#Right now I just want to go back to sleep

[harrysfolklore]

casual - ln4

summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k

folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.

It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.

At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.

The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.

"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.

"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.

The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.

When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.

Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.

The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.

Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."

You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."

An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.

"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."

"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."

"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"

And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.

You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.

You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.

As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.

You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.

"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.

He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.

"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"

"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.

Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

"I miss you," he said simply.

You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.

"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.

"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."

Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.

"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"

You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"

Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.

"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.

When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.

"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.

"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."

Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.

Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.

"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."

You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."

"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."

"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."

"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."

It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.

"Room 507. Now. Please?"

You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:

"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"

His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”

You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."

"So you're coming?"

You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."

"There's my girl"

You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.

The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.

"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.

"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"

Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."

"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"

"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."

"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."

You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."

As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.

One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.

Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.

Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.

"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.

"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"

"That I needed ice. For thinking."

"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.

"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"

As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."

"Who says I can't do both?"

Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.

He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.

You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.

As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.

After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.

The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.

It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 

And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.

You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.

"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"

You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."

"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"

You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."

Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."

You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.

Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."

"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."

"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."

"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.

"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."

"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."

"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself."

Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.

He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.

His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.

"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.

“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."

“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"

"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.

"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."

"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.

"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."

Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."

You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”

As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.

"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"

He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.

"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"

You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"

Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."

You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.

"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."

You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.

"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."

You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"

"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"

You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.

You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."

You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.

"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."

You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.

But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.

In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.

"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.

"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.

"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"

You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."

You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."

You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."

Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."

The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.

Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.

You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.

As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.

"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.

"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."

For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.

Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.

The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.

"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.

You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."

"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."

"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"

His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"

"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"

"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."

"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."

The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.

"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."

Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.

"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.

"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"

Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.

"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.

A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.

You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.

You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.

As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.

This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.

As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.

You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.

"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.

You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.

"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."

Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.

The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.

The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."

You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.

"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.

"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."

"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"

You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.

As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.

And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.

"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"

You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?

Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.

"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.

Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."

You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.

"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.

When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.

"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.

It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.

As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.

So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.

Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.

Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.

As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.

You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.

You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.

Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.

As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.

For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.

Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.

"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"

You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.

Downstairs, the conversation continues.

"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."

Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."

"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"

"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."

"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"

"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."

"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."

They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.

"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."

You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."

"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."

"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.

"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."

"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.

"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.

Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.

After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.

"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"

"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."

"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."

"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"

"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."

Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"

He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."

You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.

You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.

You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.

But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?

But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.

The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.

Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.

As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.

"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.

They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"

You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"

As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.

He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.

"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"

You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?

Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."

But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."

You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."

You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."

As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.

You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.

You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."

He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."

"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."

"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."

You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.

"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."

"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.

"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.

With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.

The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.

The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.

The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.

To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.

You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.

It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"

You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.

"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.

Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"

You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."

"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"

"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."

"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."

Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"

"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."

"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."

"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."

"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."

There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.

"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."

"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."

"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."

Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."

You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."

"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"

"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."

You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."

Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.

You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.

The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.

When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.

Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.

As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.

But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.

In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.

As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?

Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.

Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.

"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.

Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.

Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."

"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."

Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"

"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."

"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.

"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."

With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.

When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.

You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?

As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.

"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."

Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"

Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."

You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.

As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.

Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."

Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.

"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”

"Lando, I-"

"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."

Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.

"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."

You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"

Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.

"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."

Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."

The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.

It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.

You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.

When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.

"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."

Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.

"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.

"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."

You nod, encouraging him to continue.

"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."

The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.

"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.

As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.

Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.

Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.

"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.

You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.

The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.

"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.

"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."

"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."

You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."

You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.

"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."

Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.

"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."

"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.

"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.

Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"

He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.

As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.

"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."

As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.

You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.

[a-lexia11]

Crossing the line (part 3)

Ingrid Engen x Putellas!reader

Alexia Putellas x sister!reader

Word count:3,7k

Warning: angst,ankle injury.

Part 1 , Part 2

“Qué coño está pasando aqui?!” (What the fuck is happening here)

Your eyes flew open at the familiar voice of your sister.

You and Ingrid sat up quickly, your hearts racing, as you both turned to face Alexia, standing at the end of the bed, looking absolutely livid. Her eyes burned with fury as they fixated on Ingrid.

“¿Alexia? ¿Qué haces aquí?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. You were still groggy from sleep, struggling to grasp the situation. (Alexia? What are you doing here?)

“No importa lo que estoy haciendo aquí!” she snapped, her voice dripping with anger. (It doesn't matter what I'm doing here!)

“¿Puedes decirme por qué coño Ingrid está acostada a tu lado?!” she yelled, her hand dramatically gesturing toward Ingrid, as though the sight of her was an offense in itself. (Can you tell me why the hell Ingrid is lying next to you?!)

“I—” you began, but before you could form a proper response, Alba burst into the room.

“Alexia, ¿por qué estás gritando?”Alba demanded, her face clouded with concern. (Alexia, why are you screaming?)

But when her gaze fell upon you and Ingrid, her eyes widened in shock. “Oh…” was all she managed, her mouth hanging open.

“What are you doing in bed with my little sister?!”Alexia barked, now switching to English, her tone even sharper as she directed her accusation straight at Ingrid.

“Alexia, por favor sal de mi habitación. Déjanos despertarnos bien y te explicaremos todo.” you told her, frustration building in your voice as her anger started rubbing off on you. (Alexia, please get out of my room. Let us wake up properly, and we’ll explain everything)

“¡No! ¡Quiero saber todo ahora mismo!” she shot back, the vein in her neck bulging with every word, her whole body tense and on the edge of exploding. (No! I want to know everything right now!)

You exchanged a desperate glance with Alba, silently begging her to step in. She nodded subtly before placing a calming hand on Alexia’s arm.

“Alexia, esperemos por ellos en la sala. Dales un minuto, se unirán a nosotros. Déjalos despertarse.” Alba said, trying to diffuse the situation, gently tugging her sister toward the door. (Alexia, let’s wait for them in the living room. Give them a minute, and they’ll join us. Let them wake up)

“Okay,” Alexia growled, shooting one last withering glare at both of you.

“¡Deja la puerta abierta y apúrate! ¡Tenéis cinco minutos!” she hissed before storming out of the room with Alba. (Leave the door open and hurry up! You’ve got five minutes)

As soon as they were gone, you exhaled heavily, collapsing back against the bed. “Mierda,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at Ingrid, who had stayed silent the entire time.(shit)

Ingrid reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay. We can finally tell them the truth,” she said, her voice soft but sad, trying to manage a comforting smile.

You nodded, though your stomach churned with anxiety.

“She’s really angry,” you said, your voice small as you looked down at your intertwined hands.

“I know, I noticed… but it’s understandable. She’s just being protective. I’ll be right there with you, okay? You’re her baby sister, and she’s trying to look out for you,” Ingrid reminded you, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“¡APÚRATE!” Alexia’s voice thundered through the house, shattering the moment. You jumped, pulling back with a sigh, realizing you couldn’t delay any longer. (HURRY UP!)

Together, you both got out of bed, freshened up, and dressed quickly. With heavy hearts, you made your way to the living room, where Alba and Alexia were waiting, the tension in the air thick enough to cut through.

As Alexia paced the floor, biting her nails, Alba sat quietly on the couch, watching her sister with concern.

You and Ingrid entered the room, slowly making your way toward the couch. Alexia didn’t waste a second.

“Explain,” she demanded, her voice sharp.

Taking a deep breath, you began recounting everything—how it all started with that coffee shop conversation, the moments at the park, exchanging numbers, the dates you shared, and how it evolved into this. As you spoke, Alexia's expression darkened, her anger intensifying.

“¿Entonces qué? ¿Ahora son novias?” she asked, her eyes darting between you and Ingrid. (So what? You’re girlfriends now?)

You exchanged a glance with Ingrid, uncertain how to answer. It had never been explicitly discussed, but you both made it clear your relationship had grown beyond something casual. Before you could respond, Ingrid squeezed your hand and spoke up.

“Yes, we are,” she said, lacing her fingers with yours.

Alexia’s eyes burned as she stared at your joined hands, disbelief etched across her face. “¿Tuvieron sexo?” she blurted out. (Did you have sex?)

“Alexia!” you and Alba exclaimed in unison, both shocked by the question.

You glanced at Ingrid with an apologetic expression as she recoiled at Alexia's words.

“Alexia, entiendo que estás molesta, pero esto no es asunto tuyo.” Alba interjected, clearly taken aback. (Alexia, I get that you’re upset, but this is none of your business)

“¿Lo hiciste?”Alexia pressed, ignoring Alba and locking her gaze on you. (Did you?)

“No, Alexia!” you exclaimed, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “¡Y aunque lo hubiéramos hecho, no es asunto tuyo!” (And even if we had, it’s none of your business!)

Her glare intensified as she looked between you and Ingrid. “¡Esta relación se ha acabado!”she declared coldly. Turning to you, she added, “¡Te prohibo que la vuelvas a ver!” (This relationship is over, I forbid you to see her again)

She then turned her wrath on Ingrid. “And you—you stay away from my sister.”

Your frustration boiled over. “¡No, Alexia! ¡Tengo 22 años! Puedo salir con quien quiera. No eres nadie para decirme cómo vivir mi vida.” (No, Alexia. I’m 22 years old! I can date whoever I want. You’re no one to tell me how to live my life)

“¡Soy tu hermana!” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger. (I’m your sister!)

“¡Y en lugar de intentar separarnos, deberías estar feliz por mí!” you shot back, tears welling up in your eyes. “¡Estoy feliz, y pensé que también querrías eso para mí! (And instead of trying to tear us apart, you should be happy for me! I’m happy, and I thought you’d want that for me.)

You looked to Alba, desperate for support. “Alba está de acuerdo con esta relación, ¿verdad?” you asked, your voice faltering. (Alba’s okay with this relationship, right?)

Alba’s expression was torn as she bit her lip, glancing between you and Alexia. “Y/N, nos mentiste durante semanas. E Ingrid es compañera de Alexia. Lo siento, pero Alexia tiene razón...” (Y/N, you lied to us for weeks. And Ingrid is Alexia’s teammate. I’m sorry, but Alexia is right…)

“Eso no es justo... No dijiste nada cuando Alba salió con Mapi.” you said to Alexia. (That’s not fair... You didn’t say anything when Alba dated Mapi)

You then turned to Alba, “Pensé que entenderías ya que estuviste en la misma posición” you added, disappointment clear in your voice and she looked at you sadly. (I thought you’d understand since you were in the same position)

“¡No es lo mismo!” Alexia shouted, and you turned to her, your frustration boiling over. (It’s not the same!)

“¿Cómo no es lo mismo?” you yelled back, your voice rising with anger. (How is it not the same?)

Alexia’s gaze hardened as she looked at the two of you switching to english “I don’t need to explain myself, it was not the same���now I want you to break up”

Ingrid, unfazed, tightened her grip on your hand. “I’m sorry, but no,it’s not going to happen” she said firmly. You nodded in agreement, standing your ground.

Alexia let out a disbelieving scoff. “No puedo creer esto. Vine aquí con Alba para que pudiéramos desayunar juntas, solo las tres, porque noté que no te sentías bien últimamente. Y esto es lo que encuentro...” Her voice trailed off as she stared at you, hurt flashing across her face. (I can’t believe this. I came here with Alba so we could have breakfast together, just the three of us, because I noticed you weren’t feeling well lately. And this is what I find…)

Guilt gnawed at you, and the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over.

