#— lister hadn't interrupted it

[charliespringverse]

... it's just hit me that lister describes the bathroom kiss as assault and even when jimmy reassures him that he doesn't see it that way and doesn't have a problem with it, lister refuses to accept that it was anything other than objectively assault

while two days earlier jimmy insisted that a 32-yr-old having sex with lister at age 16 was wrong, despite lister not seeing it that way and not having a problem with it

does that mean that lister took that conversation on board but only as far as "the person on the receiving end of an advance can't accurately assess whether or not it was wrong" and is now equating himself to the woman that took advantage of him . because i will weep

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[lewisdiary]

Amber Lounge

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

WARNING: 18+, NSFW, explicit, alcohol, drugs, unprotected sex.

Word count: 3,600+

What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a club all by herself?

Another party, this time in Monaco. Your glass, filled with what seemed like a very expensive gin, vibrated to the the loud music playing in the club.

Let loose. You thought to yourself slightly lowering your body-con black dress and searching for familiar faces.

You looked around the VIP party you had been invited to. Ever since your dad's business put him on the "Forbes Richest" list your reputation had skyrocketed along with it. You were an A-lister yourself at this point, everyone longed for your appearance at their events, and as if your life depended on it, you attended. Your social media and events presence had helped you befriend the hottest models and richest rappers in the game and you quite enjoyed the lavish lifestyle.

You and your dad had flown down for the Monaco GP weekend, courtesy of the team principal of the most popular F1 team, Toto Wolff. Surprisingly, it was your first Grand Prix, and probably your last. The hospitality was, as usual, amazing but you found watching cars go around in circles slightly boring.

You took a rather large sip of your gin and started to tune into the beat, your body processing the large quantities of alcohol you had decided to ingest.

Because you hadn't been invited to the Grand Prix by a driver in particular and had failed to engage with any during the "boring" weekend, you found yourself attending the party and having to fit in all by yourself. Making your way through the club you encountered a few drivers, whom you recognised and recognised you, and their respective guests. You knew you weren't an easy face to forget, so it didn't take long before a few people started commenting about your presence.

Making yourself comfortable around the younger squad of drivers, your body swayed to the loud music that hit your ears. Your eyes shut as you engaged with the environment, allowing the melodies and strong base to sway you in.

"You're a Mercedes guest, aren't you?" A familiar voice rang through. Russell. Your eyes opened to look at the briton who stood very close to your ear, making sure his words were getting to you just fine. You nodded quickly, downing your drink before replying to him "Well, my dad is. I just tagged along"

His lips turned into a small smile as he took a good glance at you, leaning closer again he chatted a bit more; "and what did you think of it?"

"Not my vibe" You shrugged jokingly. "This though, is!" You put your empty glass down in a nearby table and pulled George into what seemed like a circle of people dancing, as In Da Club by 50 Cent started playing.

You both started dancing to the song, George's friends joined, and in no time you set yourself in the party ambient, drenching yourself in alcohol as more bottles were brought in at the request of Russell, Latifi, and a few other younger drivers you hadn't gotten your way around.

0 To 100 / The Catch up - by Drake came through the speaker.

This DJ knew his set you thought, before excusing yourself from the crowd that had embraced you. Feeling the need for a switch of environment you made your way to the bar. On your way, you drunkly greeted a few familiar faces, Bella Hadid and what looked like some actors who had come down for the Grand Prix.

Sitting on an empty stool at one of the bars in the Amber Lounge you asked the bartender for a glass of your favourite, gin. Your head nodded to the beat, it pounded hard. You knew you were more than tipsy at that point, but there was no sign of slowing down.

"Ayo! Bring us a bottle of your most expensive Prosecco!" You heard a voice yell through a line of people standing at the bar. A familiar voice.

His voice sang along to the lyrics, you were tempted to turn around to check who was yelling right behind your ear but your motion to turn was interrupted by the glass of gin you had requested being brought to you.

As you fiddled with the purse that hung around your shoulder, looking for your card, the familiar voice spoke again: "I've got that for you. On my tab, Mikey!" This time much closer to you.

You turned to your left, wanting to finally put a face to the voice your alcohol-filled brain didn't seem to recognise. Looking at the 5'9 figure standing next to you, it hit you that: you had failed to engage with any driver during the Grand Prix except for one.

It was more than obvious that you weren't going to be at the Mercedes garage and not meet their prominent stars. Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. It was Qualifying day and after an amazing performance from both drivers, Toto, at the request of your dad had introduced you to his prodigies. You had gotten the chance to meet the drivers and congratulate them both for their front-row quali positions.

