#with THIS publicist?

[daenerys-targaryen]

[no-144444]

2 hands-l.norris

summary: your stunt-driver pulled out the day before the shoot, good thing you're dating an f1 driver.

pairing: lando norris x fem! singer! reader

a/n: I, like everyone else, was convinced he'd be in the music video, but alas, no. so here's this to hopefully make up for that :)

kind of smut so 18+

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Fuck,” you groaned, flinging yourself onto your bed. 

“You alright baby?” Lando asked, putting his phone down and looking at you. He very much appreciated the sight in front of him, his girlfriend in nothing but tiny sleep shorts and an old quadrant hoodie. He smiled as you crawled into bed with him. 

“The stunt driver for the shoot tomorrow just cancelled,” you frowned, cuddling up to his side. “We’ll have to reschedule, so then the release date of the song will be pushed back, and the release of the tour dates, and-”

“I can do it,” he offered. 

You snapped your head to look at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “What kind of car is it?”

“A McLaren,” you nodded and he smiled. “This is genius, and we don’t even have to show your face so it won’t reveal anything-”

“We could show my face and just tell people we’re together,” he shrugged, pulling you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. “It has been 2 years, and this song is about me,” he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but nodded all the same. “I have an idea! Let me call the director!” you smiled, jumping off his lap as he frowned at the loss of contact. You quickly ran into your office to start making plans for the next day, excited at your new idea. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You had entirely rewritten the script for the video, but everyone was much more into the new version, so no one was that upset. Also, everyone was ecstatic that you’d finally decided to include Lando in a video, finally showing the public that you two were together. 

The first scene you two had to film was in the car dealership where you were buying a McLaren. You were wearing a simple but pretty dress with a black leather racing jacket. You caught Lando’s eye as he was reading over the script and he smirked, smacking your ass as you went by. You chuckled and hit his hand back, effectively shooing him away so you could get to your spot.

When you got to your spot, the cameras rolled and the director shouted action, and off you went. 

“So what’re you looking for?” Max F, the ‘actor’ playing the car salesman, smirked. Yes, you’d gotten Max in on it too.

“Something fast.” 

The camera flashed between the two of you, then to the orange McLaren behind you. 

“I’ll need a test drive,” you smirked, and the camera panned to Lando, clad in a beautiful purple and orange racing suit tied around his waist, a shirt with the car dealerships logo on it, and a smirk on his face. He jingled the keys and the intro to the song started playing, then they cut. 

“Perfect!” Kyle, the director, shouted. “We’ll get it from a few more angles, then move on.”

Next was a shot of the two of you in the car, Lando wearing sunglasses as he drove through the LA streets as you lip synced to the first verse of the song, the angles changing every few words. After shooting that a couple of times, you two got a break. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“You look fucking incredible,” he muttered, pressing kiss after kiss along your next as you two sat in your trailer.  “So fucking sexy.”

You chuckled,slightly pushing him off of you. “Calm down, Megan will kill me if I have any more ‘accidents’ to cover up.”

He shook his head, watching you as you got up. “You’re so beautiful,” he smiled. “So smart too.”

“Well, thank you baby,” you smiled. “Ready to take your shirt off?” 

He chuckled. “Oh yeah.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The next scene was pretty risque, it was the two of you in a motel bed ‘making out’ as you sang the chorus, his ‘2 hands’ all over you. On top of that, his hands were covered in lipstick kisses as well as the majority of his neck and chest, which you happily did. You’d both gone through a costume change, now you were wearing a black lacy bra and he was wearing no shirt, the both of you looking stunning (and slightly funny considering the fact that you were both just wearing sweats under the covers). 

“T-5 to action,” Kyle shouted, counting you two in. 

He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck as you lip-synced the song to the camera over his shoulder, a sultry look in your eyes as you embodied the lyrics, grinding down on him slightly. After shooting it from a few different angles, you and the team called it a day, ready to come back tomorrow and finish it up. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lando all but threw you on the bed when you got home that night, insatiable after a day of being teased. 

You giggled as he pulled your pants off, pressing kisses up your legs as he unclothed himself, muttering the whole way up to your lips. “So fuckin’ perfect baby,” he grunted. “Teasin’ me all day,” he bit into your shoulder and you moaned, making him smirk. “Such a bad girl.”

“You love it,” you smirked, wrapping your hands around his forearms and flipping the position so that you were straddling him, holding his arms to the bed. “You fucking loved it today.”

“Damn right I did,” he smirked. You let go of his hands to pull off your final item of clothing (your shirt) and his hands immediately went to caressing your thighs. His eyes grew wide as he watched you pull your shirt off, and you knew it would be a long night, but you weren’t complaining. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When you got to set the next day, you had an apologetic look on your face as Megan frowned, seeing the next hickeys on your neck.

“Is he a fucking vampire or something?” she scoffed, getting to work on covering them up. 

“Y’know what, don’t cover them,” Kyle interjected. “It makes sense with the video for her to have them.”

“Thanks Kyle,” Lando smiled, feeling like he was on his side. You laughed when Kyle rolled his eyes at him. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The next scene was just shots of the car driving through the LA streets, which Lando perfectly executed. He seemed to really be enjoying himself and the shots of the car were perfect, so you moved on to the next scene, which was you two at a gas station, dancing to the song as you lip-synced. It wasn’t difficult choreography by any means (Or else Lando wouldn’t have been able to do it), but it was a bit raunchy. Mostly just you dancing on his as he smirked or you pulling him closer and almost kissing him, but then just turning back to the camera and singing the next lyric. You were wearing the car dealership shirt with tiny shorts, and he was wearing a new collection quadrant hoodie and a pair of black jeans. 

You watched as he looked you up and down while everyone else was resetting the shot to film again because Lando ended up laughing. 

“Like what you see?” you smirked. 

“More than you know,” he smiled, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was hot and heavy with a promise of something more beneath, it made you excited for the rest of the day. 

After refilming that a couple of times, you moved onto one of the last shots of the video, you just lip-syncing the words as you sat on top of the car, Lando in various different positions. One of him pumping the gas, one of him opening the door for you, one of him in the driver's seat, one of him beside you on the hood of the car, another of the two of you making out against the door. Moving on from that, Lando went off to film some more of the car scene while you stayed back and filmed the dance break of the song. Those were the last things that needed filming, so you all wrapped up and thanked the crew, going back home after a gruelling day to get fucked by your hot boyfriend. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The video came out and fans went wild. They edited it, they started fanpages, they stalked your socials, and everything in between. You both decided to make a post.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

yourusername and landonorris

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, yourusername and 8,029,238 others

yourusername: 2 hands out now.

comments

landonorris: y r u so hot??? -> yourusername: idk come cool me down -> landonorris: RUNNING

mclaren: stream 2 hands for win in LV🧡🧡🧡

user83: BI PANIC WTF

user29: THE BED SCENE HELLO????

carlossainz: lando is no longer a little boy? -> yourusername: bro was never 'little' -> user21: WTF WTF WTF WTF

user6: MY OTP

user33: My ship is alive!!!!!!!

user74: ewww a vroom vroom guy??

user46: no way lando no- rizz bagged THE Y/N Y/L/N -> yourusername: it's a sad truth... -> oscarpiastri: @.landonorris you're going to take that? -> landonorris: yes. look at her. -> landonorris: actually don't. don't look at her. she's mine

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[surfacage]

??????????