With a frustrated shake of her head, Alexia stormed out of the apartment. Alba hesitated, her face filled with sadness as she looked at you. “Y/N…”

“No,” you interrupted her, your voice bitter. “Simplemente vete. No eres mejor que ella. Todo lo que quería era tu apoyo, pero ni siquiera estás feliz por mí. Así que vete; no te necesito” (Just leave. You’re no better than her. All I wanted was your support, but you’re not even happy for me. So leave—I don’t need you.)

You saw the tears in Alba’s eyes as she nodded silently and followed Alexia out.

Ingrid wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You sniffled, pulling back slightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, that went well,” you said with a weak chuckle.

Ingrid let out a small laugh and wiped away your tears. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” she reassured you.

“Thank you… girlfriend,” you smiled faintly.

Ingrid looked at you, slightly surprised. “Is that okay? I mean, I—”

“It’s more than okay,” you interrupted her with a soft smile. “I’m glad we’re official now, although I wish it was under better circumstances”

“Me too,” she sighed before leaning in for a gentle kiss.

As you pulled away, you whispered softly, more to yourself than to Ingrid, “Everything will be okay.”

Ingrid nodded, her eyes filled with affection. “Yes, everything will be okay soon…with time they’ll get over it”

But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

——

The next day at training, Alexia walked in, greeting everyone with her usual composure—everyone except Ingrid. Instead of acknowledging her, Alexia's eyes narrowed, and as she passed, she purposely bumped her shoulder against Ingrid’s, muttering something under her breath. Ingrid barely had time to react, biting her lip, sensing the storm coming.

As the training progressed, it became obvious Alexia had a target in mind. “Ingrid, push harder! You're falling behind!” Alexia’s voice cut through the field like a whip.

Ingrid, panting heavily, nodded and kept running laps, even though her legs already burned.

“Again! Faster!” Alexia yelled as Ingrid stumbled. The other players exchanged awkward glances, silently noting the unusually harsh treatment.

Ingrid gritted her teeth, her body screaming for rest, but she pushed through. She knew Alexia was still enraged about what had happened the previous night.

Any resistance now would only fuel the fire, so she stayed silent and did as told.

“Is this your idea of good defense?” Alexia snapped as they practiced drills. “You’re all over the place today!”

“Sorry, Capi,” Ingrid mumbled, too exhausted to argue or explain. She could feel the eyes of her teammates on her, each look of sympathy making it harder to endure.

By the end of the session, Ingrid was completely spent—her arms and legs hurted, and even lifting a water bottle seemed like a challenge. She winced as a sharp pain shot up her calf.

From a distance, Alexia watched her struggle, arms crossed, a cold expression on her face. She saw Ingrid grimace in pain, but it didn't matter.

This was her punishment. Alexia felt justified in being merciless. Ingrid had gone behind her back and dated her baby sister—something she could never forgive.

As the team huddled together at the end of training, Ingrid lingered behind, too exhausted to join. Her body was drenched in sweat, her face flushed with both effort and embarrassment.

Alexia’s sharp eyes flicked to her one last time, but she said nothing.

“Buena sesión, todas.” Alexia called out to the group, deliberately leaving Ingrid out of the compliment. (Good session, everyone)

The rest of the team exchanged glances, the tension between Alexia and Ingrid impossible to ignore.

“Algo definitivamente está mal” Cata whispered to Jana. (Something’s definitely up)

“Sin duda. Ha estado detrás de Ingrid todo el día”Jana responded, her voice low as they packed up their gear. (No doubt. She’s been on Ingrid the whole day)

Ingrid collapsed on a nearby bench, trying to catch her breath. Her muscles ached, and her throat was dry, but worse than the physical pain was the heavy cloud of tension that hung over her. Alexia was making her pay, and everyone knew it.

In the parking lot, Alexia spotted Ingrid walking towards her car. Without hesitation, she stormed over, her jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury.

“You were horrible today. Do better tomorrow,”Alexia snapped, her voice cold and cutting.

Ingrid turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “We both know that’s not true. You just can’t stand the fact that I’m dating your sister,” she said calmly but firmly, her tone laced with defiance.

Alexia stepped closer, her presence almost threatening, but Ingrid didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated.

“Accept it, Alexia. I’m with Y/N now. We’re happy together,” Ingrid continued, her voice steady as she looked Alexia square in the eyes.

“You can push me harder in training, try to make my life hell, but it won’t change the fact that we’re together. It’s time to grow up. She’s 22. I get that you want to protect her, but right now, you're acting like a child.”

Alexia’s eyes narrowed, her face contorted in anger. “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?” she spat, her voice dangerously low.

Ingrid calmly opened the back door of her car, tossing her bag inside before walking around to the driver’s side. She paused, looking at Alexia one last time.

“la novia de tu hermana.” she said simply, the words cutting through the tension like a blade. (your sister’s girlfriend)

Without waiting for a response, she got into the car and drove away, not sparing Alexia another glance.

If Ingrid had looked back, she would have seen Alexia standing frozen in place, her face flushed red with rage.

Alexia’s fists clenched tightly, veins bulging from her neck as she struggled to control her simmering anger.

The confrontation had struck deeper than she would ever admit, but for now, all she could do was seethe in silence.

——

Over the next few days of training, the tension between Alexia and Ingrid only grew worse. Alexia was relentless, pushing Ingrid harder than ever, to the point where it became obvious to everyone that this was personal.

During one particular session, the team was playing a possession game. Alexia had to take the ball from the others, and when Ingrid got possession, Alexia’s eyes locked on her with a laser focus.

She didn’t hesitate—she charged in, tackling Ingrid hard, her foot making harsh contact with Ingrid’s ankle.

Ingrid crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain. “Ingrid!” a few of the teammates shouted, running over as the coaches rushed in.

Ingrid gritted her teeth, clutching her ankle tightly.

Alexia stood there, arms crossed, unfazed. “You need to be quicker on your feet, Ingrid. Can’t be so slow,” she said, her voice cold, ignoring the concern from the others.

Ingrid’s eyes flashed with anger, but she bit her tongue. “I’m fine,” she muttered as the coaches helped her up. Her ankle was bruised, but nothing seemed broken.

She refused to give Alexia the satisfaction of knowing she was in pain.

Later, in the locker room, some of the other players whispered amongst themselves. “¿Viste eso? Alexia fue demasiado dura.” (Did you see that? Alexia went in way too hard)

“Ha estado así con Ingrid toda la semana” Vicky added. (She’s been like this with Ingrid all week)

“Definitivamente, algo está pasando entre ellas.” (Something’s definitely going on between them.)

Ingrid overheard but didn’t respond. She just pulled her socks over the bruise on her ankle and acted as if nothing was wrong.

You, meanwhile, had no idea any of this was happening. Ingrid never told you about the harsh treatment that Alexia gave her.

She didn’t want to escalate things between you and your sister. She kept her head down, knowing that anything she said might make things worse.

Tensions between you, Alexia, and Alba remained unchanged. Since that explosive morning argument, Alexia hadn’t said a word to you, and you had purposely ignored Alba’s repeated texts, despite her trying to reach out.

You couldn’t believe she’d side with Alexia…

All you ever wanted was to be happy with someone, but instead, it felt like you had lost the two most important people in your life because of it.

And as far as you knew, your mom wasn’t aware of the argument yet. You had no intention of telling her—at least not now. You planned to wait until things calmed down between the three of you.

——

“Can you please pass me the salt?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at Ingrid, who was busy chopping vegetables at her kitchen counter.

The two of you were surrounded by the comforting scents of garlic and herbs, the light of the setting sun casting a warm glow over the cozy apartment.

“Sure,” she replied, a soft smile brightening her face as she leaned over to grab the salt. But as she moved to the other side of the kitchen, you noticed her slight limp, a flicker of concern crossing your mind.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, stepping closer, your voice laced with worry. “You’re limping. Did you hurt yourself?”

Ingrid brushed it off, but the slight hitch in her breath betrayed her. “Yes, I did at training… but it’s nothing to worry about,” she insisted, trying to mask her discomfort.

She handed you the salt and leaned in, her lips brushing against yours for a quick kiss, her eyes sparkling with affection.

You wanted to believe her, but doubt lingered. “You’re sure?” you pressed gently, sensing she was hiding something. But Ingrid just nodded, a smile returning as she resumed her task.

As you continued cooking, the playful banter flowed between you like a well-loved melody. But each time she moved, you caught the flash of pain on her face, a fleeting moment that tugged at your heartstrings.

“Okay, that’s it,” you said, setting down the spatula and placing a hand on her shoulder. “You need to sit down. I’ll handle the cooking.”

Ingrid hesitated, her brow furrowing in protest, but you could see the fatigue etched on her face. With a reluctant sigh, she relented and made her way to the couch, settling in with a grateful smile.

After dinner, the two of you found yourselves snuggled on the couch, laughter still hanging in the air. As you leaned in for a kiss, the heat between you intensified, igniting sparks of passion.

But as your legs shifted, they brushed against Ingrid’s injured ankle, eliciting a sharp hiss from her.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, Ingrid!” you exclaimed, pulling away in alarm, your heart racing with guilt.

“It’s okay!” she reassured you, though her voice was strained.

“Just give me a minute,” you said, quickly getting up and rushing to the freezer. You grabbed an ice pack, your heart pounding as you returned to her side.

“Here,” you said gently, handing it to her. Before she could protest, you carefully pulled down her sock, revealing a massive bruise that made your stomach drop.

You gasped, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You said it was nothing!”

Ingrid looked up at you, her expression a mix of defiance and discomfort. “It is nothing, thank you,” she replied, pressing the ice pack against her ankle. But your worry only deepened.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? Do we see the same thing here?” You shifted closer, concern etched into your features as you placed your hand over hers, trying to offer comfort.

She chuckled lightly, her fingers caressing your thigh. “Yeah, we do, baby. But I already saw the doctor. By the end of the week, it’ll be all good,” she said, trying to reassure you.

You frowned, shaking your head. “How did you even get that?” you asked, sensing there was more to the story.

“At training,” she replied, her eyes darting away from yours.

A knot formed in your stomach, and you pressed further. “Yes, but how? Specifically?” You leaned in, trying to capture her gaze, but she avoided it, an uncomfortable silence settling between you.

“We were training, and I had the ball. Keira came for it, and she tackled me too hard,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to her lap.

“You’re lying,” you said quietly, your heart racing as you felt the tension thickening in the air.

“No, I’m not,” she retorted, finally looking at you, but there was something in her eyes that gave you pause.

“Why are you lying to me?” You stood, frustration boiling over as you felt your heart ache.

“Y/N, I told you that I’m not,” she pleaded, rising to her feet, desperation in her eyes.

“Yes, you are! I can tell! You’re avoiding eye contact and being dismissive!” Your voice rose, the hurt in your tone unmistakable as it echoed around the cozy confines of her apartment.

You could feel the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest, each word cutting deeper. “I can’t believe it. We’ve been officially dating for only a week, and you’re already hiding things from me!”

The silence that followed felt suffocating, heavy with unspoken emotions. You turned toward the door, your heart racing, ready to walk away from it all. The thought of leaving filled you with a mix of anger and sadness.

“What was I expecting?” you said softly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Our whole relationship is based on a lie anyways” The finality of the statement hung in the air, a bitter truth that settled like a fog between you.

Ingrid’s heart sank at your words, a crushing wave of despair washing over her. She couldn’t let you think that your relationship was built on deceit, especially when it felt like the best thing in her life.

“It was Alexia!” she blurted out, the confession bursting from her lips like a dam breaking, desperate to clarify the truth.

You froze, the shock of her revelation rooting you in place. “Alexia tackled you?” you asked, your mind racing to process the implications of what she had just said.

Confusion twisted within you, battling against the instinct to protect her.

“Yeah,” she said, stepping closer, her eyes wide and earnest, searching your face for understanding.