Bottas was the quiet one, after meeting you and your dad he excused himself to his driver room. Lewis was more of a personality, he knew your dad from reading about him and their conversation seemed to flow from F1 to business to possible future lunch meetings. He glanced at you from time to time, the conversation didn't interest you but he somewhat did.

You knew Lewis was quite the party boy and a ladies man, it suited his champion attitude, so seeing him at the club did not surprise you at all. He had won the Grand Prix you remembered, your mind doing a little backflip to being at the back of the garage and giving him a quick hug after your dad had burst into "here's the man of the evening" compliments.

Your altered system forced you to bite your lip at the thought of Lewis Hamilton standing in front of you.

"Hey, it's you!" His eyes widened at the realisation, his breath smelled like nothing but expensive alcohol. He was drunk as a skunk, and to your liking, he looked extremely hot.

You widened your eyes jokingly, following his cue. "It is I!" you laughed slightly, trying to mock his accent.

"I met you on Saturday, no? Your dad is Toto's friend. What's your name again?" He grabbed the Prosecco bottle that had been handed to him and moved an inch closer to you.

"Yep, that's my dad! Y/N!" you yelled through the gap left between the two of you.

"And what's a beautiful girl like you doing in the club all by herself?" He asked before singing to a few lyrics of the song that currently burst through the speakers that were placed at the bar.

"Enjoying herself." You grabbed your glass and, nodding at him as a thank you for the drink, you stepped down the stool and made your way to the dance-floor. Nervously nibbling on your bottom lip at your choice of words you wondered if a little mystery was enough to keep Lewis interested.

Your hips moved at the sound of Ginza by J Balvin and almost immediately, you felt a body swaying along with yours. Him.

Lewis took a sip of the Prosecco bottle he was meant to take back to his group of friends as his own hips fell in somewhat of a sync with yours, his free hand grabbing your left thigh pulling you closer to his body. His motion felt like a cue for you to bend slightly and begin to grind on the "man of the evening", he deserved a little fun after the hard-work he put out on the track.

Eyes started turning to you two, as your bodies got carried away by the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. You shrugged out the thought of being watched. If Lewis was comfortable, you were too.

"Y yo hoy estoy aquí imaginando. Sexy baila y me deja con las ganas" Lewis sang along to J Balvin but he sang it so close to your ear, he knew it was meant just for you to listen. His raspy voice sent chills down your spine, you didn't know what the words meant but he made them sound sexy and it empowered you. You chewed on your bottom lip as the DJ switched songs and moving away from him you sipped on your gin, cheering at the former drivers that had put you in the mood to party, who shot you back just as happy glances.

"Come to my table! Let's have some fun!" Lewis' drunk voice echoed through the pounds of your head. He was quick to grab your arm and pull you through the crowd to a more secluded area.

"Y/N everyone!!" He yelled once you approached a group of what looked like more mature and older people. Everyone turned their heads at the two of you and cheered loudly at Lewis' introduction of you, almost as if they were celebrating you tonight.

Daniel Ricciardo. Winnie Harlow. Neymar Jr were some of the faces you were able to recognise at first glance, everyone seemed as slapped as you, some of the girls were high as kites twerking on anything they could put their asses to. Now this was more your vibe.

As the night went on; more drinks came, you danced and enjoyed yourself. Sexual tension between you and Lewis had become hard to ignore and the amount of alcohol in your body had you craving him... all over you.

It's now or never you thought to yourself.

Downing your, God knows what number, cup you looked at Lewis who found himself having fun with his mates, his smile widely spread across is face, revealing his perfectly sharpened canine teeth.

If anything, we blame it on the alcohol.

You mentally thanked the Dj as Wild Thoughts by DJ Khaled started playing. Lewis' eyes darkened as he noticed you approaching him. Your dress hugged your body perfectly, making your figure hard to look away from. In a blink of an eye you had found your groins against one another's grinding on each other to the beat.

As the song went on, Lewis spun you around, having you against him drove him crazy. His hips thrusted your back, his fingers digging the skin on your thigh. He licked his lips at the thought of you, and almost as if he had been waiting for this moment the whole night, his lips met your bare shoulder.

Without ungluing his figure to yours, his tongue slowly traced your neck, sending chills down your spine. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He mumbled in between kisses on your bare skin. He didn't have to win you over with compliments, he already had you.