[toxicroyjamie]

Jamie's Twitter would be absolutely crazy btw. I can tell by the way he speaks that Keeley has suffered more than Jesus

[indelicateink]

it's missing-jam-having-proper-photo-shoots-together hours

[ramp-it-up]

Best of All

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count: 3.3 K

Summary: You and Steve FINALLY make it to your suite. And the results are sweet.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Former Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, 20 yr angst, sexual frustration, A yacht, swimming,Steve sketching reader, dry humping, fingering, size kink, personal lubricant, woman on top/ in control, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, sloppy oral (m/f receiving), raw p in v, breeding/lactation kink, creampie. Basically porn with plot. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

This is the next part in the Greatest series.

A/N: It has been just a little over exactly a year since I've written these two. Please forgive my ain't-shitness. And thank you for rocking with me. I love you all!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

You were relaxing on the bow of the yacht, staring out over an amazing view.

You’d had a delicious brunch with Aperol spritzes, and as the yacht floated on the beautiful Gulf of Genoa, the only sounds you heard were of the water, John Coltraine, and the scratching of Steve’s pencil against the paper of his sketch pad. 

He had been wonderful, and contemplative, company for you. 

Your time was spent journaling and looking at the water and the cliffs, rotating your lounger with the sun. You even dozed for a few minutes, waking up to find Steve looking at you piercingly as he sketched. 

Your sister was right.

Steve was very much into you.

You could get used to this you thought as you got up and walked over to Steve, who looked up at you and smiled.

“Can I see what you’re sketching?”

Steve blushed, and then moved so that you could sit down beside him.

“Sure.”

He put his pencils down and handed his leather bound sketch book to you. You gasped.

“Steve! These are…”

You flipped the pages, looking to him for approval. He nodded and smiled at you.

There were many images, on the boat, some very detailed from the day, some rough sketches, but they were all clearly you. You turned to one drawing of you naked, and it made you feel some kind of way.

You’d never posed that way for him.

“Drew that one from memory. Last night.”

“You make me look so…”

“Beautiful? Then that just means I’m drawing you accurately.”

“You really see me this way?”

You were gazing at the sketches with wonder.

“I can’t believe that you don’t. Y/N. You are one of the most beautiful, most desirable women I’ve ever seen. People talk about Aria, but she looks just like you.”

You turned and put the sketch book down on the table beside Steve’s lounger.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Steve’s eyes lit up.

“You can have anything you want.” 

“I want you…”

Steve groaned as you climbed up on his lap and grabbed his face. You traced his lips with your fingers before he closed the distance between you and captured yours with his own. You were breathless before he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours.

“That was… nice.”

Steve shifted, sending his crotch grinding into yours and relishing the way you shivered in his arms.

“You want me?”

Steve looked back up at you. Hopeful.

“Yes. And I want to try. A relationship? Dating once we get back to the states? It will be hard. I travel a lot with what I do, go from coast to coast, and all over the world with Aria.”

You were nervously speaking in questions.

“Hmmm. Wonder how I could get from coast to coast, and all over the world? Oh right, I have two airplanes and I’m a pilot.”

Steve smirked at you as you smacked him on the arm.

“I just don’t want you to feel as if you have to chase after me. Or wait for me to get back when I need to go. Long distance can be hard.”

Steve nodded, and then gave you a quick peck on your lips.

“I know. But I would follow you to the ends of the earth. And I’ve already waited for 20 years. What’s a little longer?”

“How can you be so damn perfect?”

You attacked him, kissing him again as he laughed and grabbed you, holding you close.

“Not perfect, maybe just perfect for you?”

“Maybe,” you smiled into his shirt as you traced a vein down his arm. 

“But I want a do over.”

“A do over of what?”

“Of our first date.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. But first, I wonder if you will give me some? Please? Pretty please Steve?”

You reached down and grasped his hardness in your hand; Steve moaned.

Steve’s mouth was open as you begged for him.

“Oh Baby, you have no idea how much I want that.”

You whined as you moved your hips to feel more of him.

“Steve… need you…”

Your sultry whisper in his ear made him weak.

“Me too. I just … I want it to be special… to take our time…”

“I need you inside me, Captain.”

“Fuuuuuck.…I want that too, Doll. So bad… I dreamt of it last night.”

Steve moved so that his mouth was on your neck.

“You taste like coconuts right now. Why is that?”

“Hmmmm. Flavored body oil spray. It’s edible.”

“Well then, I need to taste more…later. “

You writhed against him hoping for some relief.

“So desperate. I love it when you get needy for me, Baby.”

Steve took in your face and your lips opened in desire. He grabbed the back of your neck, wrapping his hand around your face and inserted his thumb into your mouth. You sucked at it greedily which made him groan again.

“Is that what you want?”

You moaned around his digit and nodded, your heart about to beat out of your chest. Steve leaned down to whisper in your ear as he shoved his thumb further past your tongue and held your mouth open.

“I loved the way you took it in your mouth yesterday. Such a good, good throat. Such a good, sweet girl for me.”

His hand was now at the crotch of your bathing suit and your eyes rolled back into your head at his filthy words as he gagged you with his digit. His long fingers on his other hand pulled the suit to the side and slowly inserted two inside you.

“I can barely get in here, Sweetheart. You’re gonna struggle to take me …”

You grunted, both at what he was doing to you and at what he was saying.

“Yes… you’ll have to be patient just a little while longer. Tonight…”

His wet thumb was caressing your nipples over your bathing suit now. You were frustrated.

“You’re all talk.”

“And you’ll do whatever I say. Later.”

Steve’s words and his steely eyed stare were speaking straight to your pussy. You clenched down on his fingers and he moaned.

“So fucking right. Patience, Doll. Just a little while longer. Meanwhile, you and I need to cool down.” 

Steve abandoned you to take off his shirt, laughing at your lust before he reached down to gather you in his arms again while approaching the passerelle.

“Can you get your hair wet?”

“Yes, I planned on swimming, but are you really about to throw me in the water right now?”

“No. “

Steve shook his head as he stopped on the edge.

“Good.” 

You smiled as you took in the view.

“I figure we’d take the plunge together.”

And then he backed up and ran toward the edge, you squealing in his arms, the warm mediterranean water separating you when you hit the surface. Soon you felt his arms slip back around you as you found each other again and kissed in the warm Italian sun. 

You wanted this moment to last forever.

—-

You made it through the 6 hour voyage and back to the hotel to change for dinner. The meal was nice, with great wine and even better conversation. 

After the meal, Steve asked a question as you walked to the elevators.

“Does that invitation to your suite still stand?”

You pressed your back into the elevator wall as Steve pressed the button for your floor before you even answered his question.

This cocky bastard. It was so hot.

“Sure, are we gonna have a pillow fight?” You raised your arms to his board shoulders as he leaned down to your ear.

“Did you say pillow bite?”

You cocked your head at him, smirking.

“So it’s like that?”

“Very much so.”

You kissed him as the doors opened onto your floor. Steve kept his hands on you as you opened your door and immediately had you up against the first available surface once the door closed hands and mouth everywhere he could reach.

After you two almost broke what looked to be a very expensive vase, Steve stepped back from you, lips swollen from your kisses and chest heaving.

“D’you want me as much as I want you?”

You realized now that the look on Steve’s face that you’d once interpreted to be irritation with you or annoyance, was in fact concentration. You pondered the meaning of being the center of his attention as you moved toward him.

“Do you not remember the way I took your cock down my throat the other day?”

You pressed your body against his and Steve swore, growling in your ear. 