“But it’s not just that. Ever since she found out about us, she’s been treating me differently—harder.”

“What do you mean?” you pressed, the confusion in your chest intensifying as you moved closer, your gaze locked on hers, yearning for clarity.

Ingrid took a deep breath, the weight of her words heavy on her shoulders.

“She’s been so hard on me at training, making me do extra drills, constantly criticizing me... It’s been brutal.” Her voice trembled, the vulnerability evident as she shared the truth she had been carrying.

A fierce anger ignited within you, flames of rage flickering at the thought of anyone—especially one of your sisters—treating her that way. It made your blood boil, and you felt a surge of protectiveness rise to the surface.

You had always been someone who avoided confrontation, but this felt different; this was about protecting Ingrid, the person who meant so much to you.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Ingrid called after you, panic lacing her voice as you turned towards the door, determination coursing through your veins like adrenaline.

“Voy a matarla.” you replied, your tone serious, every word filled with resolve. The thought of letting Alexia continue her behavior without consequences was unbearable. You had to stand up for Ingrid, to show her that she wasn’t alone in this fight. (I’m going to kill her)

—————————

Tags:

@leonchef @wososapologist @marvelwomen-simp @the-hottest-avenger-loves-soccer @t0ygirl

[suiana]

(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)

did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?

well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???

"shoo! go away!"

you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.

you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?

but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.

"bweh."

"go away!"

the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.

"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"

"guh!"

you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.

"thanks."

you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.

"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."

"bwa! buh beh!"

your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...

"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."

"gah!"

you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??

"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."

"kh... gur! rh..."

"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."

you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!

if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?

"tn... jhn... ngh..."

"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."

"bah!"

rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.

"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."

"kah kah. jah?"

"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"ui..."

what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?

[nathaslosthershit]

Emotional Times (OP81)

Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!

It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.

There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 

The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 

“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-

Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 

Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.

“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.

“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”

He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 

The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.

“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.

With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 

She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.

Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.

She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 

She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 

A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.

“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.

If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.

“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.

“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 

“Yeah well i-”

“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 

And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 

Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”

“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:

Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 

Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 

Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.

Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days

Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?

Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.

Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.

Nicole: 😉

Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 

“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.

“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 

“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.

After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.

“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.

The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 

“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.

“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.

“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”

“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.

“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.

Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.

“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.

“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.

Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.

“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  

Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 

[heart-eyed-love]

Your Stupid Little Fucker

Summary | Eddie teases you about a said stuffed animals that turns out you don't have anymore and he takes that to heart.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to- Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Word Count | 1.3k

An | Soooo, I kinda want to make series of oneshots and drabbles and what not for a bestfriend!eddie and bestfriend!reader, so i think this will be my first installment of that… and i’ll write stuff for the timeline that will be put out, out of order but i’ll make a masterlist so everything can be ordered correctly @_@ (which is also heavily inspired by the way wheels-of-despair sets up her amazing evil woman series)

“And you still sleep with it?” Jeff laughs as he questions Gareth, whose face only seems to be getting redder. But you’re not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or building anger.

“No, I don’t sleep with it, Asshole.” Gareth glares over at the boy, “Just because I still have it doesn’t mean I sleep with it.” 

“Then why do you still have it?” Grant questions with a grin. As he lifted the stuffed animal off of Gareth's bed as he seemed to inspect it.

Gareth was 100% not enjoying the interrogation on the stuffed rabbit that he had had since he was a baby. If he had known that everyone would have ended up in his room after band practice he would’ve hidden the ratty old thing.

“My mom is making me keep it.” It was a lie, and obvious one at that, but just in time Eddie cut in. Ultimately it wasn’t to benefit Gareth, but rather to put you on the spot.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. (Y/n) still sleeps with one too!” He looks over to you with a smirk, teasing tone he knows will piss you off. And he’s proud to be met with a glare already staring back at him.

“No, I don’t.” The other boys giggle, but Gareth feels your pain so he stays quiet.

“So, you don’t still sleep with that stuffed bat?” He eggs you on.

Ah. The stuffed bat. One that Eddie himself had so proudly won for you back in your freshman year. He was pleasantly surprised with himself that night at the fair, an “athletic” game that involved him throwing? And actually successfully knocking down all the pins? Yeah, he was pretty stoked, he was able to pull that off on the first try. If he had missed those with you standing next to him that experience would have been all too humbling.

But no, he had successfully won you a prize. A stuffed bat he picked, and he turned to you with an overly cocky smile for a guy who had gotten lucky with his shots.

But the bat seemed fitting, something he’d selfishly hoped you would see and immediately think of him.

“For me?” You ask with a smirk as he hands the plush over to you.

“Yeah, well I don’t have much use for it…” He’s trying to act all cool about it, but he knows he only even purchased tickets to play that game for you.

“Well, thank you, kind sir.” You smile up at him.

“Yeah, whatever, dork.” He shoves your head playfully and turns away before the slight redness of his cheeks can be noticed by you.

To say the least, that night was a night both of you remembered fondly. One of your favorite memories is Eddie gifting you that stuffed bat, and now he’s using it to try to embarrass you?

“No, I actually don’t, Eddie. I got rid of that thing.” Lie, big lie. It currently sat smack dap next to the pillow you slept on but you weren’t going to admit that. It probably wasn’t the best thing to lie about but right now, you didn’t care, he was trying to embarrass you and you weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.

But why should you be embarrassed? Is it weird that you kept it after all this time? Is it weird that you feel so attached to it because Eddie gave it to you?

But in the slight blinded anger you felt, the fall of Eddie’s cheeky, teasing attitude had gone unnoticed by you. 

“You got rid of it?”

“Yeah, kinda just outgrew it I guess.” He watches you shrug like it’s nothing, like he had won that thing especially for you.

And truthfully, as Eddie thought back to it he couldn’t actually recall if it had been in your room the last time he went in there, he really just couldn’t remember. 

Thankfully for you though, cause yeah, it was still in there then too.

The boys have already moved on to another subject, and Jeff and Grant recklessly went through Gareth's comics as he screeched at them to be careful snatching it away from Grant. You walk past Eddie and over to the boys, taking your own time to look through the piles, trying to forget lying directly to Eddie’s face.

He stood moderately frozen at the news you just broke to him, but he pulled himself out of it and rejoins the groups, staying rather quiet as he went through the comics.

Staying way quieter than Eddie normally would all the way until pulling back up to your house that evening. And you finally crack…

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a brow raised in confusion as you looked over at the boy. 

“Nothing, wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“Cause you’re barely talking… and while I do love this peace and quiet…” you tease but to no avail, “it’s not like you…”

“Did you actually get rid of it?” He turns to you suddenly, and you’re partially surprised by the harsh tone.

“What?” You know exactly what but you don’t know how to get into this right now.

“Did you actually get rid of it? Like did you give it away or did you just throw it in the garage or something?” His tone becomes more annoyed by the second, and you actually fear you might have made him mad. Which wasn't what you had even wanted in the first place, you just wanted him off your back.

“I never said-“ But he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because honestly it’s kinda shitty if you did either way.”

Now you’re rolling your eyes and he’s widening his. Why don’t you care about this?

Why isn’t he letting you speak? Instead of even trying to explain you just slide out of the van as Eddie watches with furrowed brows. 

Were you actually walking away from him right now?

“Are you coming?” You ask over your shoulder as you approach your front door, and you stand there as you watch Eddie scrambling to turn his van off and hop out to meet you at the door.

You both walk to your bedroom silently, and Eddie trails behind you kind of confused but ultimately letting this play out. And as you open your bedroom door you walk a few feet in and you point to the soft plush sitting next to your pillow.

“Where it literally sits every single time you come over, where it sits every single day. I don’t know how you actually believed me.”

“Why did you lie…?” He asks softly.

“Cause you were obviously trying to embarrass me for still having it.”

“What? No! I was just messing around, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it, (Y/n)…” He tries to defend, “Sorry… I’m glad you still have it, relieved actually.”

“Yeah, Well no shit, I thought you were about to start crying in the van…” You tease, lightening the moment.

“I was not about to cry.” He glares, “It’d just be pretty rude, considering I almost threw my back out trying to win that stupid thing for you.”

“Almost threw your back out?!” You cackle out at his dramatics, “Eddie, the pins weren’t even 10 feet away from you.”

“Yeah, I put my athletic abilities to the test for you and this is the thanks I get?” You pull fingers into quotes as he mentions his athletic abilities, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“You did all that just for me?” You tease with a smirk, “You really won that for me?” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thought it would be nice.” He rolls his eyes again and plops onto your bed, purposely knocking the stuffed bat off your bed, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

“Oh my Gosh, you did not just do that!” You screech as you dramatically pick him up and cradle him to your chest with faux shock.

“What? That stupid fuckers causing a lot of drama.” He smiles playfully.

“Yeah, well, he’s my stupid fucker.” You say setting the bat back down in its rightful spot. Smiling down at Eddie as you do.

And he can’t help but smile back. 

God, he hopes he can be your stupid fucker too.

[entitled-fangirl]

Peculiar (P 0.5)

Cregan Stark x seer!Reader

Summary: After a frightening vision, the reader has to make sure Cregan is okay.

Warnings: misinterpreting the Red mf Wedding 😭

A/n: THIS IS A PREQUEL TO THIS! And based on an ask!

Masterlist

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

She could cry.

The visions had been getting better. She had been doing better. But suddenly, a horrific sight flooded her mind and she couldn't stop it from happening. 

Stark blood stained the stone floors of a great castle.

"The Lannisters send their regards…" she sniffled. That was all she could remember of it. "The Lannisters…"

She feared what her great lord husband would think when he found out about her… peculiarity. He knew of it only in speech, never seeing it for himself. 

She couldn't let him view what she had become. 

Her handmaiden had told her to keep Cregan at arms distance in order to keep her dreams and visions from scaring him, or worse, casting her aside. 

But she couldn't handle it tonight.

She needed to see that he was okay.

She jumped up and walked out of her chamber, not bothering to grab her robe.

Her feet padded against the cold floor of Winterfell as she ran to his room. 

But once she reached the door that she knew was his, she hesitated. 

She should not interrupt his sleep.

She shouldn't bother him.

She shouldn't…

She knocked on the door and waited.

After a while, the door opened with a creak. Cregan's tired form filled the doorway. He was angry, reasonably so, thinking that a servant had interrupted his sleep. But seeing the culprit to be his wife, he softened his tone, "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… I just… I-" she stopped herself, realizing how pathetic her words had become.

Cregan tilted his head, rubbing his eyes forcefully. "What is it?"

"I needed to see you," she almost whimpered.

He paused and considered her words. "You wanted to see me?" He questioned.

"I needed to see that you're alright," she clarified.

"I am fine," he stated, holding his arms out as proof. "I was abed, slumbering quite peacefully. You have nothing to fret over."

She steadied her breathing, "Right." She rubbed her arm soothingly. "It was foolish of me to wake you. Please forgive me."

"I will if you tell me what caused such a ruckus in your mind," he stated, a twinkling coming to his eye as his mind finally was beginning to wake.

He hadn't gotten to spend as much time with her as he had hoped. She was skittish, and fairly so, but he couldn't find a way to connect with her. 

Perhaps it was because she wished for her own room. Or so Cregan had been led to believe. 

"Well?" He questioned when she gave no response.

"I saw something."

"Alright," he said as he took in her words. "What is it that you saw? Are you alright?"

"No, my lord," she persisted. "I saw something."

Oh.

He knew that she had visions, but he had yet to see the effects of them.

And now here she was, teary-eyed in the night at his door, begging to see that he was alright.

Whatever had occurred must have been quite serious.

