PROF. SWANSEA HAROLD

Definitely the professor of Mechanical Engineering/Computer Engineering.

The typical no-nonsense straight to the point type professor.

Is extremely stern, hence is quite unpopular with the students.

It's a good day if he even acknowledged your existence, let alone engaging in a conversation.

He is quick to call out mistakes, hence if you wanna stand out you have to be a very good student who doesn't make any trouble or aren't inattentive.

He appreciates the students who actually take interest in the material rather than just mug everything up for passing.

But he isn't dumb, he's had his fair share of students crushing on him during his first years on the job.

He knows when a student starts paying too much attention to the guy teaching a boring ass physics formula.

He knows better than to indulge in their fantasies, to give them the delusional idea that something might be possible between the two of you.

But you caught his attention not just for your looks, okay maybe a little bit for your looks. but he'd also noticed how diligent you were as a student.

He's starting to question maybe it won't be too bad, it's been a while since he had some game. and you're both adults, so it should be fine right?

GUEST PROF. DAISUKE JUANEZ

Bro stormed through school and managed to bag the position as a guest lecturer at your college for a mechanical engineering course.

Since he's literally so unbelievably young, he has fangirls and fanboys left and right, and he knows it, he isn't dense.

But he promised himself he won't date any students since he thought they would only see him as a fantasy not someone to genuinely love.

But that was until you came into the picture.

He felt something the moment you locked eyes with him, he saw something in those eyes of yours, staring at him so dreamily.

He knows he's young, and he knows that you're as well, but he also knows that anything inappropriate between the two of you could result in him losing his job and risking even your future.

But he knows how to keep a secret, maybe you can as well?

[mirohlayo]

YOU STOLE IT

( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )

warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff

note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!

word count : 4.9k

Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.

This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.

But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.

Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?

He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.

And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.

They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.

And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.

But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.

You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.

But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.

He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.

Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.

He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.

But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?

The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.

“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”

Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.

“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.

Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.

Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"

But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.

The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.

“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.

The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.

And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.

As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.

That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.

So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.

He finally found you.

The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.

It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.

"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.

He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.

“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”

This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.

And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.

You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.

The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.

And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.

“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.

"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.

Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?

"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.

"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.

Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.

"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.

A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.

Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.

It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.

He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.

To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.

-

England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.

Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.

Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.

A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?

Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.

Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.

He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.

-

It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.

He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.

He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.

“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.

“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.

You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.

It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.

The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.

And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.

And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.

You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.

You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.

No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.

He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.

You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."

He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”

In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.

You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.

[sorchathered]

Let’s do IT for our country

Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?

Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.

A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.

Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!

For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.

His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.

He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.

He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.

Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.

“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…

“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.

“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.

You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.

“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.

“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.

“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.

“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.

“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.

It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.

You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.

You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.

“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.

“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.

It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.

You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.

“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.

A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.

“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.

“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.

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