#you could call her a carpenter

[krikeymate]

Thinking about an AU where 18-year-old Sam on the verge of leaving comes home to her mother screaming at her little sister. Sam's still high, the shouts ringing in her ears but the words formless. She's about to intervene when a slap cuts through it all. Her sister's on the floor and in the blink of an eye Sam has a hand wrapped around her mother's throat, slamming her against the wall.

Tara's climbing to her feet, eyes wide with fear at the scene. Sam doesn't look away from her mother as she says "Tara, go upstairs and pack a bag." Her sister doesn't move, so Sam turns away to look at her and repeats herself. Tara must see something in her wild eyes, because she runs up the stairs.

By the time Sam escorts her downstairs half an hour later, their mother is nowhere to be seen. Tara's led through the packing and into the car in silence. The what's happening?, the where are we going?, the are you ok? sits on the tip of her tongue, choked back by uncertainty and confusion.

Sam drives out of Woodsboro and doesn't look back.

OR

Sam, 19-years-old, long since kicked out of the house and on her way out of Woodsboro. She just has one stop to make, a goodbye she has to give first.

She sneaks into the house. The door is unlocked, she doesn't even need the key Tara hid outside for her, and it enrages her. Her baby sister is upstairs sleeping and anyone can just walk in.

Her mother is passed out on the floor leaning against the couch, snoring away and a bottle still in her lap. She creeps past her and up the stairs.

Sam perches herself on the edge of Tara's bed. Her sister is sprawled out on the mattress, the covers kicked off, and it makes her smile. She brushes Tara's hair back from her face and the smile falls from her face.

Her fingers trail down to the shadow around her neck. Sam reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, catching sight of Tara's wrist at the same time. These are bruises. She wakes her sister up and demands answers from her. She doesn't like the answers she eventually coaxes from her. She likes Tara's attempt to lie to her even less.

She makes her pack, tells her to wait out front, that she'll be out in a minute. She kicks her mother awake, tells her she's leaving for good, and that she's not leaving alone. She tells her that she will never have the chance to hurt them again, and if she tries, well, she'll learn exactly how much like her father she can be,

[mcrdvcks]

Dumb & Poetic

Summary: You like Logan, but he likes Jean. Right?

Word Count: 6k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: honestly, this isn't one of my favorites, but i just needed to write it to get it out of my head.

also, this is after the sabrina carpenter song, but this story has no relation to the lyrics whatsoever, i just thought the title was fitting

reader's powers are manipulating atoms (it'll make sense when you read)

warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet name (princess, sweetheart), miscommunication, light violence, blood, implied age gap

Even after going on ten missions and counting, you always found yourself nervous. Especially when you were getting onto the Blackbird, clad in your matching suits. The hum of the jet’s engines filled the air, but your mind was on Logan. He sat across from you, legs spread out, arms crossed over his chest, that usual scowl on his face. It was the way he always looked before a mission, but you couldn’t help but glance over a little too often.

Ororo slid into the seat next to you, her sharp eyes catching your lingering stare. “You know,” she said softly, leaning over slightly, “if you keep looking at him like that, you might as well say something.”

You blinked, face heating up. “What? I wasn’t—”

“Oh, please, Y/N,” Ororo chuckled under her breath. “I’m not blind.”

You sighed and slouched back into your seat, fiddling with the straps. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s Logan,” Ororo shrugged. “Everything about him is complicated. But that doesn’t mean you should hold back.”

You cast another glance across the cabin at him. Logan was still quiet, staring out the window now, completely unaware of the butterflies flipping around in your stomach. You didn’t want to admit it, but Ororo was right. There was something about Logan that made you pause. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to be in his own world, like he was still holding onto things from his past. Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at Jean sometimes, like there was still something unresolved there.

“I don’t think he’s over her,” you murmured, feeling the familiar weight of doubt settle in.

“Jean?” Ororo raised an eyebrow. “Please, Jean and Scott are practically married. Logan isn’t hung up on her anymore. If anything, he’s just... Logan.”

You nodded, but the doubt still lingered. It was hard to let yourself hope for something that seemed impossible. Besides, Logan saw you as the kid, didn’t he? He always called you ‘princess’ or ‘sweetheart’- terms of endearment, sure, but you figured he used them with everyone.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, Hank’s voice came over the intercom, snapping everyone to attention. “We’re approaching the target. This should be a routine recon and hopefully data extraction but keep your guard up.”

Logan stood, moving to the front of the cabin. “You heard him. We get in, get the intel, and get out. No heroics.”

You stood with Ororo, adjusting your gloves and trying to ignore the fact that your heart rate had picked up. It wasn’t the mission that had you on edge, but Logan’s presence, the way he effortlessly took command of the room. You hated how easily he affected you.

The Blackbird landed with a soft jolt, and the team moved into action. Logan gave you a nod as you passed, and you swore you saw something in his eyes—concern? Or maybe you were just seeing what you wanted to see.

As the team fanned out, you stayed close to Jean and Scott, your senses heightened. You were supposed to keep it simple, in and out. But things rarely went that smoothly.

A flicker of movement caught your eye just as Jean’s telepathy brushed against your mind. Y/N, we’re not alone. Be ready.

And then all hell broke loose.

Explosions rocked the compound as enemies swarmed in from every direction. You threw up your hands, quickly manipulating the air around you, converting oxygen molecules to corrosive acids to fend off the attackers. Beside you, Scott fired his optic blasts, and Jean’s telekinesis sent debris flying.

You ducked behind a large pole of concrete, peeking out at the attackers behind you. “Alchemy, think you can get to the data room and get what we came for?” Hank asked over comms, as he and Logan fought a group of attackers.

You took a deep breath and peeked out at the attackers. "I’ll do my best, Hank," you responded, scanning for a clear path to the data room. The explosions and gunfire made it difficult to focus, but you knew you had to move.

“Cover her!” Logan’s voice barked out, and you felt a small surge of determination. He was counting on you. The team was counting on you. It was almost too much pressure to bear.

Ororo and Jean moved to provide cover as you darted toward the entrance of the data room. You manipulated the chemicals in the air around you, creating a thick fog to obscure the attackers' vision, but it wouldn’t last long.

You slipped into the room and immediately went to work on the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. The download started, but it was slow, and you could hear the chaos outside intensifying.

“Hurry it up, Alchemy!” Scott’s voice came over the comms, tension clear in his tone.

“Almost there,” you muttered, eyes glued to the screen. The progress bar crept forward, painfully slow. You glanced over your shoulder, half expecting an attacker to burst through the door at any moment.

A loud crash echoed through the room as part of the hallway imploded, sending dust and debris flying. You ducked, covering your head with your arms as the force of the blast knocked you off balance. The data was still downloading—just a few more seconds. But the chaos outside was getting worse.

"Y/N!" Logan's voice crackled through the comms, barely audible over the noise. "Get out of there, now!"

"Almost done!" you yelled back, heart pounding. The progress bar was at 95%. You just needed a little more time.

Another explosion rocked the compound, and you heard Logan shout something to the others. You could hear gunfire and the clash of metal against metal as the team fought off the attackers. Every second felt like an eternity.

"Got it!" you exclaimed as the download completed. You yanked the USB drive from the computer and turned to make your escape. You entered the open area where the rest of the team was fighting, just as part of the ceiling fell. Instinctively, you raised your hands and quickly converted the falling cement into water, which drenched you from head to toe.

You grimaced, pushing your wet hair from your face, but there was no time to focus on the discomfort. The fight was still raging, and Logan’s voice crackled over the comms again, "Princess, get out of there. Now."

“On my way!” you shouted, breaking into a sprint to rejoin the team. You dodged debris, your heartbeat in your ears, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As you rounded the corner, Scott called out through comms, “everyone get dow- ”

Before you could react or shield yourself, a blast came from all around you, an explosion of some kind. You watched as Logan tackled Jean to the ground, shielding her. It was instinctual, he was only protecting a teammate, and Jean was the closest one to him. At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

You hit the ground hard, your body skidding across the concrete before colliding with a pile of debris. Pain exploded in your side as you groaned, gasping for breath. Dazed, you tried to push yourself up, but your vision swam.

Your hand came down to your side, fingers grazing the sticky warmth on your glove. It wasn’t the water from earlier—you knew that now. The sharp pain spreading through your body confirmed it. You blinked, vision blurring for a second, but your focus quickly snapped back as your instincts kicked in.

"Princess, come in! Y/N!" Logan’s voice crackled over the comms, but it sounded distant, like he was yelling from the other side of a tunnel.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, struggling to push yourself to your feet. Your side screamed in protest, but you forced yourself to ignore it. You couldn’t afford to be down for long. Not when everything around you was falling apart.

You looked up to see Logan pulling Jean to her feet, his eyes scanning the battlefield before locking onto you. For a split second, his eyes widened, and then his expression darkened.

“Stay where you are,” Logan barked, already moving toward you, cutting through the debris and chaos like a force of nature. His claws were out, gleaming even in the dim light, but it wasn’t the enemies he was focused on. It was you.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, though the words felt weaker this time. The pain was growing worse, and you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward.

Logan was in front of you in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. “You’re not fine,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He looked down at your side, and his lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch,” you lied, even as the pain in your side flared again, making it harder to breathe. You tried to step back, to shake off his hands, but Logan wouldn’t let you move.

“You are not fine,” Logan repeated, his eyes dark as they focused on the piece of metal lodged in your side. His hand hovered over it, the blood seeping from the wound making his jaw clench.

“Logan, seriously,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

You tried to brush him off, to act like the sharp, burning pain radiating from your side wasn’t there, but Logan’s hands didn’t move from your shoulders. His grip was firm, almost like he was grounding you.