He hummed in thought. Rather than saying anything, he moved out of the doorway, motioning with his head for her to come in.

She obeyed and walked into his room. She walked past him and began to observe his chambers.

The room was lit only by the flames of the fire in the fireplace. She walked to the fire to warm her.

Cregan shut the door and turned to her. "Chilled?"

She shrugged lightly as she stared into the flames.

He moved next to her. His hand brushed against her lower back in an attempt to sooth her.

"There was… there was blood," she whispered out. "Stark blood."

He felt a chill go down his spine. "Stark blood?" He rubs a hand down his small beard and huffs. "Sit down. I want to hear it all."

"You don't," she countered.

"I promise to you that I do. Now sit," he commanded softly.

She considered his words then nodded, sitting on the sofa by the fire. She pulled her legs up to her chest and began. "Well, I usually try to forget."

Cregan sat down next to her but left enough room to let her be comfortable. "If you don't wish to tell me, just say so."

"I'll remember. Just… give me a moment."

"Take your time," he remarked sweetly.

They sat in silence for a while.

"The lion will set a trap and the young wolf will fall. Red will rain down… as the king meets his match."

Cregan hummed. "That's a harsh dream, don't you think? Do they always frighten you like this?"

"There was… a feast… a…. A wedding feast. There was a Stark. I'm sure it was you, I'm sure of it. And… and a wife that I… I hope is me. She was with child but…" her voice trailed off completely this time.

"But…?" He pushed.

"But... the wedding was a trap. And you died. It was horrid."

"Do your dreams always come true?"

"Not usually. But… I imagine that they will one day. That day is just not come yet."

He thought for a while, leaning back on the sofa. "Is there anything else of note to this dream?"

"They said something. Before… before we were slaughtered."

His face paled, "You as well?" 

She nodded, "Well… I believe I may have been first. Me and…" the words got caught in her throat. "…the…the child."

Cregan's mind began to go into overdrive. The child? She believed he would ever let something befall her and a child of his in that manner? 

He already felt protective over the non-existent babe.

"What did they say?" He asked lowly as he looked to her.

She continued to stare at the flames. " 'The Lannisters send their regards.' "

Cregan stood and began to pace as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. The other was placed on his hip.

She watched his shadow dance across the ceiling as he moved. "Do you think me mad?"

He paused and turned his head to look at her. "What?"

"It's alright if you do. The people do. I've heard their whispers in the night when they think I cannot hear them. I imagine you whisper as well."

"You are my wife. Why would I ever-"

"-Please. Do not lie to save my dignity." She sniffled. "You have a wife that will surely go mad by her last days. It's alright to admit it."

"You're not mad, nor will you be," he stated forcefully, trying to make her believe it. "Do they speak to you in that manner? Do they say things to you?"

"Sometimes," she answered with a dead tone. She was indifferent to it all now. 

He sighed. "I understand your need for space, but I'd like you to move into here. Permanently. What do you think?"

"I shouldn't."

He marched to her and knelt in front of her. "I want you to feel safe. Wanted." He took her hand. "Whether this vision is the very vision of truth or whether it's all shit, I'm tired of this wall between us. Now, will you help me tear it down?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He smiled lightly, brushing her cheek with his calloused fingers. "Thank you. Perhaps you should rest. It's still fairly early in the night. Enough time to find sleep."

"I couldn't sleep now. I never can after seeing things."

"Hmm. Well… perhaps you'll indulge me by laying by my side as I rest?" He offered, hoping to coax her under the warm furs.

He wanted to further tease her, but stopped himself, knowing that she was working through her thoughts. "I'm only asking for your company and nothing more."

She nodded.

He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the bed and pulling the furs aside. "The journey from your room to this one must have been cold. Were you so concerned for me you didn't grab a cloak?"

When she said nothing, he took that as an answer enough. "Let us get you warm then."

The two settled into the bed, the constantly flickering light from the flames almost leaving them in darkness.

She laid on the edge of the bed. She didn't want to overstep her welcome. She wasn't sure how far that welcome extended.

But his large arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, and a chuckle came from his throat. "I wouldn't invite you if I didn't want you here."

She snuggled into his chest and relished the heat that radiated from him.

"I am sorry I have not been more attentive to you," he mentioned. "I should have been kinder and more welcoming."

"No," she interrupted. "I've pushed you away-"

"-Because I made you feel as if that was the best outcome." He brushed hair from her face. "Don't fret about that anymore. And in the morning, I want a list of those who have spoken unkindly to you."

"What will you do?"

He said nothing, only holding her closer.

As she began to lull to sleep, he smiled. "I won't let a Lannister touch you. That I can promise."

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

A/n: dare I make a part 3 when she's pregnant???? And have more visions??? I love how much everyone was trying to figure out what they were

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @dozcan123, @lady-dragon-rider

[punkshort]

Birthday Wishes

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's Joel's birthday and he only has one wish.

Warnings: language, hallmark style fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, anxiety

WC: 5K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Today was the day.

He was really going to do it this time.

He chickened out countless times already but this time, he was going to go through with it.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

The ring had a permanent home in his pocket by now, always waiting for the 'perfect time', for 'the right moment', and so many passed him by with his fingertips brushing up against the smooth gold deep in his pocket. Like the time he took you to a baseball game and you made it on the kiss cam. Or when you rented a lake house for a weekend getaway and you watched the sunset together from the front porch with a shared blanket draped over your knees.

Goddamnit, he was so nervous it was making him sick. What was he so worried for? He didn't think you would say no, although you haven't even been together even a year yet. Maybe it was too soon for you. He could have asked you two weeks after meeting you and it wouldn't have made a difference to him, he knew right away. But maybe it was different for you.

But on Father's Day, you did admit to wanting kids with him one day. So you must have been thinking about your future together, even a little. Right?

He should just do it right now. Just get it over with and slide the ring on your finger while you slept so peacefully next to him. It wasn't a half bad idea, but he always envisioned his proposal being a little more meaningful, and it felt like taking the easy way out if he just put it on your finger while you were asleep.

You deserved better than that. You deserved a whole speech on why you're so fucking perfect and how much you've changed his and Sarah's lives. And everyone should know it, not just the two of you. Everyone should hear how incredible you are and how happy you were together. If he could, despite his nerves, he would broadcast it on national television.

Then, right as you stirred, the perfect idea hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What're you smiling about?" you yawned when you peered up at him from your pillow.

"Nothin'," he said before slinking back down into bed to wrap his arms around you. You tucked your face into his neck and wedged one of your legs between both of his and it was fucking heaven the way your body fit perfectly against him. Then, you practically jumped awake when you remembered what day it was.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed, tipping your head back with a huge smile.

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, pinching your chin and tugging you closer so he could press your lips together.

"Feeling your age yet, Miller?" you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows, and he laughed, pushing his hips against you underneath the covers. When you felt the growing erection in his sweatpants, you giggled and squirmed away. "Guess that answers that question," you said, tossing the covers off you so you could stand. Joel frowned and reached out for you.

"Where you goin'?"

"I have laundry to do and a whole house to clean, not to mention food to make for your party later," you reminded him. You tugged your shirt over your head so you could put on a bra and clean shirt and Joel groaned from his spot in bed when he caught a glimpse of your bare chest.

"Can't give me twenty minutes 'fore you start all that?"

You had just clasped your bra and held your shirt in your hand when you turned back around, on the verge of telling him you really didn't have the time to spare because you both knew he would take longer than twenty minutes, but then you saw how fucking breathtakingly handsome he looked all shrouded with sleep, hair tousled and voice rough, and you couldn't resist. It was his birthday, after all. With a sigh and a smirk, you jumped back into bed, straddling his lap and laughing when his eyes lit up with delight.

"Twenty minutes - I'm holding you to it."

Thank goodness for Sarah. She helped you clean the house, move the laundry, and then hung all the decorations while you checked on the cake in the oven and began to marinate the burgers, chicken and steaks.

Joel offered to help countless times but you kept refusing. Instead, you pushed him outside to relax in the sun while you worked away in the kitchen. You had the foresight to make two pasta salads the day before but you still needed to cook up the yams, get the dough for the biscuits ready, and chop up vegetables for a green salad.

Luckily your gift, two tickets for really good seats to a basketball game, was small enough to just shove into a card, one which you already wrote a sappy little love letter to him on the inside.

"Alright, living room's all set. What else?" Sarah asked when she breezed into the room. You glanced at the time before looking out the window.

"Can you start setting up the tables and chairs in the yard? The tablecloths are right there," you said, pointing to the pile on the counter which also consisted of paper plates and napkins.

"You got it," she said, but before she jogged outside, you called after her, "You're a lifesaver!"

"I know!" she shouted back, then the sliding door shut, leaving you all alone in the kitchen. You had enough time, you just needed to keep moving, but you did pause long enough to connect your phone to a speaker so you could listen to some music while you worked.

About thirty minutes later, some movement caught your eye through the window over the sink that looked out onto the backyard. You smiled when you saw Tommy and Maria climb the deck stairs to give Joel matching hugs and a small blue gift bag. Maria stepped back when the two men began laughing after Tommy made an old man joke and she caught your eye in the window. She gave you an excited wave and jogged into the house, sliding the door shut behind her and tossing her purse on the table.

"Hey!" she sang out, pulling her hair back. "Give me something to do."

You immediately put her in charge of the salad and the yams while you got all the appetizers ready, eternally grateful for her help. And she worked fast, too. Before you knew it, you had all the appetizers out on the counter ready to be taken outside but guests didn't arrive for another forty five minutes.

"I think we've earned a couple drinks of our own," Maria said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and jutting her chin towards the glass door where Joel and Tommy sat, beers in hand and feet kicked up, relaxing in the sun.

"Hell, yeah," you replied, swiveling around to yank a bottle of wine from the fridge. "White wine good with you?"

"Absolutely," she said, reaching on her tip toes to grab a couple wine glasses from the top shelf of your cupboard.

"Oh, my god, did Joel do these?" she asked when she closed the door and saw the intricate designs carved into the wood. You turned around and nodded fondly.

"Aren't they amazing?"

"Shit, I didn't know he was so creative," Maria said in awe, fingertips dragging over a cluster of little birds.

"He did them in my parents' house, too," you told her as you carefully poured two glasses of wine. "I told him he would make so much money if he advertised that skill a little more, but he said he doesn't want to. Said it would suck all the fun out of it."

Maria rolled her eyes in disbelief before clinking your glasses together and taking a sip.

"Is your family coming tonight?"

You nodded and rushed over to the oven to turn off a timer. "Yep. My parents, my sister, her husband and my niece."

"Anna, right? How old is she now?"

You sighed and took another sip of your wine. "Six months, can you believe it? Cassie's already begging Josh for another one, she's absolutely insane."

"Speaking of," Maria said, nodding out the window. You turned to see your family climbing the stairs of the deck, loudly wishing Joel happy birthday and giving him hugs and slaps on the back.

"Shit, maybe we should take some of these outside," you said, pointing to the appetizers.

"Let's take the cold ones out and leave the warm ones in the oven til more people arrive."

Maria and Sarah were unbelievably helpful the entire party. Sarah made sure everyone had drinks and knew where the coolers were while Maria was constantly picking up after everyone. Tommy even volunteered to grill so you could spend some time catching up with your family.

"Buck, where's Joel?" Cassie asked, looking around the crowded yard. You peered through the throngs of people until your brow relaxed and you smiled, pointing to the corner of the lawn.

"Looks like he's playing cornhole with some guys from work."

"How're things goin' with him, honey?" your father asked. You swirled around and frowned at the term of endearment.

"'Honey'?" you repeated, the word sounding vile on your tongue. "You never call me that. You only ever call me Bucky."