“Oh yes. That was truly.” He kissed your neck.

“Truly.”

This time the kiss was on the plane of your chin.

“Truly amazing.”

He kissed your lips softly when you decided you were tired of playing around. You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

—-

Soon, you were both naked in the bedroom, a bottle of Prosecco rescued from the honor bar and opened on the dresser. Your eyes were drawn to Steve Rogers, who was as beautiful as one of the statues in the Galleria Borghese. 

Steve was grasping his cock at the base as his eyes swept over your body. He was remembering the taste of you.

“You are so beautiful.”  

He squeezed himself harder and tried to keep from moving his hand up and down his thick shaft as you stared and licked your lips.

“Come over here, Stevie. Please.”

You lay on the bed on your stomach, showcasing your ass and looking at him invitingly. Stave moved closer, but stopped.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t going to fuck you tonight?”

You began to pout.

“Fix that face.”

That command made you whimper at the power in his voice.

“You are going to fuck me, Doll.”

“What?”

Steve reached for your hand as he switched places with you. Then he lay there and resumed stroking himself. You licked your lips at the sight and retrieved the bottle of Prosecco, suddenly very thirsty.

You contemplated the power he was giving you, and decided you liked this rush of control. 

“I like the idea of that, Steve. I’ll get to express exactly how much I want you.”

You took a swig and leaned down to kiss him, giving him a taste from your lips. He licked your mouth as you thumbed his nipples, causing him to shiver from your cold touch. You couldn’t resist tasting his cherry red lips again and again as you lightly squeezed his throat, then ran your hand down his sternum and his abs to the tip of his wet cock. 

You grazed the length of him down to his balls, then looked into his eyes and kissed his lips as you took control of him.

“Your lips are perfect,” you whispered as you caressed him.

“No. yours,” replied Steve as he sought your mouth again. 

“You like my mouth?”

As you leaned to teasingly kiss the thick cap of his cock, then took him fully down your throat 

“Oh.. Shit…”

Steve massaged your scalp as you bobbed on him

“You are so fucking hot, Doll…”

You looked up with a smile and moved to lick his nipple, then kiss him again as you stroked him. Steve was mesmerized. Your hands, your lips, your tongue, he couldn’t concentrate on any one part of you that was ruining him. 

It was sensation overload, and he needed to focus to not shoot off.

You were drunk on power. You spit on his cock, deep-throated him once, twice more, and then pulled away, causing Steve to groan as you withdrew contact, your sloppy blow job scrambling his brain.  His head was on a swivel as he watched you get up to go to the dresser. 

“May I?”

Steve nodded, eager for what was to come. You had a small spray bottle in your hand, and when the liquid made contact with his body, he jumped from the sensation. You rubbed the oil on his cock and up his body to his nipples, basking in the rapt attention he paid you as you sprayed yourself between your breasts. Steve’s cock got impossibly harder in your hand at the sight. 

“I think I’m gonna like this.

You loved to hear his sexy deep voice break.

“You like me?”

“Yeah. I…”

Steve trailed off as your hands roamed his body.

“I like you too, Stevie,” you kissed him again. ”

Steve actually whimpered as you swung your leg over his hips and sat down on his cock, rubbing your pussy along his shaft as it lay against his stomach. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to keep from manhandling you.

“I wanna try that sweet cunt.”

“Hmmm. Is it sweet? Wanna taste it again?”

You leaned back and circled your clit with two fingers, then inserted them into his pretty mouth. Steve’s adam's apple bobbed as he sucked your fingers and swallowed your taste. You pulled away to suck his cock again until he was moaning, at which point you kissed and licked your way up his body, settling your thighs at his shoulders. 

He gripped your ass as he turned hushed head so that his lips could kiss your thigh. His fingers reached around your leg to play in your crease as he gave your clit kitten licks and kisses. You tried to move back down, but he grasped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises that would give you daydreams the next day. He started sucking your clit so intently that you began seeing stars.

“Wanna fuck you now, Stevie. Wanna cum on your cock”

You were on the edge as Steve pulled off of your clit with an obscene slurp.

“I’m yours, Y/N.”

You reached back and grabbed his throbbing cock as you scooted your pelvis down, one hand on his neck and one hand positioning him to enter you. His shaft was large, but the head was even wider, and the stretch as you worked yourself open on him made you moan loudly. Steve grabbed your chin to make you look at him while you slid down his length, stretching yourself out so incredibly well.

“My cock looks so big against your tiny pussy.”

His eyes were riveted.

“It is big, Captain. You’re so huge.”

You grabbed the headboard while you adjusted to his size. Steve’s hands came up around your waist and held you steady as you trembled around him.

Those blue eyes looked up at you with adoration.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Are you okay, Doll?”

“It feels amazing,” you stared down into his eyes and smiled, your slick leaking down his thick shaft to collect and drip off his balls.

“Yes. Yes it does. Holy mother god.”

 He looked down to where you were connected.

“You’re wrapped around me so tight and so good, Doll.”

Steve looked up at you and licked his lips, pupils blown wide and struck dumb by lust. 

You leaned down and kissed him when you bottomed out on him.

You stared at each other as you both finally got what you wanted. You took his head in your hands and kissed him as you pounded together. 

Then you started moving. 

Steve played with your nipples and you arched backwards as he planted his feet and pistoned up into you faster.

“Oh! Steve. Feel so full. So good.”

Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place as his hips moved at the devil's pace. The sound of his dick breaching your wet pussy and skin slapping on skin was everything. His thumb went to your clit and traced figure eights as you shuddered in his grip. 

“F-f-f- u-u-u-ck! I’m- I’m coming!”

“Give it to me!”

He stroked you through your orgasm and then sat up, manipulating you so that you were sitting back on your arms in his lap as he moved you up and down his cock like a sex toy.

“Shit, you feel so good!”

Steve looked down at you and then up at the ceiling, eyes rolling

“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.”

You looked down and the image of Steve’s large member destroying your hole was enough to make you cum around his cock again. Steve took control, taking your hips in his large hands and moving you at his will.

“Oh my god.” 

He ground you against the base of his cock and started grinding circles for his greedy eyes and your pleasure. You were addicted.

“Such a good little slut for my cock. Need you to give me one more. That’s it. Good girl.”

He grabbed you by the hair and kissed you as you shuddered through your orgasm and suddenly, you were on your back as Steve flipped you over, getting on his knees and folding you in half to fuck you even better. 

Steve stopped as he tried to hold back.

“You got me so close Doll… I gotta calm down.”

“I just want you to stuff me full of your cum, Captain.”

“Ooohhhhhh. Fuck.”

Steve sped up and then stopped, trying to calm down. But he couldn’t help what he said next that turned out to be his doom.

“Are- are you trying to have my baby, Y/N.”

You arched against him, shuddering at the thought.

“Nnnnnnoooooo. Fuck. Maybe.”

“You wanna be all round and full of my child, tits so full of milk…so I can suck… holy fuck!”

The image was making Steve start to shoot off.

“Fill me up, Steve–I”

“Ahhh!”

And then you keened as you felt his hot cum start to spurt against your walls. You came around his rapidly pulsing cock as he finished inside you.

You two were a hot, sweaty heap as you came down together, Steve kissing your forehead and praising you.

“You did so good for me.”

He gathered you in his arms.

“I love you.”

Steve gazed at you.

“Think I’ve been in love with you for 20 years, Y/N.”

You smiled at him.

“I love you too.” 