“Stop lying to me, Princess,” he growled softly, his eyes flicking from your face to the metal in your side. “It’s not nothing. I can smell the blood.”

The way he said it made your face flush, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t just annoyed; he was worried. It was written all over his face, in the tension of his body, in the way his claws were still out, ready to strike at anything that came near.

“Logan- ” you started, but he cut you off.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice low but commanding. “I’m getting this out.”

He knelt down in front of you, his large hands gently holding your waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine despite the situation. You bit your lip, trying to focus on something- anything- other than the way his hands felt on you.

“This is gonna hurt,” he warned, glancing up at you. His eyes softened just a bit, as if he was trying to reassure you.

“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, though the knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. It wasn’t the pain you were worried about.

Logan gave you a quick nod, then, with a sharp tug, he pulled the metal shard from your side. You bit down on a groan, your vision blurring for a moment as the pain shot through you. The wound was deeper than you’d realized, and the blood quickly soaked through your suit.

“Damn it,” Logan muttered under his breath, pressing his hand against your side to try and stop the bleeding. “We need to get you back to the jet. You’re losing too much blood.”

“I can handle it,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to stand up straighter. “We still have enemies out there. I’m not leaving the fight.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “The hell you aren’t.”

You tried to argue, but the pain flared again, and your vision swam. You stumbled, and Logan caught you easily, pulling you against him.

“Stubborn,” he muttered, his voice close to your ear now. “You’re as bad as me.”

“I learned from the best,” you said, trying to force a smile through the pain. But it was hard to keep the act up when your body was screaming at you to lie down, to rest.

Logan’s grip tightened on you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him. His body was solid and warm, and despite the chaos around you, there was something comforting about his presence.

“We’re getting you back to the jet, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not staying out here like this.”

“But- ” you started to protest, but Logan cut you off again.

“No ‘buts,’ princess. You’re hurt. Let the rest of us handle it.”

Before you could argue again, he gently but firmly hoisted you up into his arms. The movement made your side burn, but you were too stunned by the fact that Logan was carrying you to care.

“Logan, put me down,” you said, your face heating up in embarrassment. “I can walk.”

“Not happening,” he grunted, his arms strong and steady around you. “You can yell at me later if you want. Right now, we’re getting you patched up.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. His face was set in that familiar scowl, but there was something else in his eyes. Concern? Maybe even fear?

“Logan, I’m fine,” you tried again, but your voice was weaker this time. The truth was, you were exhausted. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore.

Logan didn’t respond, his jaw tight as he carried you through the debris and chaos. You caught sight of Ororo and Scott still fighting off the last of the enemies, and Jean was using her telekinesis to hold back another explosion.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through the noise, her eyes widening as she saw you in Logan’s arms.

“She’s hurt,” Logan said, not stopping as he headed for the jet. “I’m getting her out of here.”

Jean looked like she wanted to protest, but she gave a quick nod, her focus shifting back to the battle. “Go. We’ll finish up here.”

As Logan carried you back to the Blackbird, you couldn’t help but glance up at him again. His face was still set in that determined, protective expression, and your heart did another flip.

This wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something else between you two, something you had been too scared to admit to yourself. But now, with Logan holding you close, the weight of his concern for you pressing down on your heart, it was impossible to ignore.

So, for now, you let yourself enjoy the warmth of him around you, lingering in it for as long as you could. Because you knew this is the closest you were ever going to get to him holding you like he cared.

---

You blinked, hearing muffled arguing coming from outside the medbay, Jean coming over to your side. “Hey, there. You’ve been out for a day.”

“A day?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“You sustained significant blood loss, but luckily the metal didn’t hit any organs, or it would be a much different story,” Jean said gently, her eyes watching you with concern.

You blinked a few times, your head still foggy from the whole ordeal. “A day? I’ve been out for a day?”

Jean nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. “You’re tougher than you think, Y/N. You just need to rest.”

You sighed, glancing around the medbay. The arguing from outside caught your attention again. Jean seemed to notice it too, her expression turning slightly more serious.

“Logan’s been a little... on edge since you were brought back,” she said carefully.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan. You tried not to let it show, but you’d always been bad at hiding your feelings. Jean gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Don’t worry about him. He just- well, you know Logan.”

You chuckled softly, though it hurt to do so. “Yeah, I know Logan.”

Jean gave you a sympathetic look, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “He’s been worried. More than usual.”

You raised an eyebrow. “More than usual?”

Jean nodded. “You know how he gets. All gruff and ‘I don’t care,’ but it’s just a front. He was pacing outside the medbay the entire time we were patching you up.”

The idea of Logan pacing, stressed about you, felt both strange and oddly comforting. It was hard to imagine him being that concerned over anyone—let alone you.

The door to the medbay creaked open, and Logan’s familiar, rugged form stepped inside. His eyes immediately locked on you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the set of his jaw that told you he was angry. And worried.

Jean gave you a quick smile and a soft pat on your arm before standing. “I’ll give you two some space.”

As Jean left, the room fell into an awkward silence. Logan stood by the door for a moment, arms crossed, not moving. His eyes scanned you, probably taking in the bandages, the way you were still propped up on the medbay bed, looking a little worse for wear.

“Hey,” you said quietly, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Logan muttered, walking over to your bed with heavy steps. He didn’t sit, just loomed at the foot of the bed, arms still crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked up at him, trying to push past the discomfort. “I’m fine, really. Jean said I’m tougher than I think.”

“Yeah, and you’re also reckless,” Logan shot back, his voice rough. “You almost got yourself killed out there, Princess.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, and you looked away, fiddling with the blanket. You liked it when he called you that, but at the same time it almost felt like he still saw you as a kid. “I didn’t mean to. I was just doing my job.”

Logan let out a sharp breath, and for a second, you thought he was going to start yelling at you. Instead, he sighed and finally sat down on the chair next to your bed. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired.

“I know you were doing your job,” Logan said, his voice quieter now. “But you gotta be more careful. I thought—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching as he stared at the floor. “I thought I lost you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, like the very idea of you being gone was unbearable to him. You swallowed, unsure of what to say. You’d never seen Logan like this—so raw, so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Logan glanced up at you, his eyes softening just a bit. “You scared the hell outta me, sweetheart.”

The nickname sent a familiar warmth through your chest, but this time it wasn’t just the usual flustered feeling. There was something more behind it, something deeper that you’d never allowed yourself to believe was possible.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeated, feeling small under his gaze. “I just... I wanted to do my part.”

Logan’s expression softened even more, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. “I get that. You’re tough, Princess. But you’re also important. To the team... and to me.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. Did he just say that? Did Logan—Logan, of all people—just admit you were important to him? Your mind was racing, trying to process what he meant, but before you could say anything, Logan stood up abruptly, like he regretted letting those words slip.

“You need rest,” he said, his voice gruff again as he turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Logan left the medbay, leaving you alone with the beeping machines.

---

A few days later you were released from the medbay and told to take it easy by Jean. Which you took to heart, perhaps a little too much.

You stayed in your room, only leaving at abnormal times to get food and water since you didn’t want to run into Logan. After all, you were young, practically a child to him, and all you wanted was for your crush on him to fade away like so many others did before.

That’s what you kept telling yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to handle. Your crush on Logan had always been this quiet thing, something you never intended to act on. But now, after everything, it felt like it had grown louder, more noticeable. And that scared you.

You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed, idly fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Maybe you just needed to... talk to him. Be normal again. You’d been friends before, hadn’t you? It wasn’t like he knew how you felt, anyway.

Just as you were considering going for a walk to clear your head, there was a knock at your door. You froze.

“Y/N?” Ororo’s voice came from the other side, soft but steady. “You in there?”

You quickly got up, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Ororo stood there, arms crossed, giving you that look—like she knew exactly what was going on with you. It was unnerving, how she always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone emotionally.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at nonchalance. “You’ve been hiding.”

You blinked. “I haven’t been hiding.”

Ororo gave you a look. “Please. I haven’t seen you at meal times, and Logan’s been extra grumpy. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”

You felt your face heat up. “Logan’s grumpy all the time.”

“He’s more grumpy than usual,” Ororo said, stepping into your room and closing the door behind her. “He’s been asking around. Wants to know why you’re avoiding him.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “He said that?”

Ororo nodded, leaning against your desk. “He won’t admit it’s bothering him, but it is. What’s going on?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you sat back down on the bed. “I just... I don’t know, okay? Things got weird after the mission, and I needed space.”

“Logan didn’t do anything wrong,” Ororo pointed out gently.

“I know,” you mumbled. “It’s not him. It’s me.”

Ororo tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sitting beside you on the bed. “You’re worried about how he sees you, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “I mean, kinda of. He doesn’t see me in the way I see him, y’know?”

Ororo gave you a knowing look, her lips quirking up slightly. "And how do you see him?"

You hesitated, feeling your face heat up again. "I... I don’t know. It's just... he’s Logan. He’s been through so much, seen so much, and I’m just… me. The kid who got lucky with mutant powers and likes chemistry too much."

Ororo smiled gently, shaking her head. "You’re selling yourself short, Y/N. You're a lot more than that. And Logan sees it."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Ororo held up a hand. "I’m not saying he knows exactly what he's feeling, but he's not as oblivious as you think. And trust me, the way he’s been acting lately, it’s clear you’re important to him."

You sighed, flopping back on the bed. "Maybe, but it’s not like that. It can’t be. He’s Logan—he doesn’t do the whole feelings thing."

Ororo chuckled softly. "You’d be surprised. He’s more in tune with his feelings than he lets on. He’s just… not used to showing them."

You frowned up at the ceiling. "Then why does it feel like I’m the only one getting all messed up over this?"