Your dad shook his head and took a sip of beer. "Not true. I call you all sorts'a things."

"No," Cassie said, one hand on her hip and the other cradling Anna. "You don't, Dad."

He rolled his eyes and looked to your mom for help.

"I think Dad's just wondering if things with you and Joel are still going good. He just worries about you," your mom explained, wrapping an arm around your dad's sizable waist. "You know, since moving in together. It's a big step and-"

"And we were thinkin' you might've gotten a new piece of jewelry by now, is all," you dad finished for her.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, face instantly growing hot. Thank fuck Joel wasn't around to hear that. The last thing you wanted to do was pressure him but still, the image of a small velvet box you saw tucked into his underwear drawer when you first moved in danced across your vision. "We are extremely happy, thank you very much. I'm begging you, please don't say something like that in front of him."

"Don't worry, Buck, I won't let him," Cassie promised. "Dad! You can't pressure them like that! Joel's probably just taking his time and not rushing anything because of the whole Will fiasco."

You cringed and looked away at the mention of your ex-fiancé who cheated on you with your ex-best friend back in New York City.

"It hasn't even been a year yet," you grumbled, "I'm happy, he's happy, can we please change the subject now?"

"Of course we can, Buck," your mom said, then patted your dad on his belly. "Did you tell the girls about Auntie Carolyn?"

You breathed a sigh of relief when your dad launched into a story about his sister meeting some guy at church and what a big deal it was for her as it was the first date she had been on since her husband passed away almost twenty years ago. At some point near the end of the story, Joel had sidled up next to you. His arm snaked around your middle and he pressed his lips lovingly against the side of your head, murmuring so only you could hear about what a great party it was and how he was having a fantastic time. You leaned into him, tuning your mom and dad out when the conversation began to dwindle into some dumb argument over which month your uncle died.

"Did you eat?" he asked you, looking down at you like you were the only two people on earth, his deep brown eyes sparkling brightly as they drifted over your face.

"I did, did you?"

"Mhm, ate too much. Everythin' was so perfect, baby, thank you," he said before capturing your lips with his. His mouth lingered a moment too long and if you hadn't already tasted the beer from his kiss, his delayed reaction pulling away would have been your next clue.

"How much did you have to drink?" you giggled, your family now completely ignored. It wasn't your fault. It was the effect Joel had on you, and you wouldn't change it for anything.

"Not that much," he replied, and you scoffed before rolling your eyes. "No, I'm serious. Only had, ah, three, I think. I ain't drunk."

"It's okay if you are, it's your birthday-"

"No, listen to me. I ain't drunk," he repeated, staring you dead in the eye so you could see his vision was as clear as his mind. He couldn't have you thinking he would be proposing to you drunk.

"O-okay," you said slowly, giving him a confused smile before taking his hand. "We should do cake and gifts in case people want to take off soon."

Joel nodded, following as you led him through the crowd to the deck, his free hand raking anxiously through his hair as he tried to remember his speech.

He stood by your side as you gathered everybody around the cake you made, smiling when Sarah had to shout to get everyone's attention while you lit the candles and he tried not to bring attention to the fact his hands were shaking and his breath was growing shallow.

You clapped your hands together loudly, then sang out the first note to Happy Birthday, his friends and family following suit and holding up their phones, snapping pictures and videos when he tugged you into one side, Sarah into the other and kissed the top of your heads. He made eye contact with Tommy and his brother gave him a subtle nod, holding up his phone and making sure he had the clearest angle for when he blew out his candles.

Fuck, he was really going to do this.

When the song ended, he took a deep breath, looking at you once before blowing out the candles. He vaguely heard everyone clapping and cheering, their voices stirring up old conversations again, but he could hardly process any of it through his nerves.

"Here, why don't you let me do that," Maria said slyly, taking the knife from your hand before you could begin to cut the cake. You quirked an eyebrow at her but gave her the knife anyway.

"What'd you wish for, Dad?" Sarah asked loudly, commanding most of the guests' attention. She was giving him a playful smirk, eyes darting back and forth between you while she rocked excitedly on her heels.

It was around that point when you sensed something was going on. The entire moment felt like it was moving in slow motion but in reality it had probably only been a handful of seconds. You looked over at your family, huddled together and smiling and you narrowed your eyes at Cassie, trying to read her mind to no avail.

With your head still turned, you heard a handful of soft gasps and squeaks. Your gaze was still locked on Cassie and in a split second, you saw her eyes drop to somewhere behind you. Her face crumpled and her hand flew up to cover her mouth and you slowly tilted your head to the side. She was happy. Those were happy tears.

Your eyes widened when everyone fell eerily silent and you felt more than saw their eyes on you. Your heart began to beat faster, mind racing and adrenaline shooting through your body when you finally twisted back around.

"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed, voice already breaking when you made eye contact with Joel, who had dropped to one knee while holding a diamond ring with shaky fingers. You slapped both palms over your mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut but the tears still leaked out and trickled down your cheeks. It was actually happening.

Then, you opened your eyes. His mouth was curved into a nervous smile and his eyes were glassy as he gazed up at you from the wood floor of the deck. The blood in your veins was moving so goddamn fast you could hear it rushing in your ears, so you took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. You wanted to make sure you remembered every single second and every single word.

"Hey, baby," he said. His tone was so soft, you almost forgot anyone else was around. It felt like, in that moment, it was just the two of you. You laughed lightly through your tears, unable to keep the smile from your face, so certain it would never, ever fade. He reached up to you with his free hand and you flicked away a couple tears before tucking your hand inside his.

"When we first met," he began, voice trembling a bit, "I know we said we would keep things casual, but, uh... I lied."

A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd and you grinned, unwilling to look away from him.

"I knew the night of our first date we'd end up right here, one way or another. You know why?"

You shook your head, tears clouding your vision, so you blinked them away.

"'Cause I never felt the way I felt that night with anyone else," he told you, his lower lip quivering as his smile slowly began to slip. "It was like... my heart knew 'fore my head I couldn't ever live without you."

"Me, too," you wept. His eyes sparkled and you saw his throat bob before he took a steadying breath.

"You changed my life. You changed my daughter's life, and for that-" he cut himself off, throat closing up and voice growing thick as he took a moment to collect himself. But when you saw two tears trickle down his cheeks, disappearing into his beard, you fell to your knees with him and cupped his face. "I can't thank you enough, baby," he finally whispered. You dragged your thumbs over his damp cheeks, tears streaming down your own face, too, but you didn't care. Joel pressed his forehead against yours for a moment, just a quick second to ground himself before inhaling sharply and leaning back. He held the diamond ring between you, eyes flickering to it briefly, then swallowed nervously before saying your full name, followed by, "Will you marry me?"

You nodded so fast you thought your neck would snap.

"Yes!" you cried out, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into his shoulder. His muscles sagged with relief right before his arms circled you, tugging you closer. Everyone around you was laughing and cheering so you couldn't hear Joel, but you could feel the way his shoulders moved and his chest heaved. Then he shifted so his mouth was next to your ear and you heard his laughter mixed with choked sobs, mimicking your own.

"I love you," you sobbed before finding his lips. "I love you so much," you said while repeatedly planting kisses all over his face. He chuckled and tilted his head back so he could give you one more searing kiss before sitting back on his heels and holding out his hand. You swiped your tears away with the back of your hand, staring at him until it dawned on you what he wanted.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shakily presenting your left hand to him. He slid the ring on with ease and hummed his approval under his breath when you flicked your wrist around, catching the diamond in the light.

"I love it," you breathed, locking eyes with him. He had the biggest smile on his face, the kind that made the wrinkles next to his eyes scrunch up in the most adorable way. You were about to say more when Sarah tackled him out of nowhere right as your sister hugged you from behind and practically screeched in your ear.

The rest of the party was a blur after that.

The men ended up somehow finding cigars and surrounding themselves with clouds of thick smoke in the backyard while encouraging Joel to take a couple shots of tequila with them.

"Hey, go easy on him! He's old now and he's gotta celebrate later," Tommy joked. Joel whipped around, fucking praying Sarah or your father weren't around to hear that, then shoved his brother in the shoulder, muttering watch it under his breath.

Meanwhile, your family had you cornered in the living room. Your mom had been on the verge of tears since Joel proposed, your sister had passed Anna off onto your brother-in-law so she could admire your ring while already lecturing you on color schemes, band or DJ, and suggesting a few banquet halls in the vicinity that were beautiful but book up fast.

"I've been engaged for an hour, Cas! Give me a break!" you laughed before turning to your dad. "Did you know? Earlier when you were-"

"Nope!" he immediately said, his face all red from the excitement. "Well, I didn't know he was gonna do it tonight but... I knew. Asked my permission the night little Annie was born."

April? Joel had been thinking about proposing to you since April? The love you had for that man was insurmountable.

"Excuse us!" Sarah yelled out, racing through the living room with two of her friends, their phones clutched in their hands and giggling as they headed for the door.

"Uh, where are you going?" you asked when you saw her put on shoes.

She glanced up at you and grinned.

"The school football team's playing a home game, we were gonna try to catch the last quarter so Katy could give Paulie heart eyes from the bleachers," Sarah laughed when Katy shoved her shoulder, her face turning pink.

"Does your dad know?"

"Listen to Buck, already sounding like a stepmom," Cassie whispered to your parents.

"Yeah, he said it was cool. I'll be home by midnight," she replied, then right when she turned towards the door she stopped, swiveling back around and rushing over to you. She threw her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, Bucky."

You kissed the top of her messy curls with a smile before she let you go.

"Love you, too. Be safe."

After Sarah left, a dam broke and other guests began to gather their things to leave, finding each of you to thank you for the party and congratulate you one more time until all that remained were Tommy and Maria helping Joel clean up the yard while you practically pushed your family out the door, insisting they didn't need to help and that Anna needed to get to bed.

When the house was finally silent, you tiredly strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, looking around at the empty cups, plates, half filled bottles of beer and uncovered trays of food. A Happy Birthday banner hung loosely from above your head where someone had drunkenly scrawled congrats! in black sharpie underneath. Crumpled bags of potato chips and spilled drinks littered your counters, but you were happy. You were so stupidly, unbelievably happy that no amount of cleaning up could ever take that away from you.

And surprisingly, it didn't take very long. Maybe it was due to your unwavering good mood every time you tied up a garbage bag or ripped off a piece of foil and saw your beautiful engagement ring sparkling on your hand, but regardless of the reason, you had gotten the kitchen into decent enough shape by ten thirty, just as the sliding door opened.

"Alright. Yard's as good as we're gonna get it," Tommy yawned when he stepped inside, followed closely by Joel and Maria.

"Thank you both so much," you said, giving them each tight hugs before finding your spot next to Joel. He tucked you under his arm and glanced around the kitchen.

"You did all this by yourself?"

"It went fast," you assured him.

He looked down at you and shook his head in disbelief. "Everythin' was perfect, sweetheart," he said. "Don't know what I did to deserve you."

Tommy shrugged on his leather jacket while Maria draped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, lovebirds. We're gonna hit it. Congrats again and happy birthday, big brother," he said before tugging Joel into a bear hug while Maria gave you another kiss on your cheek. The pair of you walked them to the door, laughing about how drunk one of their buddies from work got and taking bets on whether he would be calling in on Monday. Then they jogged down the porch and the door finally swung shut, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since that morning.

You immediately spun around and snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

"I love you," you murmured, and he grinned before slipping his tongue past your lips. Your squeal was muffled when he lifted you off the ground and headed for the stairs. You slapped his shoulders, giggling and squirming until he put you down.

"You'll kill us both if you try to carry me up there," you told him breathlessly. He gazed down at you, dark eyes sparkling and smile stretched so wide, it almost hurt.