You could feel death glares from Lewis' female guests because of the moment you and the world champion were sharing. You used the uncomfortable stares as your cue to leave, turning to Lewis for the first time in what seemed like a long night, you stared into his - slightly droopy from the alcohol - brown eyes. Your arms automatically swung to his neck, he had yet another bottle in his hand but did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I don't think your friends are enjoying this little show we're putting on" You mumbled, signalling to the ladies who stood in the corner. Your eyes went from staring into his to looking at his lips, your breathing had become intense as you felt Lewis's body awfully close to yours, his member slowly caressing your upper thigh. He licked his lips, noticing how badly you stared. At that point of the night neither of you could contain how much you craved one another.

"They don't have to watch" Lewis whispered, shooting a quick glance at the models who seemed rather upset with his lack of attention on them; back to you, before grabbing your arm and pulling you through a back door that was close to the VIP area you were in, he mumbled: "I know a place".

You found yourself stumbling through the front entrance of a rather fancy building. Lewis lived conveniently close to the Amber Lounge, and in no time, his body guards had escorted the two of you to the penthouse.

Thanking his driver, you made your way into the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut close, Lewis had you pinned against the back wall. His eyes darkened again, his breathing hard over your lips.

Even drunk as a skunk, he looked and smelled amazing.

You watched him bite his lip as he leaned closer, making you crave his lips on yours even more.

It felt like heaven. When Lewis finally crashed his lips on to yours, his body weight causing you to lean further against the wall... it felt like heaven.

You groaned as the kiss didn't last as much as you wished to, the ding from the elevator interrupting it.

You were given no time to take in the surroundings of Lewis' perky home. He placed his arms on your hips and you automatically straddled him, the heat was back like it had never left, your lips were on his yet again. He kissed you so passionately you thought he was compensating from not doing it earlier. He knew his way through his home, and as your tongues met, he quickly found his way through his living room to his astounding suite.

Lewis dropped you on his bed, his eyes filled with lust and hunger. Behind him, the view of Monaco’s nightlife and beach shone through his large windows, the moonlight setting the perfect ambiance for what seemed like an exciting night for the both of you.

Your thoughts were distracted by Lewis’s touch. He had quickly removed his shirt and tossed it aside, his fingers now rested on top of your wet panties, his thumb caressing your clit. His body hoovered over yours, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, allowing your body to feel Lewis’ movements on your area.

“Look at me” He demanded, his voice as deep as you’d ever hear it. “You’re so wet” He mumbled once your eyes obediently met his. Starving for him inside of you, you pulled your dress up your waist not once breaking eye contact, which caused Lewis to smirk. He attacked your neck, sucking and nibbling on your bare skin, his fingers slid your panties to the side, and with a small bite to your neck he inserted two fingers into you. You gasped at his sudden movement and your walls clenched in pleasure.

“Fuck!” Lewis muttered as he felt your juices coating his fingers. As instinct your knees bent, allowing Lewis to get a better grip of your inside walls. He picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. As your moans started getting louder, you feared Lewis had neighbours so you instantly bit your lip trying to contain your pleasure-filled screams.

“L-Lewis” you stumbled on your words, he knew just how deep to thrust and how much to curl his fingers. You longed for him inside you, your fingernails digging his tattooed back and your head titled back.

“Yes, baby?” He was enjoying watching you squirm in pleasure, his member hardening at the sound of your voice in his room.

"Don't make me wait" you pleaded, not being able to contain your hormones any longer. You wanted him inside you: “I want you. I want you to cum with me”

As if your wish was his command, Lewis’ drunk figure moved his hand away, he stood in front of the bed, and you took the moment to remove your dress, revealing your perfectly shaped and tanned body. Lewis, on his turn dropped his jeans. Both of you stood in awe of one another for awhile, hunger rising. He observed your breasts, and you engulfed the length of his now erect shaft.

You slowly removed your panties and dangled it in front of him, teasing the man that was going to eat you alive, the room smelled like expensive cologne and Prosecco. Lewis jaw hardened, his tattoos made his muscles more prominent... You just wanted to dig your fingernails on his biceps at that stance. He grabbed the panties off your hand and threw them to the side along with your dress and swiftly made his way on top of you. Cupping your breast with one hand, his thumb played with your nipple whilst the other filled his mouth. You lowered your hand and began to stroke Lewis’ cock; as soft and deep moans leaving his throat, your spine shivered.

“I want you so bad” You whispered, placing Lewis right at your entrance, the tip of him rubbing against your wet and now throbbing clit.