Ororo stood up, crossing her arms as she looked down at you. "Because you’re thinking too much, Alchemy. Maybe you should try talking to him instead of hiding."

"I’m not hiding!" you protested weakly.

"Uh-huh," Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, hiding or not, he’s not going to let this go. Logan’s stubborn like that."

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. "Great. That’s exactly what I need."

Ororo chuckled again. "Just… talk to him. It might help. You can’t avoid him forever."

You sighed, peeking out from under the pillow. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it."

Ororo smiled softly before heading toward the door. "Good. And Y/N?"

You looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Give yourself a little more credit," Ororo said gently. "You’re not just some kid to him. He cares about you. Maybe more than either of you realizes."

Before you could respond, she slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the knot of nervousness growing in your stomach.

---

The next day, you were wandering through the mansion’s empty halls after lunch. You weren’t hiding per se, but you were definitely avoiding a certain someone. Ororo’s words kept echoing in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right. Talking to Logan was probably the only way to clear this weird tension between you, but the thought of actually doing it made you want to curl up and disappear.

As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you almost walked straight into him.

"Whoa, easy there, Princess," Logan’s gruff voice startled you as he steadied you with a hand on your arm. "Where you off to in such a hurry?"

You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I-I wasn’t—uh, just wandering."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but amused. "You’ve been ‘just wandering’ a lot lately."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. This was it. The moment you’d been dreading. He was right here, and there was no avoiding him now.

Logan sighed, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. "You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart."

There it was. The thing you’d been trying to dodge. Your heart raced, and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. "I haven’t been avoiding you."

Logan huffed, his expression softening a little. "I ain’t stupid, Y/N. You haven’t been around much since the mission. What’s goin’ on?"

You swallowed hard, feeling your palms start to sweat. "It’s nothing. I just... needed some space. That’s all."

Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, studying you. "Space from me?"

You looked down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting. "Not exactly. I just... things got a little weird, okay?"

"Weird how?" Logan’s voice was still rough, but there was a hint of something gentler beneath it. Concern, maybe?

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you’d been avoiding him was because your stupid crush had spiraled into something much more confusing and intense? You couldn’t just blurt that out. Could you?

Logan’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, and he took a step closer, his voice low. "Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you glanced up at him. He was so close now, and the familiar warmth in his eyes was making it hard to think straight.

"I just... I didn’t want to make things awkward between us," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why would things be awkward?"

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Because I... I care about you, Logan. A lot. And I know you don’t feel the same way because you still like Jean- ”

Logan's frown deepened, and he shook his head almost immediately. "Jean? What’re you talkin’ about?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you bit your lip, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, I just assumed... everyone knows you used to have feelings for her, and it’s fine, really. I get it. I just didn’t want to make things weird by—"

"Y/N," Logan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. He stepped closer, his gaze locking with yours. "I ain’t thinkin’ about Jean like that anymore."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You’re not?"

Logan shook his head again, a hint of frustration slipping through. "No, sweetheart. That’s done with. It’s been done with for a while."

Your mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. If he wasn’t still hung up on Jean, then... What did that mean? Why had he been acting so tense around you?

"Then why have you been so... distant?" you asked softly, your voice wavering. "You’ve been acting weird too, Logan. It’s not just me."

Logan looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck—a rare sign of discomfort from him. When he spoke again, his voice was a little gruffer. "I’ve been... tryin’ to figure some stuff out, alright?"

"Figure what out?" you pressed gently, taking a step closer to him now. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, but you didn’t back down. "Logan, just talk to me."

He sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a second, you saw something vulnerable flash through his expression—something raw. He was quiet for a beat before he finally spoke.

"After that mission," he said slowly, his voice low, "when I saw you get hurt... somethin’ in me snapped. I couldn’t... I couldn’t handle it, Y/N. The thought of losin’ you like that—" He broke off, his jaw tightening, and you could see the tension in his shoulders. "I’ve been through a lotta shit in my life. Seen people come and go. But you? The idea of you bein’ gone—it messed me up more than I thought it would."

You stood there, staring at him, trying to absorb what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking about the mission anymore. This was more than that.

"Logan..." you whispered, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I didn’t know you—"

"I didn’t know it either," he interrupted, his voice rough but sincere. "I didn’t know I felt like this ‘til it hit me. I care about you, Princess. More than I care to admit, sometimes. And I ain’t exactly good at this... feelings thing, y’know that."

Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, and for a moment, you were convinced you’d misheard him. Logan cared about you? Like that? It felt surreal.

"You... you care about me?" you asked cautiously, your voice small.

Logan huffed, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. "Hell yeah, I do. I’ve been tryin’ to push it down for a while now, but it ain’t workin’. Not anymore."

You stared at him in disbelief, your pulse racing. "But... I’m just—"

"Don’t even start with that ‘I’m just me’ bullshit," Logan cut you off again, his tone more serious. "You ain’t ‘just’ anything, Y/N. You’re smart, tough as nails, and you’ve got a good heart. You matter to me. And not in some ‘kid sister’ kinda way either, if that’s what you’re thinkin’."

Your cheeks flushed, and your heart skipped a beat. He was being so direct, so honest, and it left you completely speechless.

Logan shifted a little closer, his gaze softening even more as he looked down at you. "I don’t know when it happened, but it did. You got under my skin, sweetheart. And as much as I tried to ignore it... I can’t."

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. This was really happening. Logan—gruff, stoic Logan—was telling you that he had feelings for you. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like a kid around him. You felt like someone who mattered, someone he saw.

"I..." you started, your voice shaking a little. "I didn’t think you’d ever... I mean, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I just figured—"

Logan chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to brush your cheek gently. The touch was gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You figured wrong, Princess."

You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he was looking at you—it wasn’t just teasing or friendly banter. It was something deeper, something real. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. “I thought I was just… I don’t know, bothering you or something.”

Logan’s hand lingered near your face, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the sincerity in them, the raw emotion he wasn’t hiding anymore. “You ain’t a bother, sweetheart. Far from it. And if I’ve been actin’ like I don’t care, that’s on me. But I do care. A lot.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His touch, his words—it was all too much, too overwhelming. You’d been crushing on Logan for what felt like forever, and now he was standing here, telling you he felt the same way. It didn’t feel real.

“Logan, I…” You started, but your words trailed off as his hand slid down to your neck, his rough palm warm against your skin. The way he was looking at you, the intensity in his gaze, made it impossible to think straight.

“Stop thinkin’ so hard,” Logan murmured, his voice low and rough. “Just… be here. With me.”

Your heart pounded as you met his eyes, your stomach doing flips. You didn’t even realize you’d been holding your breath until you let it out in a shaky exhale. “Okay.”

For a moment, everything felt like it slowed down—the air between you humming with tension. Logan leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, and you could feel his breath warm against your lips. It felt like time had stopped, like nothing else in the world mattered but this moment.

Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his.

Logan responded instantly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he kissed you with a kind of intensity that made your knees weak. It wasn’t slow or hesitant—it was rough, urgent, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

You kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping his shirt as you melted into him. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, and the way he kissed you sent a shock of electricity through your entire body. It was everything you’d imagined and more.

Logan’s free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left between your bodies. You could feel the strength in him, the raw power that he usually kept under tight control, but there was also a tenderness in the way he touched you, like he was afraid of hurting you.

The kiss deepened, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him—in the way he tasted, the way he smelled like leather and pine, the way his hands moved over your body like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Logan’s hands were still on you, one tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he didn’t want to let go.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You really are somethin’, Princess.”

You laughed softly, feeling a little dizzy from the kiss, from everything. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wolverine.”

Logan smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “Could’ve told me sooner, y’know. Saved me a lotta trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, still grinning. “Yeah, well, you could’ve said something too. You had me thinking I was crazy this whole time.”

He huffed a laugh, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Guess we’re both idiots then.”

You bit your lip, still trying to process everything. You’d kissed Logan. Actually kissed him. And he’d kissed you back. It felt like a dream, like any second now you were going to wake up and realize none of this had happened.

But it had. He was still here, his arms around you, his eyes on you, his lips still tingling from the kiss. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel nervous or uncertain around him. You felt… right.

[dumbseee]

matchmaker.

in which max is tired of lando being a single mess, so he plays matchmaker.

lando norris x famous!reader.

fc: sabrina carpenter.

_

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, madisonbeer and 1 738 929 others.

y/n: lil photodump 💭

_

madisonbeer: my goddess!! miss you pookie xx

liked by y/n.

user: QUEEN OMGGBSKSKSL

user: she’s addicted to slaying

user: pls come to brazil!!

user: can’t wait to see you in paris!!

user: she’s so pretty wtf

user: Y/N AND MADISON COLLAB WHEN??

user: emails i can’t send is a masterpiece y/n!!

user: JUST ONE CHANGE IM BEGGING AHKSOSLSL

user: the man who’s going to date her is literally the luckiest man on earth

see more.

_

imessages between max and lando.

max:

mate

i have good news

lando:

what?

i’m scared actually

max:

fuck off

it’s for your own sake

lando:

okay NOW i’m terrified

max:

SHUT IT

you’re going on a blind date tonight

lando:

um

no?

max:

wasn’t a question you idiot

be ready at 9

a car will come pick you up

lando:

DHAT

WHAT

MAX ANWSER

WITH WHO???

I REFUSE

_

_

imessages between max and lando.

lando:

max fewtrell.

did you REALLY sent me on a blind date with Y/N FUCKING L/N??