You said it, barely above a whisper. But you meant it. Then you said it again.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

You attacked him, kissing him again as he laughed and grabbed you, holding you close. 

“All of the bad things that we’ve gone through to get to this moment is for the best. I can see that now.”

Steve looked to you just like that little boy you met 20 years ago. Then you saw the beautiful man who loved you.

“You’re right. And this, right now. It’s the best of all.”

[unofficial-drawfee-publicist]

Drawtectives: Midnight Alley has something to do with rats… the episode Artists Fuse Two WEIRD Stock Photos into ONE Drawing features a love story between two rats…… on Patreon Bonus Stream 09/20/24 they read Ace Attorney fanfiction about the two rats….

[theabigailthorn]

Publicists Have Amazing Websites

I'm looking into maybe working with a publicist to manage some upcoming acting announcement and their websites are such a serve. You might think that publicists would be public and easy to track down, but no - a good publicist is like a safecracker: you'd never know they were there. So a lot of their websites are just like, their basic email on one webpage and that's it. No client list, no employee list, no mission statement or values, and usually a very generic name that makes it hard to google them. No jokes, I found one company who's whole website is just their logo. In order to email them I had to look up their directors from an old trade publication, search for them, find one of them had a locked Instagram account, and get lucky that she displayed her email on it. I had to go on a quest to find these people, I had to answer riddles three, I had to cross a rickety bridge and swim through a trench - they do not want to be seen.

[rhaenyratargcryen]

if you didn’t love me at my

you don’t deserve me at my

[yourdailyqueer]

Dale Olson (deceased)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

DOB: 20 February 1934

RIP: 9 August 2012

Ethnicity: White - American

Occupation: Writer, publicist, activist, journalist

Note 1: In 1954, he became the first man to appear on television in the United States and self-identify as homosexual.

Note 2: He became the spokesperson for Rock Hudson in 1985 during the actor's battle with AIDS. Olson persuaded Hudson to publicly acknowledge that he had the disease, becoming one of the first celebrities to do so.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Middlemen without enshittification

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Enshittification describes how platforms go bad, which is also how the internet goes bad, because the internet is made of platforms, which is weird, because platforms are intermediaries and we were promised that the internet would disintermediate the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

The internet did disintermediate a hell of a lot of intermediaries – that is, "middlemen" – but then it created a bunch more of these middlemen, who coalesced into a handful of gatekeepers, or as the EU calls them "VLOPs" (Very Large Online Platforms, the most EU acronym ever).

Which raises two questions: first, why did so many of us end up flocking to these intermediaries' sites, and how did those sites end up with so much power?

To answer the first question, I want you to consider one of my favorite authors: Crad Kilodney (RIP):

https://archive.org/details/thecradkilodneypapers

When I was growing up, Crad was a fixture on the streets of Toronto. All through the day and late into the evening, winter or summer, Crad would stand on the street with a sign around his neck ("Very famous Canadian author, buy my books, $2" or sometimes just "Margaret Atwood, buy my books, $2"). He wrote these deeply weird, often very funny short stories, which he edited, typeset, printed, bound and sold himself, one at a time, to people who approached him on the street.

I had a lot of conversations with Crad – as an aspiring writer, I was endlessly fascinated by him and his books. He was funny, acerbic – and sneaky. Crad wore a wire: he kept a hidden tape recorder rolling in his coat and he secretly recorded conversations with people like me, and then released a series of home-duplicated tapes of the weirdest and funniest ones:

https://archive.org/details/on-the-street-crad-kilodney-vol-1

I love Crad. He deserves more recognition. There's an on-again/off-again documentary about his life and work that I hope gets made some day:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#putrid-scum

But – and this is the crucial part – there are writers out there I want to hear from who couldn't do what Crad did. Maybe they can write books, but not edit them. Or edit them, but not typeset them. Or typeset, but not print. Or print, but not spend the rest of their lives standing on a street-corner with a "PUTRID SCUM" sign around their neck.

Which is fine. That's why we have intermediaries. I like booksellers (I was one!). I like publishers. I like distributors. I like their salesforce, who go forth and convince the booksellers of the world to stock books like mine. I have ten million things I want to do before I die, and I'm already 52, and being a sales-rep for a publisher isn't on my bucket list. I am so thankful that someone else wants to do this for me.

That's why we have intermediaries, and why disintermediation always leads to some degree of re-intermediation. There's a lot of explicit and implicit knowledge and specialized skill required to connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, and other sides of two-sided markets. Some producers can do some of this stuff for themselves, and a very few – like Crad – can do it all, but most of us need some help, somewhere along the way. In the excellent 2022 book Direct, Kathryn Judge lays out a clear case for all the good that middlemen can do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

So why were we all so anxious for disintermediation back in the late 1990s? Here's a hint: it wasn't because we hated intermediaries – it was because we hated powerful intermediaries.

The point of an intermediary is to serve as a conduit between producers and consumers, buyers and sellers, audiences and creators. When an intermediary gains power over the audience – say, by locking them inside a walled garden – and then uses that lock-in to screw producers and appropriate an ever larger share of the value going between them, that's when intermediaries become a problem.

The problem isn't that someone will handle ticketing for your gig. The problem is that Ticketmaster has locked down all the ticketing, and the venues, and the promotions, and it uses that power to gouge fans and rip off artists:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

The problem isn't that there's a well-made website that lets you shop for goods sold by many small merchants and producers. It's that Amazon has cornered this market, takes $0.51 out of every dollar you spend there, and clones and destroys any small merchant who succeeds on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can stream most of the music ever recorded. It's that Spotify colludes with the Big Three labels to rip off artists and sneaks crap you don't want to hear into your stream in order to collect payola:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can buy any audiobook you want. It's that Amazon's Audible locks every book to its platform forever and steals hundreds of millions of dollars from creators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

The problem, in other words, isn't intermediation – it's power. The thing that distinguishes a useful intermediary from an enshittified bully is power. Intermediaries gain power when our governments stop enforcing competition law. This lets intermediaries buy each other up and corner markets. Once they've formed cozy cartels, they can capture their regulators and commit rampant labor, privacy and consumer violations with impunity. That capture also lets them harness governments to punish smaller players that want to free workers, creators, audiences and customers from walled gardens. It also hands them a whip-hand over their workers, so that any worker who refuses to aid in these nefarious plans can be easily fired:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

A world with intermediaries is a better world. As much as I love Crad Kilodney's books, I wouldn't want to live in a world where the only books on my shelves came from people prepared to stand on a street-corner wearing a "FOUL PUS FROM DEAD DOGS" sign.

The problem isn't intermediaries – it's powerful intermediaries. That's why the world's surging antitrust movement is so exciting: by reinstating competition law, we can keep intermediaries small and comparatively weak, so that creators and audiences, drivers and riders, sellers and buyers, and other groups seeking to connect will not find themselves made subservient to middlemen.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

[no-144444]

3 minutes- l.norris

summary: lando overshoots an overtake, and you go off the track. what then ensues is the most stressful and awful 3 hours of his life.

pairing: lando norris x fem! rbdriver! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He overshot it, and you were off the track. 

“Fuck!” he screamed, looking in his mirrors. “Is she ok?” 

“Red flag, red flag! No info yet Lando, keep going-”

“Is she getting out of the fucking car?!” he screamed. Everything was too much, too fast, too difficult. Every single person in the stands was silent, or maybe his brain was just filtering it out. He couldn’t hear anything, just his own voice, his own breath, and the beat of his own heart in his ears. He needed information, he needed to know that you were walking out of the car. He needed to know you weren’t dead. He needed to know if he still had a fiancé. It was bad. He knew it was bad. It was the third lap of the fucking Sprint. 