"See? That's why I'm marryin' you. You're so damn smart, baby."

You laughed and playfully pushed him away, then carefully walked backwards up a couple steps. "And why am I marrying you?" you teased, lifting an eyebrow.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, following after you with a devious smirk and a predatory look in his eye.

"Get to bed and I'll show you."

Joel couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you. You've blended into their lives so perfectly, it felt like you were always there. He was obsessed with you and he didn't even try to deny it if anyone caught him staring at you from across the room. The way you toss your head back when you laugh, the way your nose scrunches up when you take a sip of something bubbly, the sleepy way you snuggle into him early in the morning when his alarm goes off. All of it. Every single thing.

And, sure, the way his name sounds falling from your lips when he buries himself deep inside you is pretty incredible, too.

"Thought you'd gotten your fill this morning," you whispered in his ear, fingers combing through the curls on the back of his head, pressing him closer so your mouth could drag along his cheek.

"Never," he whispered back, and at the same time plunged into you once again. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, utterly consumed by the way your cunt stretched and pulsed around him, something that's happened countless times by now but never lost its allure.

"You... you feel so good," you moaned, head limply falling back into the sheets as his hips steadily rocked into you, building you up just to tear you back down. You gazed up at him, swollen lips parted, eyes half open, mesmerized by the fact he was going to be your husband. This beautiful man who looked at you like you held the meaning of life in your hands. Who loved you, cared for you, stood by your side through laughter and tears. Who taught you what it meant to be truly loved after your heart was shattered.

This was the man who was meant just for you, you never felt more sure about anything in your life.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust.

"Love you," he replied, his own focus growing hazy. He nipped at your jaw, kissed your throat, licked into your mouth, needing to taste and feel you everywhere. It was never enough. "Y'so beautiful, so perfect..." he mumbled in between sloppy kisses and sharp gasps. "Y'make make me so happy. I'll never stop lovin' you... shit," he groaned, eyes squeezing shut. You were close. He could tell by the way you trembled underneath him and clenched tightly around his cock.

He let his head fall to your shoulder, driving into you over and over until your legs shook and your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name. His mouth covered yours instantly, swallowing down your moans and whimpers, headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall until his own body jolted forward, stilling and pumping you full of his seed while he whispered brokenly against your lips how much he loved you.

"Fuck," he breathed, pressing his sticky forehead against yours, rolling it back and forth as you each fought for air. You occasionally pecked little kisses at his lips but you were too tired to do much else. You felt like you were melting into the bed, every single muscle loose and relaxed, eyelids heavy and sliding closed.

"I wear you out, baby?" Joel teased when he slipped out of you with a soft grunt. You nodded, breathing in deep when the mattress shifted and the heat from his body disappeared. A moment later you felt him gently spread your still shaky legs to wipe a wet washcloth between your thighs, giving your stomach a quick kiss before heading back to the bathroom. You vaguely heard the sink running, then the familiar sound of him brushing his teeth before the light switch flicked off and he joined you back in bed.

"I'll get up in a minute," you mumbled, turning to bury your face against his bare chest, left hand snaking around his waist, the cool metal of your ring pressing against his skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

"Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?" you asked with a yawn. He smiled and closed his eyes, blindly bringing your left hand up to his lips.

"Sure did."

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[tame-the-lion-writes]

FLUFF TIME!! (While I’m in class don’t mind me) Reader and her boys surrounding her, everytime she heads to bed the boys follow, and when she has to get up, they whine (Soap). Why is she leaving? Isn’t it cuddle/eepy time?? Whenever she has delivery and has to receive it at the door (and has to leave in bed) they whine but follow anyways.

9/10 chance one of them tugs her clothe towards the bedroom because they are eepy and want to sleeb and that means it’s also her sleeb time.

Imagine she to take work home and is in bed typing in her laptop at 1 AM (while the sound of the keyboard is luring them to sleep, the light is a bother). One of them just pushes the laptop close and softly borks (it is past eepy time)

(I, too, am currently in class as I write this, and should probably pay more attention because we're covering Fourth Amendment rights BUT ANYWAY—also combining this with another Anon’s ask bc they were talking about their German Shepherd getting them to bed on time lol)

The boys may be strange and chaotic, but they're always hell bent on taking care of you. And that often means forcing you to take care of yourself.

Before them, you were just barely clinging to life. Now that you were out of university, there was no rigid routine to keep you in line, so you kinda just... fell apart. An inconsistent sleep schedule with 2-3 hour naps in the afternoon, only to stay up 'til 4 AM. Skipping breakfast because some days, you'd wake up at 11. And on days when you did have breakfast, it would just be a leftover slice of cake or pie, because you didn't wanna cook.

Things have gotten much better since you adopted these weird floofsters, seen as you've finally set an alarm so you can walk them in the morning, and are forced to buy groceries on a regular basis. Still, that doesn't mean there aren't tougher days when you fall back into old habits. That's when the boys come to the rescue.

Nobody eats until you eat. It's like a pact between them—even Soap refuses, and he's the most voracious eater. Price also insists that you eat properly—even when you're picky, he'll refuse to budge unless you grab some fruits and veggies from the supermarket. And Gaz straight up sneaks snacks into your cart when you're not looking, so you only notice when you're already in the check-out line, and it would be rude to go back. They also tug on your clothes or nip you to get you to bed on time.

You’re allowed no more than seven hours of sleep minimum—and bed is, at latest, midnight. Whereas the other boys are more occupied with taking care of your daytime activities, Ghost, true to his breed’s instincts, herds you at night; he’s the first follow you out of bed if you try and sneak away, and he WILL stare creepily at you while blocking the doorway if you attempt to leave the room. The intimidation is extra effective in the dark and you see those reflective eyes peering out from the shadows. At first, you panicked and threw a blanket at him so he'd stop with his cryptid-ness. Nowadays, you throw the blanket over yourself, knowing he’s not gonna let you crawl back to your laptop.

You've tried to control his herding instincts by following tips on YouTube and Reddit, but it's like bargaining with a brick wall. Sleep—or else.

[rhenuvee]

Pretty Privilege [Alhaitham x reader]

A/N: not Alhaitham managing to sneak his way into my drafts for a third time, reader is from Kshahrewar, lovesick!Alhaitham (Alhaitham's a jerk to everyone but you, might be ooc), lowkey could connect to my other Alhaitham fics

Warnings: drinking mentioned but not alcohol, reader gets a little emotional if you squint (not used to affection)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Your boyfriend Alhaitham was... something else. You were new to the whole relationship thing, so adjusting to the dating life was something you had to get used to. What you still couldn't fathom were the "perks" Alhaitham has granted you, as his partner.

"Alhaitham, what is this?"

His roommate Kaveh stood with his arms crossed, looking at the scene before him: You were sitting on the couch, meticulously making your model of your project due soon. It was clear from your eyes that sleep wanted to overtake you, but of course you couldn't give in. But the worst part was Alhaitham, who was sitting next to you- though it was more like behind you by the way he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Kaveh is all for supporting your relationship, and on a normal day he'd treat you guys like friends (he'd never say that to Alhaitham). But in this situation, there was something particular irritating.

"...what do you mean." Alhaitham asks in a bored manner.

"It is almost midnight and you're still up."

"So?"

"So, you're usually asleep by at least two hours ago."

"And?"

"...You- You'd usually complain about something like this! How many times have you bashed me for working on my projects this late, and now you're here with (y/n) staying up! Nothing against you (y/n), you know I'd understand." Kaveh adds in the last part quickly, seeing as his complaint might seem directed towards the wrong person.

"All good." You reply robotically, yawning right after.

"Remember what you said a few weeks ago about the lows of Kshahrewar? I sure hope you have something to explain that and the spot you're in right now, particularly taking back what you said."

"Mhm, Kshahrewar is the best darshan..." Alhaitham mumbles halfheartedly in a monotone voice, almost nuzzling his head closer into your neck.

"...Somehow I don't feel satisfied with that." Kaveh sighs, arms loosening from their crossed position. It was clear that the Scribe didn't actually mean it, or at least was occupied with other things that made his answer seem insincere. The architect leaves, not finding any solution to the issue.

However, the obvious bias doesn't end here. Something similar happened the next week, except the victim wasn't Kaveh (for once). You were waiting in line at a restaurant near the Akademiya.

It sure gets busy during lunch time... You think. And even busier because of the special gift they were giving away…

"(Y/n)." A familiar voice calls to you. You look up from your daze and realize it's your boyfriend.

"Alhaitham, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, you start to feel pairs of eyes drift to your conversation.

"More like what are you doing here." He replies sharply. You internally giggle at your boyfriend's sassiness, but don't fault him because there is an abnormally long line this time.

"Well... they're giving away a free TCG card with their new sandwich." You say shyly. You feel a sigh coming from him for lining up for a little thing, but...

"Why don't you just ask the owner? I know him." He replies.

"...What do you mean, ask the owner? You mean just go up to the front?" You ask.

"Yes."

"-Alhaitham. I can't just do that, I can't cut in line." You stammer. You can't believe your boyfriend would actually condone this type of behaviour. He shrugs and walks off. You huff, thinking how sometimes you can't read him.

A few minutes later, you see him walk back with... a sandwich and TCG card in hand.

"Alhaitham." You cross your arms and look right at him. However, of course it doesn't intimidate him, as he just stares right back with the same deadpan eyes.

"Yes?"

You walk out of line, quickly pushing him until you both reach a less crowded area. Because you're behind him trying to shove him by his stupidly large torso, he secretly smiles at how cute you are, trying to take control of the situation and how you puff your cheeks out because of it.

"Alhaitham, you did not just go to the front and ask for the sandwich." You say, starting to scold him.

"I got the card too." He says, waving it. You tsk, snatching the sandwich and card out of his hand. He snorts at your slight frustration in his literalness.

"Alhaitham, you didn't have to. I could have waited in line like a normal person." You pout, trying to make him see the bad sides of his actions.

"The owner would have kept one for me anyway. And I wouldn't let you stand outside for so long. Especially with how heavy your bag is- don’t Kshahrewar students carry bricks?" He explains, sitting down on the stone.

"That's not really the problem..." You say, even though that last part was quite true. "Even though the owner kept one aside, the people in line who saw that would have felt really mad at you for cutting."

"Why should I care about what they think?"

"Alhaitham!" Sometimes you hate how quick and blunt his responses are. You sigh again. By now you already knew about your boyfriend's habits and how straightforward he thinks- and most of the time he is right. At least you know he had good intentions.

"Don't do it again, please?" You say, sitting and putting your hands on his chest. "At least not without asking me first."

"Okay, fine." He's willing to make compromises, especially when you look at him so dearly. You eat your sandwich in peace, giving Alhaitham a few bites here and there, and talk about things that happened today.

Buuttttt, it still doesn't end there. A couple months later, the semester ends and you decide to go out and have drinks with your friends. Alhaitham also mentioned he was going to be there with his friends, but he'd be at another table. It's a win-win, plus it's good to have him there for safety.

"And then, he just brushed everyone off! So I don't think I'd ever have a chance with him." Your friend says sadly.

"I don't think anyone has a chance with him." Another chimes in. You and your friends laugh at the wittiness, happy to be enjoying each others presence after a long semester of working and studying.

"I've seen him carry an anemo vision." You say from passing by him a few times.

"I've seen that too!" Your friend remarks, and the rest nod along. "He's probably very strong."

"I hope you guys have been enjoying your night!" A waiter says as he comes to the table. "Here are your bills."

The waiter hands your friends their bills, but doesn't hand you one.

"Excuse me! You didn't give me mine." You say quickly, before he leaves again.