WITHOUT WARNING ME??

i was SO embarrassing

max:

okay for my defense, i didn’t know

i asked kika to find me someone who could match your vibe and apparently it had to be y/n…

BUT apparently it went well so we good

lando:

mate

i fucking spilled my wine on her expensive looking dress

i tripped over my own feet when i got up to pay the bill

i stuttered when she asked for my NAME

i almost slipped when i tried to open the car door for her

i answered « that’s cool » when she told me that the inspiration for her new album was her past and traumatic relationship

max:

holy shit dude

she’s never calling you again that’s for SURE

well at least we tried

lando:

wait till i catch you and kika

i’ll run you over with my car

BOTH OF YOU TRAITORS

max:

i’m innocent

it’s all kika’s fault

_

_

imessages between max, kika and lando.

kika:

YOU COWARD

SHE THINKS YOU DIDN’T LIKE HER

TEXT HER NOW

max:

why are we yelling

kika:

go on twitter and see for yourself

lando:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DIDN’T LIKE HER??

she should be the one to dislike me i literally made a fool out of myself BECAUSE I WASN’T PREPARED TO MEET MY CELEBRITY CRUSH???

kika:

you should be always prepared lando norris

lando:

omg give me a break

what should i do?

max:

her fans hate you lmao

text her maybe?

kika:

I HAVE A BETTER IDEA

invite her for the miami gp!

yes i’m a genius

lando:

do you want me to crash on the wall francisca?

i will 100% fumble the race if i know she’s watching

max:

oh my god

why are you such a pussy?

lando:

fuck YOU

this is all your fault

kika:

if you don’t invite her, i WILL

lando:

FINE

but if i die i’ll haunt your ass forever

kika:

who knows maybe you’ll finally win a race ;)

mister lando NOwins

lando:

wow i didn’t know mister pierre gasly was a race winner already

max:

okay enough you two

_

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, francisca.cgomes and 2 628 048 others.

y/n: may not know a lot about formula one, but i know for a fact that you deserved that win. i can’t wait to be with you during your journey, pretty boy <3

_

landonorris: i couldn’t ask for a better partner, pretty girl <3

user: YESSS FINALLY

user: omg they’re together??

user: WTFFFABSKSLMSLS

user: no bc why are they so cute??

user: aww she was so happy for him when he won

user: lmao the cameraman kept zooming in on her when lando won ajsksllz

user: PARENTS

user: CONGRATS LANDO

user: he better treat her right

user: they’re cute ngl

see more.

[reidsdimples]

“He pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue.”

Paintings With His Tongue

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥MDNI ‼️

“Come on, just tell me what you’re thinking,” Reid smirks and tosses a ball of tissue paper at you.

You cross your legs and tug up your knee high socks. The carpet in his apartment is soft on your legs and you shake your head as you continue to wrap JJ’s baby shower gifts from the team.

You had gotten her a puzzle with the new baby’s name as the pieces ‘Michael’ it read. You thought it went so well with Henry,

“I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s a me issue,” you shake your head. You had bit your tongue on a risqué joke that could have been taken as a pass at him.

The truth was, you were extremely pent up. You dumped your abusive ex weeks ago when he bruised your eye. Even before then, your needs were not being met. But you have always had a thing for Dr.Reid and now being alone with him in his apartment… you were barley holding yourself together.

He moistened his plump lips with his tongue in frustration and sighed. The movements of his deft fingers as he wrapped a present caused you to squirm. How exactly the two of you got roped into present wrapping duty was still a mystery. Though you guessed Garcia was trying to finally push you two into each other like Barbie and Ken dolls. You smile to yourself.

“See? What was that- what are you thinking?” He calls you out.

“You may never know,” you flirt and snatch the tape from his grip.

He raises an eyebrow at you, those deep brown eyes pleading.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, placing your crossed feet on his lap. His eyes travel up to your short skirt which allows him a view of your creamy thighs. You swear he swallows hard.

“I was just thinking…” you start slowly. He leans forward attentively.

He rests one hand on your shin, his long fingers wrapping it completely.

“Thinking what?” The air charges and he separates your crossed legs only to lean forward and closes the distance between the two of you. Your heart hammers and you forget how to breathe.

“I…” you think he’s about to kiss you as he gets closer, forcing you to pull your knees to your chest to give him room as you lean back on your palms.

He snatches the other wrapping paper from behind you and moves back to sit. You inhale sharply and shake your head. Fuck.

He pushes his hair back from his face and you nearly fall apart. You know you need to do something about your neediness. He’s your coworker for fucks sake.

Then an idea pops into your head.

“You know what, we’re profilers. Why don’t YOU tell me what I’M thinking,” you challenge him.

He looks up at you through his messy long hair with the handle of the scissors in his mouth. His fingers quickly work to tape up the diaper bag for JJ.

“I don’t know if I…”

“You doubt your abilities Dr. Reid?” You sit up straight.

“I doubt you’ll like what I profile,” he reasons.

That makes you doubt he knows what you’re actually thinking.

“Try me,” you demand and stuff a bag full of tissue paper.

He narrows his eyes on you and loosens his tie. The dark cardigan was already tossed into the couch three presents ago and he begins rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re healing from your recent break up. You feel guilty that you miss him because he hurt you but you do. What you don’t quit understand is that you miss attention, not him. You deserve better but you don’t think so,” he pauses to sip his wine. You tilt your head.

“Is that it?” You jest.

“You knew you and I would be alone so you’re wearing something more revealing than you might have otherwise. You flip your hair over your shoulder to draw my attention to your neck. You lean back and allow me to see your thighs because you want me between them.”

Your mouth falls open at his words. But he doesn’t stop there.

“Not because you want me specifically but because you want that attention I mentioned before. Perhaps a distraction or…”

“No- that’s not true,” you cut him off.

“You’re wearing glasses, knee high socks, and a school girl style skirt because you perceive me as intellectually superior. You have a school girl and teacher fantasy you wish to act out.”

He leans forward between your legs again. He braces himself above you when you lean back on your elbows and he keeps talking.

“You’ve been trembling since you got here, you won’t stop biting your lip, and you keep squeezing your thighs together. You were about to make a joke that showed your hand but thought better of it because you fear rejection. You also don’t want to cross professional boundaries, and you can’t gauge where my interests lie.”

You’re dumbfounded, actually speechless as his breath fans across your face.

“Your inability to read my micro expressions leaves you feeling uncertain about the chemistry we have and I intended it to be that way. The truth is I want nothing for than to bury my face between your legs and make you scream my name until your throat is so sore that you remember it everytime you speak tomorrow,” he holds your gaze and you’re melting.

You feel your cunt pulsing with need and you want to squeeze your thighs together for some relief but you can’t because he’s kneeling between them.

“Please,” is all you can manager to whimper.

He grips you behind the knees and slides you forward so quickly you barely register it. You fall willingly onto your back with a soft huff and watch him meticulously roll your skirt up. His hair is messy and disheveled and he seems to be panting with need just like you are.

Wrapping paper crinkles beneath you but you don’t care when he leans down and begins kissing your thighs.

“Spencer,” you inhale in shock at his lips on your skin.

He continues to kiss your soft skin then starts nipping it gently. His fingers dig into the outside of your thighs, pinning them open. You never would have thought he’d be so… demanding?

He starts to kiss your pussy through your underwear and you writhe against him. The friction is heaven but the view of him there could send you both straight to hell. He moves one hand up to your hip to pin you down why he uses a thumb to rub your clit. He’s kissing your pussy gently and you know you’re soaked, you know he can feel it through the thin fabric.

Finally he rolls your panties down and out of the way. He looks up at you for consent ones more and dives in like he’s been waiting to his entire life.

It’s too much, it’s everything. His nose pushes against your clit, his tongue drags up between your folds, he comes back down to your interest and pushes his tongue into it into you mewl.

He’s moaning and he licks and laps at your cunt, slowly to savor it. He moans as he sucks your clit into his mouth and moves back down to your hole.

“Oh my god,” you cry and tighten your thighs around his head.

He sucks on your pussy and audibly devours you on his living room floor. He skillfully and artfully brings you to climax and before you know it you’re coming over and over again for him. You pant beneath him and whimper but he doesn’t stop.

He makes small whimpering noises of approval and eats you like a man starved. Your pussy quivers and responds to him as he continues to beckon more cum out of you. You swear his tongue must be painting a masterpiece or spelling every word in the English language.

“One more,” he pants from between your legs.

You roll your eyes back as the fourth orgasm siezes you. You can’t even try to tense your legs anymore, they’re jell-o. You’re shocked when the last orgasm is more squirting that your usual.

“I’m sorry!” You squeal but he laughs and dives back into you, his strong hands still gripping your hips. You cover your face in embarrassment, not ever having had more than one orgasm per sexual encounter.

Ones he fills himself on that last orgasm which left you red faced and embarrassed, Spencer sits up from between your legs. He’s on his knees looking down out you when he brings his shirt up to wipe his face.

You cover your eyes with your hands, utterly shy under his gaze.

“You are incredible,” he breathes.

“Me? You… you’re the one that did all the… that,” you stammer gesturing between the two of you. You sit back up and pull your skirt down.

“Mhmm,” he grins sinisterly at you.

You remain in awe that this man just did that to you. You crushed on him but you never imagined him to be so skilled, so dirty mouthed, and egotistic about his abilities. You glance down and see just how much he enjoyed himself, taken aback by the length of said enjoyment.

You lick your lips hungrily.

“For the record. It’s not about attention for me, I genuinely like you,” you assert and reach for his belt.

He raises his eyebrow in a ‘touché’ manner and crosses his hands behind his back as he watches you pull him free from his pants.

[borom1r]

well evil dead rise was HIGHLY mediocre.

[mochinomnoms]

say you can't sleep, baby, I know

NSFW!Trey x Reader

Synopsis

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”

[wc} - 5,258

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat

[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!

Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.

Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:

“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”

Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 

He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 

That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 

Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.

“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”

“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”

Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.