“No info-”

“Don’t give me that shit! Is she getting out of the car?!” 

“She is exiting the car, yes.”

And fuck, Lando could breathe again. 

“Assisted,” Will added and his heart dropped. “They’re stopping the session, bring it back to the pits.” 

Lando screamed. As he slowly drove towards the pits, he could feel the eyes on him. The drivers, the media, the fans. All of them wondered the same thing as him. Had he really fucked everything in his life up? 

He parked in his own garage and ran out to the RedBull garage, needing more information than anyone was willing to give him. 

“What is going on?” he demanded of your race engineer, Ryan. 

Ryan sighed. “Have you seen the footage yet?” 

“Don’t show it to him!” Christian demanded, crossing the garage to get to him. “You shouldn’t be here, get out of my garage.”

“She’s my fucking fiancé, if I want information, I’m getting it Christian.”

“You’re the one who fucking killed her!” he screamed. 

The garage went quiet. Lando’s heart rate sped up, his eyes glossed over. He couldn’t have lost you. He didn’t lose you. He refused. He became so much more aware of everything around him, the dead silence in the garage, the way everyone else’s eyes were wide, or subdued. The way Max stilled. The way Christian just stared at him. The way everyone stopped breathing. He could feel every inch of his race suit on his skin, he could feel every curl on top of his head, every bead of sweat that fell from his skin. He took a deep breath. 

“She’s gone?” he asked in a broken whisper, looking at Ryan. Ryan looked down. 

“They got her back!” Henry, your lead mechanic screamed, informing the entire garage that you in fact, were alive. “She’s breathing, she’s awake!” 

There was a collective sigh of relief. With the aid of Max, Christian backed off enough to allow Lando to see the footage and hear the whole story. 

He watched in horror as the front left of his McLaren hit the back right of your RB and sent you flying. Somehow, you’d become airborne and flipped 8 times. 8 times. He counted it. The car hit into the barriers, and it split. 

You didn’t move. The cameras turned away. The marshals ran. George ran on, his car had been hit with debris, the same for Franco, Liam, and Alex. They ran over, trying desperately to help you out. George and Liam carried you over to the ambulance. You were limp. Unresponsive.

“She died for 3 minutes,” Ryan explained, a sombre tone in his voice. “She’s on her way to the hospital now.” 

He looked down, the tears flowing freely. You had died. For 3 whole minutes, you were gone. 

“We think it was the impact of the spinning, and then hitting into the barriers. And… her Hans device was faulty. It wasn’t put on properly, and it came off during the first spin.”

“What about the halo?” he asked. 

“It was crushed in the flips. She took the full impact of the last two with no Hans deivce. It was a miracle she didn't break her neck.” 

He felt like he’d been slapped. 

“We’ll get a car ready for you now. She’ll want to see you,” he explained, wrapping an arm around Lando and bringing him out into the paddock. Ryan, Max, and Henry shielded him from the prying eyes of the media, and got him into a car to the hospital. 

What then ensued was the longest car ride of his life. Sao Paulo traffic was awful on a good day, but fuck. This was excruciating. What was worse was the inner turmoil he was dealing with. Would you ever want to see him? Would you leave him after this? Was this the end? Would you ever get back into an F1 car?

When he finally made it to the hospital, he was rushed to the ICU, walking behind a nurse. 

“She’s in a stable condition, and she’s awake. She’s been asking for you,” she explained and a weight was lifted off his shoulders. You wanted to see him. You asked to see him. 

He turned the corner into your room and he met your eyes. Bloodshot, with a burst blood vessel in one of them. You were bruised and broken, too many casts to count. 

“Lando,” you smiled.

You smiled. 

He rushed over to your side, sitting in the seat at the side of your bed. “I’m here.” 

Your eyes were welling up in tears. “I wanted to see you before I left the track but they said I had to go,” you explained. “This isn’t your fault Lan. It was a racing accident. It was a mistake.” 

He stared at you for a moment. How was it that you could sit there, in pain, traumatised, and comfort him? If he was a better man, he probably would’ve told you it was his fault, and not start crying at your kind words. 

He started tearing up, bowing his head as to stop you seeing. “I don't deserve you.” 

“You do,” you whispered, cupping his cheek. “You do, Lan. You’re here. I know you, and I know you’ve been beating yourself up for the last 3 hours. You didn’t kill me. I’m still alive.” 

“I killed you for 3 minutes,” he croaked out. 

“Racing killed me for 3 minutes. My defence killed me for 3 minutes. My ego killed me for 3 minutes. It wasn’t you, Lando. I turned into you, I’ve watched the footage,” you assured him. “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, wrapping his arms around you carefully. 

“I’m ok,” you whispered. “You're ok. It’s ok.” 

You both knew it would take some time to get over this, but you knew you’d do it together. That was the important part.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[themandadlorianbod]

Pedro Pascal spotted driving around yesterday 💜💜

[thecountesstribe]

You guys know what I just thought about. I'm so not ready to mourn Lucerys tomorrow. We talk about everybody else's grief but you know whose grief we rarely acknowledge... Rhaena's. There are multiple discussions about Targaryen soulmatism and rarely do people ever bring up Luke and Rhaena. While little Jace was ultimately Baela's from the beginning, Luke was also Rhaena's from the start too. I'm talking about the show timeline. Let me break it down and let me break your hearts while I'm at it. After the squabble with their uncle and cousin respectively Rhaena was defending Luke like her life depended on it “He broke Luke's nose” repeatedly shouting it so people will get that Aemond “broke Luke's nose”. Jace was riding for Baela and Rhaena was riding for Luke. Beth said in the team black panel that the four of them were a little family unit in their family unit, serving baby besties and probably first loves realness. Rhaena remained on Dragonstone after Rhaenys took Baela as her ward and while Jace was her big bro she probably connected to Luke the most, both with their respective imposter syndrome and just being the babies of the quartet. Let's skip to the betrothed scene and Rhaena smiling and gushing behind knowing she gets to marry Luke, him being happy but also nervous cause his legitimacy as heir to Driftmark was being called into question, she was also picked up on his emotions across the room when Vaemond was being a parasite. At the dinner scene before it went to shit, when he moved his chair so he could be closer to her and the two of them being little smiley shits together, she also picked up on his anger when Almond started needling them about their parentage. Then we get to the war council meeting which was their last on screen interaction, the four of them smiling at each other and then Jace volunteering themselves as envoys. She immediately picked up on his anxiousness and her being anxious herself cause she knew but she also didn't know something was definitely about to be amiss. They were so in sync and that was so beautiful. Rhaena and Baela didn't get the spotlight they deserved in season 1 but Phoebe really did phenomenal with what little they were given. I'm not ready for tomorrow. The angst!! The grief!! The pain! The absolute heartbreak!!! HBO is probably gonna muck it up and I'm gonna hate them for it but we can't talk about Targaryen soulmatism and not mention them frfr. Literally had the potential to be one of the best love stories to come out of Westeros. Could you imagine the songs and the ballads and the tales they could've sung and told about the Targaryen Velaryon besties fr? We were ROBBED I TELL YOU.

Didn't expect this post to be so long, apologies mates. Is this a safe space to admit that I'm not okay? 💔😭.