"Oh! Your boyfriend has already paid for yours." The waiter says, pointing to his table, then heading off. Your friends coo at how sweet you guys were, and suddenly you have a sense of deja vu. After your friends pay their bills for the night, you immediately walk over to Alhaitham's table.

"Alhaitham."

"Yes?" Once again, you're hating how deadpan he sounds when you know he knows what you're about to say.

"You didn't have to."

"I did." You frown again.

"I'll be outside, saying bye to my friends." You say after sighing. Alhaitham nods, and his friends can only smile when they see another occurrence of him spoiling you.

"Why is it that (y/n) gets much better treatment from Alhaitham, yet also doesn't approve of it?" It's Kaveh's turn to pout now.

"I think it's more of 'acceptance' for them, and let's be honest I'd have a hard time accepting kindness from Alhaitham." Cyno says matter-of-factly. Tighnari's ears perk up at Cyno's blunt yet witty remark, while Kaveh can only grumble in agreement. Alhaitham, surprisingly has a small smirk on his face despite the little jab from Cyno. Kaveh's frown deepens.

"I need another drink." Kaveh crosses his arms. Tighnari and Cyno look at each other confused.

Alhaitham abruptly bids his goodbyes, walking off with a satisfied smile. He joins you and catches up, hearing that you've just said goodbye to your friends as well. After a few minutes of walking, Alhaitham breaks the silence.

"The boys think I've been treating you a lot better than them." He says. You turn and look at your boyfriend, a little surprised that he's starting the conversation this time. Usually when you have time alone, you're the one who starts talking. But you close your eyes and smile, taking this as a sign that he's had a good time- even if he won't admit it.

"It's because you do." You say. You’re surprised he brought this up. You're aware of Alhaitham spoiling you since your relationship started, and it has pushed you into a realm of affection you didn't know of. It's still hard to grasp for you, since it is your first relationship, and he makes you happy.

"Is there a problem with it?" He asks.

"...no." You say shyly. The question he asks has a bit more of a unsure 'no' for an answer than you say, but Alhaitham seems to catch on. "It's just hard to get used to."

"Hard to get used to? You deserve it though." Alhaitham says. And you almost want to cry the way you know he's being genuine, but the words feel foreign to you. He senses your emotions, and brings you to a stop, just a few steps away from his house.

"Alhaitham..." You can barely croak out a sentence. He gives you a soft kiss on your forehead, running his fingers near the spot, soothing you.

"And besides, what they don't know is that I do treat everyone fairly. Including you." He says. You cock your head in confusion. His statement sounds normal, but you can't help but think he means otherwise. "Remember your overdue library book? I did hold you accountable that time."

You quirk your head in confusion. You do remember that, and how panicked you were when you realized after he pointed it out. But you were certain he did not hold you accountable, which was terrible especially with his role in the Akademiya now.

"No you didn't." You remark.

"I did. I told you to give me a kiss."

"Wh- a kiss is a romantic thing, not transactional! You mean to tell me that was conpensation?" You sputter in disbelief. He nods, and you can't stay mad to him. "Alhaitham, you're so mushy-"

"I agree. Add insufferable to that as well." A voice interrupts. Your head snaps to the source, which is of course a mopey looking Kaveh. "Also remind me next time, to walk twenty meters behind you guys instead, when walking home."

You open your mouth to say something, but end up staying silent when you watch Kaveh drag himself inside your shared home. You frown, and Alhaitham looks at you, knowing what you're thinking- the same you've thought several times by now.

"Do not." He says abruptly.

"I will buy Kaveh a cake." You say, not paying attention to your boyfriend. You were aware of their bickering, but a lot of times you can’t help but feel bad for Kaveh. Since you’re in the mix now, you feel partially responsible for the privilege you get from Alhaitham- even on his good side, it’s hard to watch others get ignored by him.

"No."

"And a coffee."

"No."

"Yes." You childishly protest against your boyfriend’s lack of empathy (which he does on purpose) towards who’s supposed to be, his best friend. “Tomorrow I will go buy him a cake and a coffee.”

“He can get his own cake and coffee.” He says sarcastically.

“Yes, but I’m sure it’ll make him much happier if he received it as a gift.” You explain.

“You don’t have to.” Alhaitham says, this time with a little bit of softness. You smile, recognizing his efforts to try and persuade you because you know he doesn’t understand why you care about these things. But this time, you won’t waver.

“But I will.” You retort, walking towards the entrance and grabbing the doorknob. “Besides, you said you hold me accountable, won’t you?”

Alhaitham smirks at your cheekiness as you sway your hips when you walk to leave him standing by himself, a satisfied look on your face after referencing the past conversation. He sighs and shakes his head, thinking of how bold you’ve become. He likes it.

“Of course I will.”

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Me: I love Diluc, he is my husband.

Also me: *writes 3 long ass finished fics on Alhaitham*

[luveline]

hi jade! could i request a luna lovegood!reader x eddie munson blurb? maybe him feeling protective over her in a situation? thank you! congrats on 46k :)

You have a soft touch.  

“Hello,” you whisper, scratching your nails into the soft underside of your new cat’s chin, “hello, baby Teeby. You’re back.” 

“You gotta stop leaving the window open.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, scratching right where the cat wants it, his little black face twisting into your touch. “Really, Eddie, I don’t mean for him to get out, but you’re right, of course you are. I have to remember he’s here now. Anything could’ve happened when he got out.” 

He didn’t mean for you to take his reminder so hard. “Hey, it’s okay. I found him, didn’t I?” 

You hadn’t noticed the cat was gone. To an outside observer you seem irresponsible, but Eddie knows the details of the story. You opened the window to the bedroom to let fresh air inside, then someone knocked on your door and you left to answer while the cat escaped. 

You’re new to cats. You didn’t realise he’d be eager to leave, but luckily Eddie caught him scratching at the wall of your house trying to get back up again. No harm, no foul. A lesson learned. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, baby Teeby,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his head gently. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I’ll get you a screen for the window, alright? That way you can keep it open.” 

“You will?” 

“Babe, I love you. Getting you a screen for your window is the least I’d do, right?” He holds your cheek, kissing you while you’re not kissing the cat. Your lips are balmy, and you smell like lavender up close. 

“I keep forgetting he lives with me now, I just assume any noise he makes is my ghost upstairs.” 

“He seems like he’s settling in fine.” He means great. Baby Teeby couldn’t be happier, you’re a good match for one another, affectionate creatures with gentle dispositions. Teeby didn’t do much when Eddie grabbed him besides meow. “Do you like him?” 

“I love having company when I miss you, honey,” you say, catching his eye as you say that pet name. He never imagined somebody could look at him and think something sweet like that. 

“Yeah, but do you like him?” he asks with a laugh, nudging you over to squish next to you on the bed. 

“Obviously I like him, he’s gorgeous. His heart is beautiful. He reminds me of you.” 

“He’s not evil when my back is turned?” 

Your laugh is high-pitched from the suddenness of it, then everywhere. If you laughed like that in public you’d draw stares. “He sleeps on my chest like a baby, Eddie, he’s just like you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Alright, awesome, you like him, can you stop with the comparisons?”

The cat slinks from under your loving hand into Eddie’s lap. He looks up at Eddie, so different from you, rougher and louder, and he squints his yellowy eyes. 

“Hi, baby Teeby,” he murmurs. 

Teeby relaxes, tail unfurling against Eddie’s chest. 

“See, you’re twin flames. You’re like my two soulmates.” You tap his jaw with the flat of your fingernail. “Though he’s a little more handsome.” 

“I never shoulda got you the damn thing.” 

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

Hot water from the shower runs in snaking pathways over the bulky muscles of the lieutenant’s back as he leans himself against the wall, his forehead resting on the bit of his forearm that is propping his body up while his engorged cock is tightly locked in his clenched fist. Furiously he strokes the length with eyes closed and mouth agape, grunting deep and guttural the tighter he squeezes around that throbbing appendage as he desperately works to ease the ache that has kept him from getting sleep yet another night in a row. 

The military base is hunkered down for the evening, most of the personnel fast asleep as he should have already been, but his mind is too full of thoughts…thoughts if you… that sleep is unattainable at this point unless he does something about them. He knows the risk he’s taking doing this in a communal space, but he hopes that it’s late enough that no one will be around to disturb him until he’s done.

It’s been another long, rough day of having to watch you from afar but not touch, follow you with his dark, hungry eyes while knowing he will never get a chance to taste your sweetness, and he needs a release before he does something foolish. Never has another gotten under his skin the way you have, never has he struggled so hard to keep his desire from consuming him whole like he has to every single time you are near, and lately it is becoming near impossible. 

There's only so much that even a trained professional can take before all that self-discipline goes right out the window and he is reaching his limit with each passing week. If this keeps up he is bound to slip up somehow, you will notice, and he cannot let that happen. He can’t do another desperate sleepless night and be sane enough to face you again the next day, so here he finds himself. 

Behind closed eyes he recalls the images from earlier during training of you sparring with one of the other recruits. The way your body moved and contorted as you took down your opponent, the sweat that glistened and rolled in large drops down your chest and into the top of your shirt, the look of cocky determination in your eyes, and the heavy breaths you took through parted lips was enough to set him off something bad. His hands had to be firmly crossed over his crotch even after you had finished and walked off to hide the stiffy he was suddenly sporting so it wouldn't draw attention from any wandering eyes. 

God, the way he wishes it had been him that was pinned beneath you on that mat instead of the recruit that you took down and makes him stroke even more furiously. Why can't it be your sweet, soft pussy he is thrusting into instead of his rough palm? He’d sell his soul to Satan himself just for a moment spent in your bliss.

Lt. Riley braces his feet wider in the shower to steady himself as a wave of pleasure surges through his limbs and nearly knocks him over as he continues stroking. There is so much sloppiness in his rhythm now; he’s getting closer and soon he’ll be able to think more clearly… at least for a little while. 

“The things I'd do to ya, sweetheart,” he mutters to the vision of you in his mind’s eye, the need overwhelming every sense until he can’t see straight. “Fuck, I just want tha chance ta make ya come. I’d make bloody sure ya would only ‘ave eyes for me from then on.”

His teeth clench behind his parted lips as a bit of salty precum dribbles out of the tip of his cock only to quickly get washed away by the water raining down over him. Fucking hell, this is a problem that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight; this isn’t the first time he’s had to jack off to get a moment of peace and he knows that this will only be a temporary fix. There’s only one thing that can satisfy him for good, but it is the one thing he isn’t allowed to have.

At least he tells himself over and over that you’d never give him the time of day and so he keeps his agonizing distance. So, as the rest of the world around him slumbers, he has to do what he must to get by…and even though he thinks himself the only one awake and trying to work out demons under the cover of night, he couldn’t be more wrong.

At the other side of the barracks, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your room just as you’ve done for the past hour now. You have tried to relax your limbs, clear your mind, close your eyes, but no matter how hard you push yourself, sleep keeps evading your grasp. Why? You know the answer plainly even if you don’t really want to accept it. 

His eyes had been on you again today, Lt. Riley’s. That intense dark brown gaze that always makes your pulse race each time you catch it lingering had been plastered on you even before you stepped up to your sparring partner during training earlier. It was as if he was trying to bore a hole through your body the way he wouldn’t look away. The ache that settled itself in your core at his undivided attention nearly distracted you enough that you about lost the fight and now that you are lying in the dark with nothing to keep you occupied it’s all your desperate mind can focus on.

Does the lieutenant even know what his attention does to you? Would he care even if he did?