“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”

“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”

Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 

“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”

Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.

“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 

Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 

“No need to be a brat.”

Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 

“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 

Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 

Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 

That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.

It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 

They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 

Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 

Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 

“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 

“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”

He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 

“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.

“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”

Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.

To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.

He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.

“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 

The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.

It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 

cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!

Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.

luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘

Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 

He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 

Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 

cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉

Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 

Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.

As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 

He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.

“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 

He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  

“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”

Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.

Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 

“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”

Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 

“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”

Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 

You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 

Holy shit you were wearing stockings.

“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”

You're trying to rile him up, right?

“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”

He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.

“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”

Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 

“Happy Birthday Trey~”

It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.

He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 

But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.

How could he be expected to sleep now?

Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.

Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 

A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 

“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”

You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 

“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”

He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 

“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”

Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”

The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 

“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 

He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 

“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 

Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 

“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”

Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.

“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”

So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 

“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 

“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”

Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 

“Haaah—”

Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 

“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”

A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 

“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 

“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”

Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”

A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 

“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”

Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 

“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”

A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 

“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”

Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 

He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 

Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.

“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 

Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”

In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 

“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 

Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.

Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.

His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 

“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 

Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 

Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 

Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 

Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”

Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 

From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 

Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  

“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 

“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”

Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 

Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 

Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?

Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.

“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”

Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 

“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”

Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 

Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 

Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.

Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 

Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.

Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 

“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”

You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 

“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”

Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 

“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”

You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.

As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 

“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 

Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 

“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”

A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 

“I love you too…”

*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 

“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 

“Glasses…glasses…ah..”

Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.

“Mmm, honey?” 

Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 

“Early…”

You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 

“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”

“…Ugh, I do?”

Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 

“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.

“Ugggh, yeah…”

Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 

He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”

Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.

Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 

Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 

“Ah! Trey, what is it?”

cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!

“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”

You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”

Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 

“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”

He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 

At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: APPARENTLY THIS IS A GUY NAMED DAVOS BLACKWOOD. But he literally IS Bloody Ben. So he's staying Bloody Ben.

P.s. I'm ageing Benjicot up so he's around 24 or whatever age you want him to be that's over 18 <3

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・It wasn't an arranged marriaged. No, not by any means.

・You had been sent by your Queen to remind the Houses of Westeros their pledge to her. And Rhaenyra had chosen you to go to the Blackwoods.

"I expect you will be welcomed warmly," her Grace said with a warm smile.

You bowed your head and returned the smile.

・You always felt safe around Rhaenyra, she was someone very close to you. Someone who you would fight to the death for.

・The first time Benji saw you, his heart stopped...which was a very fair reaction as you were atop your fearsome dragon, The Cannibal.

・You bonded with the wild dragon when you were 13 - it was the first day of your periods and you were sick and tired of being without a dragon.

・It was in your blood. And you were done waiting.

・Your first flight with Cannibal was difficult - although the blood magic seemed to be strong between the two of you.

・You were the exact person he was waiting for.

・So when your duty came to aid Queen Rhaenyra; she did asked for you to unite with a House through marriage

・That was heavy - a big duty that you did not think would need to happen, since you bonded with Cannibal. Wouldn't you be put on the front lines straight away? Her answer was no.

・But you knew the realities of war and faced your duty head on (you know Cannibal will always defend you)

・Your marriage was a significant one. All the Blackwoods were invited, and Rhaenyra was there to oversee the ceremony.

・However, having all of your family there would have been another Red Wedding, so only a few choice people from your side could be invited.

・Nonetheless, it was absolutely beautiful.

・Dragonfire lit the skies, chasing away the dark. Even Cannibal was having a good time. There were tributes made to him - sheep, cow, goats galore. You swore you saw him smiling.

・What you absolutely weren't expecting was Benji to INTERACT with Cannibal...

・He brought up a bull from the biggest hoard they had. Benji watched as the dragon practically gulped the animal down. However, he wasn't scared - he was impressed. And intrigued.

・You were absolutely moved by Benji's act. Truly. Because it showed his bravery. His daring. And of course his caring. You knew, you could feel the way Cannibal was feeling - and he trusted this Blackwood.

・So you decided to give him a wedding present. A fly.

・By doing so, you broke down every single one of Benji's walls and he knew you were the one for him. His wife. His firt and only one.

・After a tough day, and you both go to your chambers; he'll grab your arm and kiss your wrist. A physical way of saying "I'm so glad you're alive and mine."

・Learns High Valyrian for you. He wanted to surprise you with it. And surprise you he did.

・You call each other: Ñuha jorrāelagon (my love), Ñuha prūmia (my heart),

・ A very particular sentence that Benji says a lot is: Nyke pendagon nūmāzma ao everyday (I think about you everyday)

・Of course he knows you can protect yourself; but that doesn't stop him from defending you. You're his world now. You mean so much to him.

・No body thought this union would work as well as it had.

・So, Bloody Ben & The Rider of Cannibal became a formidabble pair that made men tremble wherever they went.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Like Calls To Like

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Unbreakable Bond

Growth through Adversity

Bickering and Banter

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

The Politics & The Life by Daniel Pemberton

O Verona by The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Gives you complete and utter respect both in and out of the bedroom.

・Has never and will never push you to do anything you don't want to do

・The first time you were together, it felt like your bodies were on fire. Meant to burn together. The words kept replaying over and over in your head as he touched you. A deep yearning overtook you and suddenly time stopped.

・His lips were warm, his hands cold but when he took off his clothes, you couldn't help but grin.

・There's such desire between you two that even your mount can sense it.

・Your sex life is very active - at least once a day. Maybe you're in your Honeymoon period, but you cannot keep your hands off one another when you're alone

・And when you're at feasts, Benji's hands find their way down your thigh, and slowing inching inbetween them.

"Really, here? Now?" You asked n a hushed tone, trying not to draw any attention to either of you.

"Yes. Here, now. Or we can go into the hallway and I will ravish you there. Upto you, wife."

[letorip]

kiss with a fist

“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.

warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha

word count: 4.8k

A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.

===+++===

===+++===

The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.

“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.

"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.

“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.

"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."

She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”

“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”

“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.

"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.

"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."

"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."

"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"

You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."

"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.

"And what if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.

With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.

"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.

“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.

“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you insisted.

"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.

“Yes.”

“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"

Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.

"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.

"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”

"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."

"See, about that..." she trailed off.

"What.”

“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”

"What?”

"Yeah..."

You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."

"What!?"

"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."

Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”

“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”

“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.

“What are you trying to do?”

Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”

“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.

“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”

“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”

“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”

She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.

“Wow, so you do have a heart.”

She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”

“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I’m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.

“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.

“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”

“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”

“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.

“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.

“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.

===+++===

This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.

The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.

Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.

She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.

are you here yet???

You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.

“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.

“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”

“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.

“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.

“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”

“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”

“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.

You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.

It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.

"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.

"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."

"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."

Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."

You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."

"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."

"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."

You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.

"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.

"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.

"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."

The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.

You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.

"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.

She smirked evilly. "Nope."

Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.

You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"

Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.

"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.

"Oh, a month," you said.

"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.

You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.

You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."

"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.

"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.

"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.

"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"

"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.

"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."

"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."

"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.

"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.

"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.

"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."

"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.

“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.

===+++===

The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.

"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.

"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.

Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."

You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."

"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."

"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."

"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.

"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.

The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."

She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."

"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."

"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.

"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."

"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"

"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."

You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"

“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”

You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.

“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.

Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”

You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”

“Still.”

“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”

“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”

You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”

She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”

She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”

You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.

She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.

“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.

You groaned. “Now what.”

She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”

You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.

"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"

She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."

You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."

"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."

You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."

"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"

"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."

"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.

"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.

It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.

"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."

You nodded. "Whatever."

"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.

It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.

===+++===

part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 

   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 

   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 

   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 

   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 

   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 

   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 

   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 

   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 

   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 

   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 

   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

   “Yeah, you think so?” 

   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 

   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 

   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 

   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 

   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 

   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

   “You don’t want a night off though?”

   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 

   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 

   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 

   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 

   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 

   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 

   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 

   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 

   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 

   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 

   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 

   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 

   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 

   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 

   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 

   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven. 

   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 

   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 

   “Go easy on them.”

   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 

   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 

   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 

   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 

   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 

   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 

   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 

   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 

   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 

   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 

   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 

   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 

   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 

   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 

   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 

   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 

   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 

   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 

   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 

   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 

   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 

   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 

   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 

   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 

   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 

   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 

   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 

   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 

   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 

   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 

   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 

   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 

   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 

   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 

   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 

   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 

   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 

   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 

   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 

   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 

   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 

   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 

   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 

   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 

   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 

   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 

   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 

   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 

   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 

   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 

   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 

   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 

   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 

   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 

   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 

   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 

   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 

   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 

   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 

   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 

   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 

   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 

   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 

   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 

   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 

   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 

   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 

   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 

   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 

   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 

   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 

   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 

   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 

   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 

   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 

   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 

   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 

   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 

   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 

   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 

   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 

   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 

   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 

   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 

   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 

   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 

   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 

   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 

   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 

   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 

   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 

   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

[fangirl-dot-com]

☕️That's That Me Espresso

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Singer!Reader (fc Sabrina Carpenter) Genre: Fluff/SMAU Summary: Max had been single for the first time in almost 4 years. What do Lando and Charles do? Lightly set him up with a very popular acquaintance. They just hope he likes espresso.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

There was a different type of electricity in the air that Max was not familiar with. Sure, every race had that adrenalinistic atmosphere that, really, he had gotten numb to. But this, this was different. He might have even gone as far as to call it a “breath of fresh air.” 

His whole body was tired, especially after a grueling race. Why the FIA decided to push the Brazil Grand Prix to the dead middle of summer? He didn’t know why. But he had said enough passive aggressive remarks about the weather. The reason they gave was to avoid the typhoons that normally showed up during the later months of the year, when the usual race was scheduled. 