[katescorner]

but imagine popstar!hinata who debuts in a boy band, and his group finds success immediately. his rise to fame is fast but definitely well-deserved. he quickly becomes a fan favorite (some people were just meant for the stage!).

it's mid-day and popstar!hinata is craving protein, so he sneaks out wearing a beanie to cover his orange hair and a black mask for his nose and mouth. realistically, a fan could spot him a mile away, but he just needed a corndog or sausage or maybe a meat bun—something quick before people get on his trail.

popstar!hinata who always underestimates his popularity and only makes it down a couple blocks before he's mobbed. but he's fast, and he's able to break free from the crowd of fans and reporters and who knows who else. he's abandoned the mask now, and his beanie is shoved into his pocket haphazardly as he sprints down the avenue.

you're working a part-time job at some dinky little place. your shift has been unbearably slow, and you're convinced you won't survive it. you glance at the clock. your lunch break starts soon, and you hope no one comes in the next five minutes.

popstar!hinata bursts through the door just as you're about to punch out for lunch and immediately dives under a table to hide. eyes blown wide with surprise, you're about to ask him if he needs help when he shakes his head and quietly points at the door. you watch as a mob runs past the store. some are holding cameras, others banners, but everyone's shouting one name—shoyo.

popstar!hinata who feels extremely bad as you say fuck all and close up shop early (your manager only agreeing because he gets an autograph out of it) and promises to buy you lunch as a thank you for this. and it definitely doesn't hurt that he finds you super cute.

"if you take me out for lunch, am i going to make the front page next morning?"

"you mean when."

"no, i mean if."

"you don't believe i'll come back to treat you for lunch?"

popstar!hinata who's amused by you and decides to save his number to your phone (even though his publicist might kill him if anything happens) to show you he's not lying. he makes sure to take a selfie right then and there for his contact photo, and he names himself 'shoyo🍊🧡' (he debated putting the heart for two minutes; you pretended not to notice). similarly, he saves your contact with similar emojis (again you pretend not to notice the heart emoji).

"pick up when i call. i'm going to be looking forward to lunch."

"we'll see."

spoiler alert: his publicist lost her mind when she saw the two of you make headlines the morning after your lunch (date).

[ramp-it-up]

Greatest

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Summary: Steve tells you the truth.

This is the next part in the Greatest series.

A/N: This is not as kinky as I promised. I had to cut this in two because I'm in the mood for love, so this has plot with the porn. Hope you like it anyway! #KinktoberMaybe

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, fast start to slow burn, idiots in love, angst, secrets, sexual frustration, good girl kink, public sex acts, manual sex, teasing, edging, Captain kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

——

Steve glared at Bucky, silently daring him to say it. He had the urge to punch something and Bucky’s mug was very convenient at the moment. 

The only thing holding him back was the fact that Bucky was 100% correct.

“Let me get this straight. You had her. Or she had you rather, in the palm of her hand. And you left her there to take a shower and let her walk out the door?”

Steve thought back to what he was thinking when he made that decision. He realized that he wasn’t thinking, but panicking. He didn’t want the rush of hormones and emotions that flooded him after your beautiful mouth made him lose control. So he retreated to the shower, hoping and praying that you would follow him, and absolve him of having to make the decision.

All he needed was that one overture from you to make rushing forward with you before having a proper conversation.

But your pride was stronger than the physical need you had, and when you walked in the bathroom, you just fixed your face and reapplied your lipgloss, smoothing your dress down your body and looking at your ass in the full length mirror before you gave the shower a side eye when you walked out the door.

“None of it was supposed to happen… it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. I wanted to talk to her first. Before we… But she is so… I just wanted to do it right…”

Bucky shook his head. 

“You missed your chance at that, Punk. You could have told her on your date…or when we landed…or in the room, before you did disrespectful things to her.”

“Shut your trap, Jerk.”

Steve looked around the bar as people walked by. He sometimes regretted that he told Bucky everything. 

“... or at breakfast, before she sucked out what little brain cells you have…”

Steve downed his drink as he listened to his friend accurately recount his failures.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up into his best friend’s eyes.

“It’s not too late. The problem is that you riled her up and left her hanging. You better find her before one of these insanely handsome Italian men do.”

“Shit.”

Bucky chuckled as he watched Steve hurry out of the hotel and into the streets of the fishing village. He had to find you and tell you the truth.

—-

You loved your little sister, but she was being a monumental pain in the ass.

Hey, Sissy!

Just want to let you know that Topher and I and the rest of the peeps (except Steve of course) are going to Paris! D invited us!

I’ll send you lots of pics to post. The most romantic place on earth, eek! Enjoy the yacht ride and the accommodations. We’ll pick you up at the end of the week.

Go easy on Steve, don’t hurt him! ;)

You saw the message twenty minutes after Aria sent it, and she wasn’t picking up your calls. 

Now you were trapped in Italy with the asshole who liked to play mind games.

Great.

You looked over at the tall dark handsome stranger who was looking at you from the cafe across the street. You smiled as you realized that Steve Rogers wasn’t the only game in town.

—

Steve’s morning was spent searching high and low in Riomaggiore. But it was Bucky’s text that sent him flying back to the room.

Gonna take Aria and crew to Paris for the rest of the week. Don’t ask.

I can handle the two hour flight. You concentrate on Y/N, Aria wants you two to have alone time.

I gotta tell you though, Sharon thought she saw her with an Italian dude, btw…

Steve was shook when he found that you had cleaned out your stuff from the room that you were forced to share. 

He had no idea where you were.

—--

Hours later, you were enjoying coffee at a different cafe, alone. Luca was indeed handsome, and charming. But you weren’t quite feeling him like you wanted to. He showed you some sights, but after spending a wonderful afternoon with him, you decided you needed time to get out of your head.

So you went and got your things and transferred them to Aria’s suite. It was much more spacious than the room you’d shared with Steve. He deserved space from the horrible bitch who’d ruined his trip.

The best thing to do was to give him some space on his unintended vacation. You were a big girl. You could take care of yourself. And you needed some down time from taking care of everyone else. You would go to activities planned for Aria and Topher this week, get social media content, post it later, and make it seem as if her honeymoon was twice as long as it was. 

It was win-win.

So why did it feel as if you’d lost something?

You looked down into your cup of coffee as if you could read your future there and you heard a familiar voice.

“There you are!”

You looked up into the cerulean eyes of Steve Rogers.

You stared as he started talking.

“Listen. I know I fucked up. But let me explain.”

You scowled at him.

“Do all asshole men have the same script or something? That is one of the most basic sentences ever.”

You got out your wallet and put some euros, gathered your shopping bags and stood up.

“Y/N, I know I’m a basic bitch, but please hear me out.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Steve’s attempt at the vernacular. But you kept walking out of the cafe. You knew he was following you, but you kept it moving to the corner as you stopped to hail a taxi.

Steve was anxious, but he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight again. 

“I’ve rented a Vespa. I can give you a ride.”

His deep voice so close was doing things to you, but you just gave him a side eye over your shoulder.

Steve gave you a side smile in response and motioned down the street to the small red machine. You squinted at it.

“Will you, me, and my bags fit on that little bitty thing?”

“We’ll make sure we fit.”

Steve leaned toward you and gabbed your bags from you, fingers brushing against yours, sparking electricity. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you chased your purchases. 

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Steve stopped abruptly and turned around, causing you to stop inches from him.

“You’re right. Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want an explanation.”

You huffed up at him, heart beating a mile a minute at the deep bass of his voice.