“How bad, baby?” He asked, pecking your lips. With his voice in a demanding whisper, you were quick to realise how much of a tease Lewis was, he enjoyed making his victims beg for him. He knew how good he was.

“So… so bad” You moaned into his lips. Just as much as Lewis, you knew what you wanted and you too knew how good you were. Not wanting to waste another second you took charge, placing his shaft at your entrance you helped him penetrate you. Lewis broke the kiss he had engaged in with you, a loud moan leaving his mouth once he felt how tight you were.

It took you a second to adjust to Lewis’ length as he made his way in and out of you, although intoxicated, he noticed your slight discomfort: “Are you alright?” he questioned, his furry brows tightening.

“Shh… don’t stop” You reassured him. With your hand around his neck you brought his head down to yours, you had grown to love his soft lips around the flesh of your neck. At your call, Lewis lowered his weight on to you and steadily picked up the pace. Every thrust brought you closer to an orgasm, his cock rubbing on your perfect spot.

You clenched your walls, digging your nails through his tattooed back. “Fuuuck!” You heard Lewis scream in absolute pleasure at the tightness around him. Lewis’ thrusts became deeper and faster, his forehead had grown sweaty, the room steamy. As he picked up his pace, all you could hear was small grunts from his perfectly sound voice and the clapping of his thighs against yours.

“I’m gonna cum” He moaned through shortened breaths. His warning brought you to your dominance senses. The thought of having Sir Lewis Hamilton begging you to cum extolled your ego. Without thinking twice you shifted your weight to the side, motioning what was well understood by Lewis. It was your turn to be on top.

Lewis, at the realisation that he was sleeping with a woman who knew what she wanted, eagerly obeyed and placed himself closer to the headboard of his king sized bed, not minding that you had interrupted his almost-orgasm.

Feeling good about impressing the seven-time world champion you slowly crawled up to the man that looked at you so hungrily, lust in his eyes only becoming more and more visible. His jaw clenched again as you straddled his waist, his now, thanks to you, cream-full cock entering your threshold again. Another loud moan, this time from the both of you. You bent over slightly, placing your hands on Lewis’ shoulders for support as you started bouncing on him.

“Just like that baby” He sang to you, one hand was tightly wrapped around your neck, and the other slapped your ass as hard as he could bring himself to. It drove you crazy, it made you want more of him in you.

Your breathing had gotten harder and your forehead had met his. “I want you to cum for me” You demanded. Lewis knew he was close to his finish line, but wanted you to finish with him. As you seemed to enjoy, he kept his veiny and robust hand around your neck, giving it light squeezes every time he felt you really deep.

His free hand moved to your clit and you shot your head back in utter pleasure.

“Right there… Keep it right there” You begged, knowing exactly what was going to happen in the next thirty seconds. Lewis, in satisfaction, rubbed on your throbbing bud whilst his own hardened at every movement of yours. His teeth met his bottom lip and his eyes fell shut. You knew he was ready to release, but you weren’t going to let him off easy.

“Look at me” You called. Your ego growing with every sign of obedience from Lewis. His eyes watered a little, you knew you had him, and every thrust brought you both closer to your orgasm.

“Baby…” he whispered, his hand still in circular motions around your clit, his grip becoming weaker “Please” he begged, at no point breaking the eye contact you called for. Pleased with his submission, you mumbled: "Don't stop", and he understood the assignment. You both picked up the pace, his finger on your wet clit in circular motions and you on top of his cock, bouncing up and down.

Before you could say knife you felt your legs shaking, your whole body trembled as you released all your juices on Lewis' hand and cock, a loud moan leaving your throat, your voice echoing in the penthouse.

Sorry neighbours.

And with no time to digest the wonders that Lewis had done to your body, he quickly pushed you off him and you obeyed, his pulsating cock releasing right then and there, on his six-pack filled torso.

You were both breathing heavily, laying on your backs. The comfort of Lewis' bed took you in, your head pounding again from the intoxication, the large amount of alcohol still in your system. He chuckled slightly at the turn of events of that Monaco GP Sunday, his gaze never leaving his ceiling.

Eager and starving for more of you, Lewis found in his deep breaths strength to ask: "When do you leave?"

[lord-valery-mimes]

So..., Terrorform. Lister puts his hand on Rimmer's leg. What do you think would have happened next if Kryten hadn't interrupted?

I don’t have to think about it, @notalwaysweak already wrote that one. :-D

http://archiveofourown.org/works/343346