The Dutchman didn’t mind. The race last year, although the weekend had been soaked, hadn’t even been canceled. Sure there was rain, but they had raced in wetter conditions before. But, he had no control over the schedule. 

If he had been in charge, the calendar would have only 10 races comprised of all historical tracks, no US races, and sprints would be cast into the nearest dumpster. 

But Max Verstappen was not in charge of the Formula 1 calendar, and he was now standing backstage to some concert that Lando and Charles had dragged him and some other drivers to. They explained that it was for their girlfriends, but Lando didn’t have a girlfriend and Max knew he and Charles genuinely liked the pop genre. 

He just never bothered to listen to specific music. He went more by the vibes the song gave, and if he liked it, he liked it. There was no reason to go deep into the discography of the artist and the albums. 

Music was just music to Max. 

Well, that was until the lights dimmed and the most beautiful person, well to Max’s opinion, walked out in almost 6-inch heels and the shortest white skirt. 

Now, Max had been single for almost three months. He had known that Kelly was drifting, but he didn’t make any attempts to draw her back in. The close to four year relationship just fizzled. 

However, he was confused when his friends celebrated the breakup. Lando had gently told him that, while Penelope was very sweet, Kelly had been using him. Charles also brought up the fact that Kelly had said that she had a “magical meeting” with him when he was 19, practically a child with how fast he had to grow up. 

The 9 year age gap pretty much put people on edge about her. 

But Max had no time to dwell on that as he watched the female dance around, pretty skirt flipping up every time she skipped on stage. Her voice echoed through the large speakers, and Max found himself head bobbing to the beat. 

When there was a brief intermission, Lando had snaked his arm around his neck. 

“So how are you liking it?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink after. The Dutchman hadn’t taken his eyes of the door where she had gone through. 

“She’s very pretty.” 

Lando snorted, making Max turn to face his friend. 

“I didn’t ask about her mate, but good to know. I can introduce you to Y/n after the concert is over if you’d like me to.” 

Max’s eyes widened. 

So that’s what your name was. He thought it was very fitting, and he could start to daydream of how the vowels and consonants would sound through his mouth. He wondered if his lisp would accidentally seep through. 

“You would?” 

Lando sighed before calling Charles over. The brunet was quick to round the other side of the two drivers, now taking up Max’s left. 

“Yeah mate?” 

Lando slapped Max on the back, making him wince a bit, muscles still sore. 

“Our race winner here seems to be a bit infatuated with Y/n.” 

Charles wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Is he now? They’d be a nice pair wouldn’t you say Lando?” 

Max tuned the last bit of their conversation out as he watched you prance out of the door you disappeared through earlier. He didn’t know what caused you to look over as you were putting in your in-ears, but you did and your eyes met his. 

You quickly blushed under the gaze of the unfamiliar blond man as your eyes darted back to the ground. You had recognized Lando to his right (your left), but the man remained a mystery to you as you began to sing the second half of your set.

You kneeled on the edge of the stage and reached out for a Brazilian flag that a fan was desperately waving around. You took the soft fabric and wrapped it around your shoulders for the rest of the evening. 

Max thought you looked like an angel. The lights reflected your blond hair perfectly, creating almost a halo around your face. He himself wanted to give your stylists a raise for picking out the perfect hair, makeup, and outfit. 

You had a big smile as you waved to the crowds after your last encore. 

“Brasil! Voce tem sido incrive! Todos voces tem meu coracao! Te amo e boa noite!” 

You even had the voice of an angel. 

And you were now walking toward their group. Max was not prepared. Thankfully Lando and Charles were as they stepped in front Max and congratulated you on the concert. Every now and then in the conversation, your eyes flitted to the blond man, who was looking everywhere but you. 

“Y/n! I don’t believe you’ve met Max yet! Max this is Y/n, and Y/n this is Max Verstappen, current world champion.” 

The last words made Charles huff a bit, only being behind Max in the points this season by a small margin. You put your hand out for a shake but Max just looked at it, stared, then looked back up. 

“You’re very pretty.” 

He wanted to slap himself in the face, but your giggles that flew out of your mouth made him want to melt into the ground. Your hand covered your mouth as you looked up at him. Even with your heals, Max was still a half a foot taller than you. You know that it’d be closer to a full foot without your shoes, which you were desperately wanting to get out of. 

“Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I guess you hear that too often.” 

He actually didn’t. Most didn’t go for his stockier build, rounded features, and flat hair. He knew that many preferred Charles’s slim waist and Lando’s boyish looks. But here you were, looking up at him like he was God’s gift to mankind. Your round doe eyes were hitting all of his buttons. 

He smirked. “Not too many, but I only remember the gorgeous ones.” 

Oh, so he could flirt. That was news to Lando and Charles as they watched the interactions nearby. 

Lando leaned over when Max fished out his phone from his pant leg almost shy at the action. “I didn’t think he had it in him. I wonder if he has ever had the chance to try to date.” 

Charles hummed. “He had a few girlfriends before Kelly. But again, they were all older. Y/n is only 22.” 

When you trailed off to go change, Max walked over to the duo with a dopey smile. 

“I think I’m in love.” 

y/nl/n has posted

liked by landonorris, y/nisqueen, mothery/n, and 3,205,094 others y/nl/n brasil! you were amazing! Te amo, te amo! I will miss you all 💚💛🇧🇷

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y/nnation this concert was just chef's kiss!!

y/nisqueen the outfits, the flag, the hair - oh my gosh I love her

f1xy/n did anyone else see that tweet about the f1 drivers in attendance??

norris/n I hope that lando was there, him and y/n would be so cute

maxxy/n I think y/n and max would be so cutie tho

landonorris great show once again y/n!

y/nl/n glad that you and your friends could come see!!

teamy/n your honor I love her

Another giggle left your lips as you were driven back to your hotel. Your manager was watching you with fond eyes, happy to see you all smiley. Your last relationship had not ended well, leaving you heartbroken and depressed. But your emotions fueled you to write your best album yet.

“I’m going to guess that you’re texting you driver,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you sink into the seat, phone covering your face. 

“Maybe. Mila, he’s so perfect. He’s very . . . sweet, but at the same time he’s sharp. He’s a bit like my every morning drink.” 

Mila sent you a warm smile. “Speaking of morning drinks, do you still want your espresso sent to your room at the normal time, or do you want to sleep in?” 

Your brows furrowed, mind running quickly. You opened your notes app and began typing. 

“Espresso.”

A few months passed with you and Max growing closer and closer. People online could definitely tell that the Dutchman was more smiley, but no one knew why. They could only speculate that he was in a relationship, but he hadn’t really been anywhere in the past few months that could signify a blooming relationship. 

You were up writing late when your phone buzzed, the familiar pattern letting you know that a certain blond was calling you. Your eyebrows pinched as you noticed the time. You pressed the green button before saying hello. 

“Hi schatje,” the familiar pet-name flooding the room. 

“Why are you up so late? Don’t you have a race tomorrow morning?” 

Although you were in two different countries, you and Max miraculously were in the same time zones, meaning if you were up late so was he. 

“We have the sim race this weekend.” 

“Maaxxx.” 

“Y/nnnnn, I’ve done it before. And plus, you’re also up.” 

You nibbled on your lip. “I couldn’t sleep. Lyrics are just racing around my brain.” 

“That or you had your espresso too late again.” 

You smirked as your eyes landed on the empty espresso mug on the bedside table. 

“I’m taking the silence as ‘yes Max. I had an espresso too late.’” 

Max’s favorite sound, your laugh, sounded through his phone that was resting on his simulator. The two of you had some weird humor, but you never failed to make Max laugh and neither did he. 

The sound of him shifting the gears was better than any white noise machine could be. Max tried his best to focus on his race, but the scratching of your pencil and your sporadic sighs kept him a bit distracted. 

“Would you be fine if I put a hint in my song? I like having you all to myself, but I want people to know that you make me happy.” 

Max almost virtually crashed. You never ceased to amaze him. 

“That’s fine with me liefling. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

y/nl/n has posted

liked by gracieadams, y/nvideo, maxverstappen1, and 3,405,295 others y/nl/n ☕️ espresso is now yours :) let's call it the bop of the summer

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maxxy/n ayo max, why are you here so early 🤨

f1xy/n what the hell is a polar bear doing in Arlington texas

y/n.nation when she says bop of the summer, it's the bop of the summer

maxverstappen1 ☕️

y/nl/n ☕️

queeny/n what the heck is this supposed to mean?????

user204502 this song has been on repeat

Max hadn’t know when you were going to release the song, he just knew that you were. He hadn’t even realized that it was out to the public until Charles had mentioned something. 

“Y/n’s new song is great, non? Didn’t know that you two were soft launching, but I’m happy for you two.” 

Max never ran faster than he did to get to his driver’s room to listen to it. He never thought that you’d ever write a song about him, but here it was. The title was catchy too. 

Thankfully, you were waiting for him when he got back to Monaco. The first thing he did was lean down to kiss your lips. You could never get over the feeling of his lips against yours. The broadness of his shoulders made you feel safe as he caged you in between himself and the door. 

His large hands fit perfectly against your hips as he brushed his face against your neck. Your hands gripped his shirt that was thankfully not a Red Bull polo. 

“I take it you liked the song?” you managed to get out, breathless against him. A hum vibrated against your neck, letting you know that he was pleased. 

He finally gave you a bit of space once he kissed you on his way back up. 

“Espresso?”

You giggled, head digging into his chest. “I had one almost 15 minutes ago.” 

“Of course you did.” 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you just stood in the walkway to his house. The place finally looked like someone was actually living in it, and not looking like an Ikea display. 