“What if I want both? I need… I need to know the reason and I need to think. You’re a fucking enigma!”

Steve smiled down at you.

“I know. And I apologize. You don’t deserve the mind games.”

You exhaled.

“Thank you for that.”

“So. Do you want to go back to… wherever you’re staying tonight and talk tomorrow, or go somewhere and talk tonight and I give you space after… or….”

You realized that Steve was hurt that you moved out of the room as you looked into his eyes.

“I moved into Aria’s suite. To give you some space…”

“I don’t want… I mean. I get it.”

Steve was looking down now.

“Let’s go talk. Still have the yacht booked for tomorrow, that would be a great time for me to think.”

You watched Steve’s adam’s apple bob as he thought of you in a swimsuit.

“Cool. Let’s go.”

Steve led you to the scooter and secured your bags on the back of the Vespa as you got your helmet on. He put his helmet on and looked back at you as you climbed on behind him.

You had to be careful to tuck your dress properly, and you could have sworn that Steve licked his lips as he watched you. You decided to ignore that as you settled in.

You held on to Steve’s slim waist as loosely as you could, but you ended up with your hands dangerously close to where your mouth was this morning. You tried not to think of it as you took in the scenery and zipped through the town. Steve seemed to know his way around.

You turned into a parking area.

“The Via dell'Amore?, really Steve?”

“It’s a beautiful view. I’m not trying to mess with your mind, Y/N.”

You were wary, but you followed his lead to the trail. You were blown away as you stepped on the pathway proper and you felt Steve’s heat close behind you. It was a narrow path.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

“It’s breathtaking!”

You looked back at Steve and he smiled when he saw your face. 

“I’m glad that you like it.”

You two started to walk, and you found out that Steve had been stationed at Pisa and that’s why he knew Cinque Terre so well. 

“I bet you brought a lot of girls up here.”

You didn’t know why you cared. But he was supposed to be explaining himself.

“Fewer than you’d think. There was one local girl, but I haven’t had many relationships.”

“Oh.” 

You bit your lip as you overthought.

“I would have thought that someone who looked like you would have people falling at your feet.”

“Really?” Steve appraised you. “I might say the same for you.”

You laughed.

“I’m not everyone’s type.

“And I’ve never been more grateful to be an individual.”

You shook your head.

“Look Steve, I am really sorry for how I acted on our date. It was so wrong of me to assume about your upbringing. I understand your need to get back at me…”

“Wait. Do you think that last night and this morning was about getting back at you?”

Steve had stopped and was looking into your eyes.

“Well…”

Steve put his hands on your arms and shook his head.

“That wasn’t what that was. Man, I am such an idiot. I need to explain.”

Steve spied a stone bench that overlooked the water and led you over to it.

“This is about my childhood. And yours. About us…”

“What are you talking about, Steve?”

“What do most people ask you about your background?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Most people ask me how I became Aria’s publicist.”

Aria starred in a Disney sitcom as a teen and her recording and acting career took off from there. There were plenty of sharks, but you knew the business. When you finished college, you made sure that she would never be exploited again.

“I figured, but what about you? You’re pretty talented yourself, right? You acted a bit when you were younger, didn’t you?”

You did a double take. Not many people knew that about you.

“You’ve been researching me, Captain Rogers?”

Steve’s stomach flipped when you called him that, but he answered you.

“Not exactly. Maybe. Sort of. I know things.”

Steve plowed ahead. You decided to play along.

“So… yeah. I was in Betcha By Golly Wow when I was 10-12 years old. I played young Vanessa.”

You thought back to the days when you were considered one of the most promising young actors on broadway. You even had a Tony nomination somewhere in storage. What a time that was in your life. Aria was a toddler and your parents were still alive. It was before you had to grow up so fast. You adored Aria, but back then you were able to do something you loved in the most glorious way. 

Your arms raised goosebumps as you looked into Steve’s eyes. Something was prickling your intuition.

Steve nodded at your response as though he knew what you were going to say.

“What was your favorite part about performing on Broadway?”

“Well….”  

You looked at him again, getting this strange feeling of deja vu. There was something about this exchange that was giving you the feels.

“My favorite part of being on a Broadway show was making people happy. I loved hearing the audience sing along and laugh at my lines. I used to love the finale because everyone in the audience always got on their feet and danced along.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You were breathless now. It couldn’t be. You had to be crazy.

“And after the show, I used to meet as many people as possible. And talk to them. I was thrilled when they wanted my autograph and said that they wanted to come back to see the show again. It was such a privilege to make someone’s day.”

“D’you remember any of the people that you talked to?”

“There were some that stood out.”  

You were looking at Steve in a new light now. 

“...Like the time Audra McDonald came by. And Sheryl Lee Ralph. My heroes.”

“Are those the only ones you remember?”

“I loved when we did special matinees for schools. There was one time, when we were paid by the Stark Foundation to give personalized tours for boys from a group home who were interested in acting…”

“I bet that was a real treat for them.”

You squinted at Steve, trying to erase 20 years from his face.

“Yeah. I bet. But, as you probably know very well, 12 year old boys can be assholes. I was assigned this asswipe of a kid named Brock, and he demanded that I kiss him behind the kitchen set, he also tried to feel me up, and I slapped him.”

You shook your head at the memory. Then your brow furrowed and you looked back up at Steve.

“He started to manhandle me and I got scared, because he was so much bigger than me. He grabbed my arm and all of a sudden, this scrawny little kid named Grant…”

You cocked your head sideways at Steve, almost certain now. You continued.

“…This smallish kid named Grant jumped on his back from nowhere, and managed to distract him. Of course, Brock started to get him good, but I picked up a baseball bat from the stage props and together we got him to leave us alone. I ended up…”

Your voice trailed off as the emotion of that day came back. You couldn’t believe you had blocked this all out.

“Smallish?” Steve snorted. “He was a runt.” 

He smiled at you and your heart did a thing. 

“I’m guessing.”

You smiled and nodded. 

“Right.”

“And I bet that you took that Grant kid to your dressing room and cleaned him up. Because Brock tagged him in the nose pretty good.”

You looked at Steve’s beautifully crooked nose.

“You probably taught him the dance in the second act. Even the slow dance that the grown-ups did….”

Steve trailed off, lost in the moment so long ago.

That moment when you first stared into the same blue eyes that you were looking into now came back and took your breath away.

“Great guesses. And I bet you can also surmise that I was taller than him.”

You smiled softly as you remembered the way his hand trembled at your waist, but the boldness in the way he stared at you. You bit your lip as you remembered the innocent kiss on the cheek that you gave him as he left.

Steve was blushing now, looking down at his hands as he smiled at the memory.

“Yeah. He probably hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. But I bet that didn’t matter to him. You were probably… No definitely the most beautiful girl that kid had ever seen. And that kid never forgot that day. Or you. He probably never got over it.”

You two stared at each other for a long time it seemed. You broke the silence first.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

Your eyes appreciated his body in a new light. 

“A growth spurt indeed.”

Steve flushed again.

“I wanted to tell you at dinner, but then…”

“I assumed shit and was rude as hell.”

“Yes…”

You scoffed as Steve laughed.

“…And I didn’t know how to tell you what I’ve wanted to since the day I found out you were Aria’s sister. The first time you stepped on the plane, you didn’t recognize me the way I recognized you. And I admit, I felt some kind of way.”

You cocked your head at him.

“You were salty? Why? You've been stalking me for 20 years and I ruined your chance to make you fall in love with me?”