Little bits of Max were visible everywhere, now that he didn’t have to hide his stuff away in his little mancave. His suit was now on display with pictures of his various wins decorating the walls. But in between all the racing were bits of you left behind. Pictures of your stages filled in the gaps. 

But Max’s favorite bit was the circle stain of dark espresso by your side of his bed. 

“Come with me to Silverstone and later to Zandvoort.” 

You looked up at him, still not getting over the foot in height difference. Your neck had to crane for you to look him in the eyes. 

“Think about it,” Max continued. “You’re taking a small break from your tours when Silverstone happens. And then Zandvoort is the Sunday before the Netherlands concert.” 

You couldn’t say anything but yes. 

Lando was surprised to see your hand held tightly in Max’s. The last thing he knew is that you and him were texting, but he didn’t know if it went any farther than that. The Briton was happy to learn that you had been behind the Dutchman’s wide smiles between races. 

He thought you looked absolutely tiny next to Max, even in your usual heels. Lando did notice that you weren’t visible in the garage during the practices and even the race on Sunday. When it was him, Max, and Charles on the podium, he took his chances to ask. 

“Where’s your superstar?” 

Max visible brightened at the mention of you. “We’re not public yet. I think we like the privacy a bit too much.” 

Lando looked confused. “But the song?” 

He watched as Max leaned back with a laugh. “Mate, everyone thinks she’s in a relationship with either you or Sebastian of all people.” 

“Why would it be Seb?” Charles piped up, finally joining the conversation. 

“Because she sings something about calling me a honey bee. People are trying to connect that with the racing lyric and Seb’s bee keeping skills.” 

The photographers thought that they were getting good pictures of the three enjoying the post-race celebrations as they caught giant smiles and laughs. They probably couldn’t even imagine the conversation that was going on. 

It wasn’t until Zandvoort that people started to catch glimpses of you in the paddock. You smiled widely as you stepped through the turnstile, hand clasped in Max’s. Cameras were clicking wildly, but you knew how to ignore them. 

You were here for Max and Max only. 

You had wanted to find something orange to wear, but the weather was a bit rainy and cold. Max had convinced you to wear something warm, much to your chagrin. When you had pouted earlier in the hotel room, he just leaned down and kissed your lips. 

“Hmmmm, espresso. My favorite.” 

You had rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because you were up late again. I was able to get some more work done though.” 

“Must have gotten some from you then.” 

The Red Bull driver was able to secure his home race win, putting him just behind Charles in the standings. The Ferrari driver had been driving like a madman all season, and Max had just now been able to catch up to him. However, you knew how scared he was of losing his champion title. 

But, this year, he had you to be his support. Whether he won or lost, you’d still be there. Unlike Kelly, you didn’t push your way into his life. You let him choose you when he wanted. There was no constant grabbing at his arms to pull him away from his crew. 

When Max finally made his way to you, he just brought you in close. He wouldn’t have been able to kiss you with his helmet on anyway. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see tears in your eyes. His face must have had confusion written all over it as you shook your head. 

“Happy tears. I’m so proud of you.” 

The validation he got from you meant so much more than any he ever received. As Max looked down at you from the top step of the podium, you looked up at him like he hung the sun. The Dutchman would never fall tired of your gaze. 

y/nl/n has posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mothery/n, verstopen33, and 4,204,938 others y/nl/n oh, he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger

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mothery/n WAS NOT EXPECTING THE HARD LAUNCH WHAT

f1xy/n thank you y/n for feeding us with boyfriend max material

verstappen33max I don't think I've seen him so smiley

maxverstappen1 💙 schatje

y/nl/n 💗 my love

y/nisqueen awwww I love them your honor

landonorris rue, when was this? 🤨

charles_leclerc me as well 😊

maxverstappen1 I think since February??

landonorris SINCE FEBRUARY???

charles_leclerc congrats!!

y/nl/n thank you charlieeeee

y/nvideo this is now my otp for the rest of my life 🥺

A week later, it was Max’s turn to stare at you the way that you stared at him. The little pink number that you were wearing was turning Max’s thoughts into something more that just hugs and kisses. But, he put those away (maybe for later) and just continued to enjoy the set that you had chosen. 

He couldn’t believe that he was back in the same place that he had been eight months ago. But, there he was, still as starstruck as he had been. He loved to see you skip around, skirt still flinging around and heels still adorning your feet. 

As the evening was closing, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the hotel to love on you, even more than he had already been doing. He wished time could speed up just a bit because he knew you were it for him. 

There was a before you, a during you, and he never wanted there to be an after you. 

He, along with the rest of the crowd and fellow drivers, got confused when you didn’t leave the stage after the last song. But, as slow piano music left the giant speakers, Max immediately knew what was happening. 

In the past couple of months, you had been holed up in your studio, really only seeing Max whenever he dropped off lunch or when you came back to his house. And many times, he was surprised to see Charles there as well, dressed in comfy clothes and glasses on his face. 

Piano sheet music always covered every inch of studio space when the Monegasque showed up, meaning that you were in the middle of creating a masterpiece. And, Max got to listen to multiple different melodies that the two of you put together. However, he wasn’t allowed to listen to any of the final demos which eventually got turned into songs. 

Tears pricked his eyes when he heard you explain yourself to the crowd. You had turned a bit to face Max as you talked. Your message for him more than the crowd. 

Your smile shined in the bright spotlights. 

“This next song is one that I wrote for a very special person in my life. You all know who it is so I won’t embarrass him.” 

Max could never be embarrassed by you. 

“I call it Lover, because that is what he is to me. My one and only love. Max, my espresso, I love you dearly.” 

And so dearly, he loved you too. 

y/nl/n has posted

liked by dior, maxverstappen1, y/nfan, and 4,205,893 others y/nl/n a song for my lover? how about an album 💖

lover is now yours on all streaming platforms

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y/nfan I THINK I BEAT MAX TO THE LIKES

y/nfan never mind...

y/n.nation the new song and now new album, max please keep keeping her happy

charles_leclerc glad to be a part of the album y/n!

y/nl/n thank you Charles! merci beaucoup 🫶

maxverstappen1 my lover 💖

y/nl/n my one and only 💙

landonorris ok, when do I get an album??

y/nl/n I can set you up with one of my friends?

ynsmax and we all say "thank you max!"

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[kindestofkings]

espresso

lando norris x reader

dets: an international pop star and a f1 driver could never be secretly dating right? right?

authors note: this is kinda chaotic but its been still in my drafts since that damn espresso song came out, how is it so good?

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

yourusername

liked by ynfan1 and others

yourusername me laughing at all y'all trying to figure out who my hot songs are about LOOLLLLLL you'll know when I want you to know MWAH xx

melbourne tonight :)))

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ynfan1 you are so unhinged I LOVE

charli_xcx just tell them its me !

yourusername you're right sorry wifey xx

ynfan2 wait are they still around??

ynfanupdates wait whats happening in melbourne tonight ???

ynfan3 she's so secretive, I didn't even know she was dating anyone

landonorris

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landonorris tralia mate

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danielricciardo looking fresh mate

landonorris thanks babe xx f1fan1 landos longest relationship right here f1fan2 bahahah for real man is chronically single

oscarpiastri 👍👍

f1fan1 best of luck this weekend !

yourusername just posted to their close friends!

[caption: baby just had a great weekend at the office <3]

replies:

maxfewtrell disgustingly sweet

↳ jealousy is a disease, better get checked out xx

alexalbon ugh you two make me sick

↳ oh yeah and yourself and lily aren't worse 😐

yourusername

liked by martingarrix and others

yourusername missing tour hours, should we do it again??

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ynfan1 PLEASE COME BACK

oliviarodrigo you never rest queen

yourusername lol duty calls ynfan1 huh? hasn't she been off for ages ? ynfan3 singers can have other responsibilities you do know that right

ynfan2 I just want to know who you're dating..

ynfanupdates

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ynfanupdates yourusername out in monaco tonight !

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ynfan1 huh wonder what has her in monaco? she's there alot recently

ynfan2 looooveee the orange

landofan1

liked by landoupdates and others

landofan1 firstly tell how is a man so hot?? also look at how much he's vibing to yourusername's feather remix??

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landofan1 I could take him (not in a fight)

ynfan1 he is just like me fr

f1fan1 no WAY whats he doing playing yn? 👀

ynfan1 I mean she is one of the biggest pop singers in the world rn f1fan1 orrrrrrrr ynfan2 haha you wish

yourusername oooh whos he ?

landofan1 bahaahahha girl, you are everything I want my popstars to be

yourusername

liked by chapellroan and others

yourusername pookie is away (again) so heres some pics of me looking hot for pookie, and pookie only <3

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ynfan1 what boyfriend would ever leave you??

yourusername I know right?? poor me !

chapellroan need a sub ?

yourusername I don't know what you're abbreviating but yes. yes please.

reneerapp god DAMN

(liked by yourusername)

f1fan1 hmmmmmmhmmm away? and theres a grand prix this weekend

lando.jpg

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lando.jpg returning the favour x Race weekend was gud

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landofan1 people died.

oscarpiastri such a poser

lando.jpg my lady loves it 🤷 landofan1 IS HE IN A RELATIONSHIP landofan2 since when wtf

f1fan1 I don't even care how delusional I am, he'd be so hot for yourusername

ynfan1 Ikr but they don't even follow each other :((

yourusername just posted to their story!

[caption: pookie has returned <3]

replies:

landonorris I don't know how I feel about pookie...

↳ but POOKIE I love it (and you)

↳ landonorris ugh okay fine (love you too)

charli_xcx this soft launch is mean, and I know who it is

↳ hehehhe lol its SO fun tho

f1fan1 is that papaya ?

yourusername just followed landonorris!

landonorris just followed yourusername!

yourusername

liked by landonorris

yourusername need a pick me up ?