You were joking but Steve didn’t laugh. 

“I’m not a stalker. But I really never forgot you. I did move on. Bucky and I enlisted together and I had other relationships. But there was this ideal girl in my head that no one could ever live up to. I gave up on finding the one, because I thought the one was somewhere out there that I would never reach. And then you walked on my plane and…”

“Wait. Your plane?”

“Well.. yeah. Bucky and I own two jets, and we lease them.”

“Oh. Topher presented it as if he owned it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway. Here you were. And you virtually ignored me. And then I managed to get a date with you and you were…”

“An asshole. I know.”

“Just.. not the same girl I had in my head.”

“Oh. So you’re disappointed?”

Your heart sank for some reason.

“No. You have grown up. You know who you are and speak up about it. But you challenge me, you care so much about everyone else, and you’re so fucking intelligent. And that body…”

You thrilled at that statement.

“You’re so much better than the fantasy I’d built in my head. I was intimidated.”

“You didn’t seem intimidated last night. Or this morning.”

You moved closer to him, craving…something.

“I wasn’t planning on having to sleep in the same bed as you. I couldn’t help myself.”

Steve’s hand touched your arm and moved up your neck.

“It’s like I’m drawn to you on a string… I…and this body… you’re not a little girl anymore.”

Steve looked down your cleavage and then drew away. You felt disappointed.

“I wanted to talk to you before… if… anything happened.”

Steve looked out over the water.

“And I just know that if I… if we… took it there. It would be the point of no return.” 

He looked back over to you.

“You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”

Your eyes were on Steve’s lips.

“So it’s like that?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“You mean to tell me that I would be dickmatized? I couldn’t quit you if I tried.”

Steve smiled cockily at you.

“Pretty sure that would be the case…”

“Try me.”

And suddenly you were on Steve’s lap, your hands in his hair as you kissed his lips and demanded entry with your tongue. You ground your crotch on him, bringing his cock to life through his pants. His hands went to your waist, thumbs caressing your sides as he took possession of your mouth. He groaned and one hand moved up to your nape, grabbing the hair there to separate you from him.

“We can’t…you’re trying to get me to fuck you on the side of a public cliff.’

You whined as Steve attacked your neck, nipping and biting you, surely leaving marks. Your clit was quivering from the pleasure and your whines got louder.

“Need you Steve…”

The last 24 hours felt like a giant tease. 

“You need time to think, remember? We’re caught up in emotion now… time to.. Fuck… think.”

“Yes. You’re right. Thinking is for winners. Not fucking like mindless animals. Wouldn’t want you to fuckme from behind like an animal with that big dick…”

“I’m so hard right now, I’d need to struggle to fit it in that tight little hole…”

You whimpered.

“It would be so easy right now. ‘M so wet…”

Steve groaned.

“Ok.. that’s it.”

He lifted you off of his lap and all you could do was look down on his hardon, disappointed. He lifted your chin to look in your eyes.

“You really will have us arrested.”

He nodded toward a security camera.

“Let’s go back to our separate rooms. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yes, join me on the yacht tour we can have a great discussion in our bathing suits. Swim in the ocean. Get all wet…”

Steve shook his head at you and grabbed your hand.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

He led you back down the path to the Vespa and kissed you after you put your helmet on.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, y/n. I will give you anything you ask for. And you asked for space.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, even if I ask you to?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve laughed at your antics.

You kept your hands in neutral places on the ride back to the hotel, resting your chin against Steve’s leather-clad back. Steve caressed your hand with his as he drove. He walked you back to your new suite, and when you reached the door you leaned back against the wall.

“Do you want to come… in?”

Steve smiled at you. 

“More than anything… but I won’t..”

You pouted up at him, chipping away at his resolve. You cursed yourself for saying you needed time alone.

“Can I have a kiss, Captain?”

Steve chuckled, moving closer to you.

“Of course…”

You dropped your bags when he leaned down, your tongue laved his lips and when he opened, you sucked his tongue. Steve moaned into your mouth as your hands came up and tugged on his hair. That was a hot wire straight to his cock. His hands began to wander, large fingers playing with your nipples through your bodice. Your sensitive buds were straining against the lace and the cotton as he teased you.

“This dress…the way you look in it. And the way you feel…”

“You’re making me so hot, Steve. Want you. Need you…I’m dripping for you.”

You pressed yourself close to him, standing on tiptoe to return the favor of marking his neck, making him reach down and gather up the hem of your dress.

“Is that so?”

And his fingers dipped into the lace of your sodden panties, moaning as he felt you.

“Fuck this feels so good, Doll. You are so slick…oh my god…”

He started to finger fuck you with two thick fingers as his thumb twirled your plucky button.

You were holding on to his shoulders for dear life at this point.

“S-steve! Fuck!”

“When you go in here. By yourself. Alone.”

It was like he was trying to convince himself. And he was.

“Don’t touch yourself. I’m claiming this pussy as mine. And I don’t want you to touch it. Be a good girl and save your orgasm for me.”

You were about to cum on the palm of Steve’s hand, so you would agree to anything.

“Jesus Steve… yes, yes! Whatever you say.”

He withdrew his hand, holding your glare as you watched him suck his fingers off, angry that your orgasm was denied. You didn’t want to be defiant, but you needed retribution.

“Then you can’t touch that cock. No matter how hard you get tonight.”

Steve gulped.

“Don’t waste any of that delicious cream on the floor or any where that I am not there to lick it off of you. If you are not going to cum inside me tonight, you better not do it anywhere.”

He smiled at your possessiveness.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He leaned down and kissed your nose.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry. You know that?”

You smiled up at him and turned around to the wall within the cage of his arms.

“I’m much cuter when you’re hitting it from the back, or so I’m told.”

Steve felt a mixture of jealousy and lust as you stuck your ass out and ground on his hard cock through your dress and his pants. He pushed his wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand went back to your pussy, teasing you to the edge again, as he molded you to his fingers.

“Such a fucking brat. I should fill all your holes…”

Your body throbbed as you thought of being used by Steve in that way.

You begged for it.

“Please Captain…”

Steve growled as he abandoned your pussy again and fell to his knees, pulling your dress up and your panties down. He pulled your hips backward so that he had access to your sopping wet crease. He needed to shut you up, and this was the best thing he could think of although you were in the middle of a public hotel hallway. Of course, he wasn’t thinking clearly since there was no blood in his brain.

Steve’s lips suckled at your clit like a man dying of thirst and just when your vision started to blur, his rude tongue forged a path up your folds to your tight ring of muscle, where he boldly dipped inside you. You grabbed his hair as he gave you a taste of what he wanted to do to you, but once again, you were denied the ultimate pleasure. He stopped just before you came all over his face.

Your head was spinning as he turned you around and fixed your dress. You looked up at him, surprised that he was upright, and that you were not on your knees next.

“Now be a good girl and get some rest.” 

He put your bags back in your hand and kissed your temple, then retreated across the hall as you opened your door. 

“G’night,” he said as you held the door open, as if offering an invitation.

“Sweet dreams,” you responded, letting the door swing closed as you pulled your dress over your head, giving him a glimpse of the lilac lace beneath your dress.

Steve’s first urge was to break the door down when it latched closed, but instead he just stood there and collected himself as he looked around for the exit and took the stairs down to his room to burn off some steam.

You leaned against the wooden door of your room, hoping in vain to cool down the fire that Steve Rogers had stoked inside of you.

—-

If you like it, reblog pls! ❤️