Espresso 4/11 @ 8pm ET,

Music Video 4/12 @ 10:00am ET

view all other comments

ynfan1 woooo queen is back

ynfan2 LOVE the vibe of this

landofan1 is that the JOLLY ???

landofan2 do we think lando is in the video?? cause thats defo him!

landonorris uber rating ?

yourusername 4 stars out of 5 ! missing star is because you kept making me laugh during filming landonorris always knew being so funny was a double edged sword. georgerussell sorry just confirming, do you think YOU are the funny one? ynfan1 what a random friendship, but so cute

f1fan1 finally followed each other, my delusions don't feel so crazy

landofan1 I would loveee if they became friends

landonorris just added to their close friends!

[caption: we just hard launched via music video and people are thinking FRIEnDshIP ?]

replies:

yourusername babyyyy they're so stupid

↳ told you it's crazy you're dating me..

↳ yourusername UGH no enough of that

danielricardio the landonorizz lore is to deep I'm afraid..

lilyme cons of dating a hottie

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername guys this is my POOKIE! I just hardlaunched my muse, y'all should be blessed !

(last pic is not mine but like look at how he looks at me teehee...)

tagged: landonorris

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landonorris love of my life fuck

ynfan1 damn y'all are in love love aren't you

fan1 this is crazy to me lando and THE pop it girl??

yourusername me and THE lando norris who is a professional hottie and my pookie xx landofan1 ugh im obsessed with you two

ynfan1 you're telling me you've been dating another celebrity for at least 3 years and we've seen ZERO pap pics?

f1fan1 for real tho we would've seen her at a grand prix, theres thousands of cameras landofan1 yeah seems suss yourusername ugh guys !!! why are you making me spell everything out for you landonorris time to cook darling

mclaren finally the parents are insta official

yourusername get hyped to see me at a gp wigless xxx

ynfan1 you wear wigs??

yourusername have you worn wigs?? landonorris will you wear wigs??? ynfan1 omfg I get it now

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris meet my three year pr relationship x

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername yes sorry guys the warming climate is all our fault !! just so fucking hot we cant help it eek

oscarpiastri you two are so unbearable already please go back to being a secret landonorris after 3 years of norizz jokes, I thinkkkk no !

landofan1 THREE yEaRs ???

mclaren wearing papaya off season? oh shes a keeper

ynfan1 heheh admin gets it

danielricciardo rip norizz it was fun while it lasted..

landonorris fun for WHO??

[finished]

hehe im working lateeee, cause I procrastinated doing assignments all day xx

[youreverydayfangirl]

I DONT WANNA LIVE FOREVER

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where the public begins to scrutinize to an unbearable point, threats are made and a specific popstar disappears

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: hey guys heres the second part also as a btw i think the next parts will prolly be longer cause i just wanted to lay the gournd work i think i might end up switching povs between socials and real life

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate i actually cant deal with this anymore its all bullshit and no one even believes me i cant defend myself im just so done

thatoneartgirlalex sweetie 😭😭

keekslikestospammmm im coming over now

leosfather do you want me to 'accidently' crash into him

-> y/nsprivate thats prolly not gonna help but it would be funny

livbereallydumb im actually gonna throw hands

itssabrinaaa give me a call if you need anything

f1gossip has posted

liked by 195, 203 users

f1gossip New WAG alert?! Lando Norris and Y/n L/n ex friend, exbsf have been spotted out and about recently. This comes after the shocking reveal of L/ns infedelity and Lando and hers public break up 2 months ago. Could this be a new WAG in the making???

user1 I KNEW IT IM SO HAPPY

user2 AHH THEIR SO CUTE

user3 he deserved way better than y/n just saying 🤷‍♀️

-> user4 agreed

user5 i think we all knew this was coming

user6 kinda fishy that she immedietly gets with him after his and y/ns breakup

-> user7 stfu it wasn't "immedietly" and its public knowledge she cheated theirs literal proof

user8 GUYS EXBSF JUST POSTED OMFG

exbsf has posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 950, 129 others

exbsf summer sun with my favourite people

user1 oh she knows what shes doing

user2 genuinly obsessed with her

user3 oh she KNOWS what shes doing

exfriend OMG STUNNING IM IN LOVE

-> exbsf 😘😘

francisca.cgomes absolutely not

this comment has been deleted

f1gossip has posted

liked by exbsf and 294, 591 others

f1gossip SPOTTED! Y/n L/n for the first time in months in a very public meltdown with friends francisca.cgomes and alexandrasaintmleux

user1 tagging them is so messy 😭

user2 exbsf liking this is so messy

user3 this is such an invasion of privacy

francisca.cgomes this is actually something insane to post

alexandrasaintmleux i normally stay quiet but this is genuinely disgusting

alexandrasaintmleux delete this

user4 Alex and Kika defending her in the comments?

-> user5 yeah cause they know the whole truth and whose actually in the wrong

-> user6 y/n this you?

user7 DESERVED SHES SUCH A SNAKE OMG

user8 🐍🐍🐍

-> user9 🐍🐍🐍

-> user10 🐍🐍🐍

-> user11 🐍🐍🐍

-> user12 🐍🐍🐍

-> user13 🐍🐍🐍

this post has been deleted by author

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

Hi guys hers part to for you ;)

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

taglist:

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@pippyth3hippy

@scorpiomindfuck

@syddddddddddddd

@paigem00

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lilsiz

@chelle1306

@sired4urmama

@stinkyjax

@kiyomisan

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@exotic-iris13

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@nitiii

[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙bows before bros | LN4 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x actress!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: sooo super fluffy!!

summary: in which a trail of bows leads to everyone's new fav grid couple

a/n: feel like i havent written for lando in ages so here we are!!

request!!!: I’d like to request an au for lando where y/n’s an actress who’s getting recognized more and more, she’s really humble and sweet but pretty similar to lando as a goofy and funny girly(idk why but I picture Sabrina carpenter vibes) 🎀 if u could add a little scene of some of the f1 drivers and wags reacting to their relationship/talking to the media how they’ve never seen lando so happy. Just a sappy and goofy couple living life (manifesting✨🕯️)

fc: sabrina carpenter

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by reneerapp, sydney_sweeney, and 301,283 others

yourusername sooo where else can i put bows? 🎀

view all 6,918 comments

user1 omg the bunny is so cute im going to do that

user2 i dont wear bows in a coquette way i wear bows in an y/n y/l/n way

liked by yourusername

user3 i love seeing y/n in her movies so srs then going on her ig & it's jus this

reneerapp put them on your hand soap 🥺

yourusername you make jokes but i really will do that

user4 LOL as u should y/n!!!

user5 oh i love her

sydney_sweeney this is so real of you!!

yourusername i knew you'd get it

sydney_sweeney bows before bros ‼️

yourusername louder 🗣️

landonorris

liked by sydney_sweeney, danielricciardo, and 819,055 others

landonorris you got my heart loud.

view all 11,193 comments

user6 okay simp lando?

user7 HUH????

user8 looking a LOT like a soft launch i cant lie to u

user9 thts what i was thinking.....

user10 the bows...... anyone one else thinking what im thinking?

user11 DONT EVEN SAY IT

user12 VERY y/n y/l/n coded

user13 y/n was here vibes

oscarpiastri simp simp simp

landonorris shutup pastry boy

yourusername posted a story

liked by sydney_sweeney, daisyedgarjones, and 89,541 others

user14 so cute ily y/n

user15 my spidey senses are tingling

user16 is this a hint that ur dating lando norris.

user17 feels very very targeted miss y/n

user18 our bow queen 🙇‍♀️

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 159,701 others

user22 omg y/n y/l/n is ur gf fr

user23 never thought i'd see the day lando norris pulled

user24 THE BOW AND THE MCLAREN HOODIE AHHH

user25 the most y/n thing i've ever seen

danielricciardo she's made you soft

landonorris she definitely hasnt i'll tell you that much

danielricciardo right. not what i meant but great to know thank you so much

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 661,328 others

yourusername feeling orange 🍊

view all 16,754 comments

user26 oh my god

user27 is this the hard launch

mclaren your best look yet, y/n!

yourusername 🤭 feel very honoured

user28 next we want orange bows

liked by yourusername

sydney_sweeney sports 🤢 but make it girly 🎀

yourusername me with everything

landonorris it's papaya y/n we've been over this

yourusername there isnt a papaya emoji ✨🎀💕🫶🍊

user29 omg they're first public interaction...?

user30 they're in love i called it.

interviews ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 157,814 others

user36 omg lol

user37 THAT'S Y/N'S CAT

user38 lol at ur response to ur friends saying ur obsessed with a girl is to post her cat on ur story with bows on

sydney_sweeney one of us now

landonorris this feels like a cult

user39 the coquettification of lando norris

user40 the y/nification of lando norris

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,091,727 others

landonorris my response to everyone talking about me recently is you would be the same if you bagged a girl like mine

tagged: yourusername

view all 22,183 comments

user41 A GIRL LIKE MINEEEEE

user42 how did he do it

lilymhe congratulations 🥂

carlossainz55 yippee!!

oscarpiastri we are all beyond proud of you lando

danielricciardo good for you bro

charles_leclerc happy for you

mclaren our fav girl!!

yourusername 🤭🧡

user43 all the celebrations in the comments 💀

user44 they had no faith in him fr

yourusername blushing and giggling at this!!! i love my lil lando!!!!!

landonorris you what?

yourusername i wont be taking questions at this time

landonorris you love me so bad

landonorris i love you so bad

THE END 🧡