What would he think if he knew that just his gaze alone makes your body burn, how you can’t ever seem to get enough of the way you can so easily capture his focus, how it fuels all of your fantasies and daydreams until it’s impossible to be in his presence without your breath quickening and feeling that familiar ache between your legs? Goddammit, if you had your way you would have those eyes glued to yours as he thrusts inside and makes you his for the first time, but you know that’s not a possibility.  

No, it’s got to be pure coincidence, something entirely innocuous, a superior surveying the progress of one of his soldiers. He is the unofficial second in command around here, of course he would need to take account of those that are under him. You’d have to be a fool to think it’s anything more than that, that someone as experienced and weathered as him would ever go for an underling like you, but it doesn’t change how it makes you desperately want to get closer to the serious and intimidating officer.  

Why does the one thing you want have to be so fucking far out of reach?

Your heartbeat is starting to race again and your fingers are too sore to go another round down below, so you give up with a sigh of defeat and get up out of bed; if sleep isn't coming then there's no point in lying here to only get more frustrated that you can’t let those salacious fantasies go. 

Maybe a walk will tucker you out enough that sleep will stop avoiding you, at least it’s worth a try. Better than lying in the dark trying to stroke out the overwhelming thoughts, trying to imagine the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stretches you out. No, staying here is only going to do more damage. Slipping on some shorts with your tank top and grabbing your shoes, you head out of your room and begin your trek through the barracks headed towards the outside. 

You pass by the quiet rooms of your sleeping teammates, nothing but silence filling the halls that causes each soft step you take to sound louder than it should. Room after room passes by the same as the last as you make your way through the long stretches of hallway. All that's left is the showers coming up on your left, then the doors to the outside and you’ll be free to mosey about in the cool air while the music of the night gives you something else to focus on. 

But it isn’t the crickets, frogs, and other nocturnal animals outside that you hear now, nor is it those of the nightwatch making their rounds. It’s something else that grabs your attention.

The closer you get to the communal bathrooms, the more your ears pick up noise out of the stillness. At first it is only the distinct sound of running water hitting off the titles that cover the floors, but soon you catch the muted echo of a voice reverberating inside. Whoever is in there it sounds like they are in distress and curiosity gets the better of you. It's probably nothing, but it's best to check just to be sure. You'll pop your head in, make certain everything is alright, and then quietly leave without anyone knowing. 

Silently you creep up to the door and slowly creak it open so that the hinges won’t squeak and give you away just in case your worries turn out to be unfounded. The ambiguous noises become more clear and you realize it is the heavy masculine grunting of someone in the shower. It takes you a second to place why that sound is so familiar, but after a few seconds it finally clicks and you become embarrassed to have stumbled upon this private, intimate moment.

You move back from the door and almost let it fall closed when you catch the person inside saying something unexpected. Under the sound of the shower head running and heavy panting you swear that you hear the voice moan your name and instantly you are frozen in your tracks, unable to leave as planned.

You know that particular voice. 

Shit, you've heard it so many times over the course of your stay here that it is permanently burned into your psyche. The voice repeats the same and now you are sure that it is your name being moaned and a shiver runs up your spine. There is no mistaking it now that you detect that recognizable thick British accent. 

It's your lieutenant, that masked enigma himself, Simon Riley.

Instantly your cheeks feel like they are on fire as he repeats it again this time in more of a whimper. Is he really…? This has to be your overstimulated mind playing tricks on you. And yet there it is again, his deep voice grunting your name with more urgency as if he is intoxicated by the way that it rolls off his tongue and suddenly your head is spinning so that you aren’t immediately aware of what you’re doing.

Stop, you hear your inner thoughts swirl around the chaos inside your skull. What the hell are you thinking? Why are you going inside?

Even as you internally ask the questions, you can’t stop your feet that seem to have a mind of their own now and force you further inside the empty bathroom and over to the source of all those delicious sounds. The countless restless nights, the endless cravings for his presence that leave you desperate, the infinite amount of times you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him…your body needs this and it isn’t going to let you walk away until you see for yourself if this is real. 

If there is a chance…

The grunts come faster now as the lieutenant is about to blow when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. There is a shadow on the other side of the curtain that hadn’t been there before, a dark mass of a figure standing stock still just outside the thin plastic veil hiding him from the rest of the room. His blood runs cold, anger taking hold as he is forced to stop and confront whoever it is that has decided to disturb him with their presence. 

Who the fuck could be up at this time at night anyway and why now when he was nearly finished? He pulls back the curtain in one swift, irritated motion just enough to poke his head out and confront the bastard, but to his surprise who should be standing there then the one person he doesn’t need to come face to face with in this intimate moment. You stare back at him with wide eyes brightly shimmering in the fluorescent lighting overhead. 

“The fuck ya think you’re doin’?” he barks harshly, flustered by the awkward position you've found him in. “Do ya know what fuckin’ time it is? Ya should be down for tha night instead a skulkin’ about. I suggest ya get out and head back where you're supposed ta be.”

You hear the jarring response: should move, leave, follow his order, but you can't. The sight of the water glinting off his husky chest, beads of condensation sparkling through the light brown hair covering his sternum and down his abdomen, is too delicious a sight for you to pull your eyes from. You always knew that the lieutenant was a mass of muscle, it’s clear even through his bulky tactical gear, but to see it all in the flesh is another story. How are you meant to walk away from all that tantalizing, slick, heated skin?

Without even thinking, you step in closer. “I …don’t want to go.” 

“What?” The question comes out as a surprise.

You swallow. “I said I don’t want to go,” you reiterate.

You wrestle with yourself on what to do now that you’ve gotten here as he stares back at you in confusion, sensing how the air has suddenly seemed to shift all at once. Do you reveal the truth and tell him everything, including that you heard his desperate pleas? Will that be enough? Or do you do something else entirely? What if he rejects any advances just to save face? 

“What're ya…?” he starts to ask, only to lose the end of his sentence as you move in until the thin plastic curtain is the only thing keeping you apart. 

Screw it, you’ve come this far and that throbbing ache between your legs is ruling your actions now. This is a terrible idea, but that is the only type available at this time of night. Your heartbeat is in your ears as your gaze locks to his and your fingertips grab at the hem of your tank top to slowly drag it up over your torso and pull it off the top of your head. The skimpy bit of fabric hangs idly from your hand almost sweeping the floor as you stand there bare chested staring back at him. 

If this doesn’t make your intentions clear, then nothing will, and hopefully the temptation is enough to sway his actions.

Simon tries to inhale, but the wind has been knocked from his lungs and he can’t seem to get it back. Composure is his calling card and yet right now being in control isn’t an option anymore, not with the way you look like the most perfect treat he’s ever laid eyes on. He releases a shuddered breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. There is a heat in his chest and it’s spreading through his limbs like a wildfire, ready to consume all the common sense he has left. Watching that hardened man break gives you new found confidence and you find your voice amidst the dibilitating rise in your blood pressure.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you manage to say without faltering. “Not after what I just heard.”

Fuck, he really has been found out.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t take your eyes off of me, sir?” you continue, the truth spilling out like the water from the shower. “You might think yourself slick because of the mask, but I swear whenever we’re near each other I can feel your gaze lingering on me. It’s not the same one you give the others, this one is different… and do you know the worst part?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment even though Lt. Riley doesn’t even try to answer it; he can’t, he’s too overwhelmed. “The worst part is that I can’t get enough of it.”

The lieutenant’s vision is tunneled in on your sweet lips as he listens to your words, the desire to grab you and drag you to him spreading throughout his limbs at your confession. A few stray droplets of water drip down from the cropped tips of his dirty blond hair and hit the top of your shoes as he struggles to speak.

“This is a bad idea, luv,” he says as his final attempt to give you an out. “Ya should go ‘fore ya do somethin’ ya regret.”

You shake your head. “The only thing I’m going to regret is leaving. I can’t take another sleepless night. And it sounds like you can’t either.”

As you speak, you quietly slip your feet out of your shoes and toss your shirt haphazardly away and it crumples to a heap on the ground. “I need you… so bad. I can’t take it anymore. Please, don’t send me away.”

That’s it, all sense is completely gone as Simon Riley is no longer in control of his actions, not after hearing you plead for him to take you. Ripping open the curtain all the way, he silently pulls you into the shower and shoves you back into the tiled wall. Your big doe eyes peer up at him as the water mists from the showerhead above you and trickles off your eyelashes. 

He watches the droplets collect and sparkle like diamonds as they fall onto your delicate cheek, his bare chest heaving up and down laboriously with each panted breath as he takes in all he can now that he has the chance. His large hands glide over your arms as he truly contemplates the consequences of his actions, but there is no reprimand, no amount of punishment in this moment that can make him fight off the brunt of his attraction.

You stand in his presence only able to look on, mesmerized by finally being able to take in the enigma you’ve only rarely ever seen in bits and pieces and never this up close. Goddammit he’s handsome. All those stark, chiseled features, the light covering of brown stubble along his jaw, those brilliant eyes that are even more gorgeous now that they aren’t shadowed in his mask steal your breath away. Old, faded scars are speckled across his visage and trail down the length of his body, but even those take nothing away from his looks. 

Husky, bulked out muscles from years of hard physical labor, outline and glistening with water meet your gaze the further your eyes travel. The sheer girth of his body is enough to make your mouth salivate as you wait in anticipation for it to be molded into you, dwarfing yours in comparison. 

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long, luv,” he breathes as his sight drifts down to the beautiful pair of naked breasts nearly pressing into his chest, bringing you back from your supor as you admire. “I need to hear ya say it, that I can ‘ave my way with ya.”

Anything, you’ll say anything to break that short, agonizing distance between you. “Fuck me,” you say, lips left parted as you wait for him to take the lead and break the tension.  

There is a ringing in his ears as if the entire world has suddenly fallen silent as the brunt of his suppressed desire floods immediately to the surface, overwhelming everything in a blink. Without a word he urgently cups both of his palms around either side of your head just behind your ears, thumbs resting along your jaw so that he can draw your face to him as he leans down into your face. He has to kiss you now; the need is suddenly so strong it’s like he is choking on it. You barely have a second to take a breath before he crashes his lips on your own.

He captures those soft bits of skin over and over again in desperately feverish waves, stealing the balmy air from your mouth to sustain the connection so that he doesn’t have to break it just yet. The last thing he wants to do is destroy this overwhelming magnetism that draws you both together and by your way you grab onto the meat of his hips to pull him tighter to you, he knows you feel it too.

Has anything ever felt more euphoric than the way your full, soft pout feels? Has anyone ever tasted as sweet, has he ever been more instantly hooked on the sensation of someone else’s mouth pressed to his? He can’t remember anymore. There is nothing else outside of you in this desperate moment. 

Releasing your face, his rough fingertips follow the curve of your spine down to roundness of your ass where he grabs handfuls to massage. So absorbed in your taste, the feeling of your lips, the heat of your breath, that it takes minutes for him to realize that there is still a barrier between your bodies: the shorts now damp from the shower still hopelessly clinging to your hips. They have to go as they are very shortly going to get in the way.

“Wanna get these fuckin’ things off,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls the fabric down, miserably removing his mouth from your own so that he can help you step out of them. They are quickly tossed past the shower curtain and before they even can hit the ground he is harshly pressed back against you once again to steal your mouth and devour your kiss. 

Your moistened bodies slip across each other as the pressure builds and the movements become more desperate, him pushing his hardened cock into your pelvis as he grinds against you and shoving a thick thigh between your parted legs to give you something to hump. He fills your mouth with a muffled groan as the silky lips of your pussy connect with the skin; it’s better than he could have ever imagined it feeling and he cannot wait to get inside and be constricted by your walls squeezing around him, but there’s a little more he has to explore first.

Patience, he’s going savor this moment like it’s the only one he’ll ever get.

“Tha’s it,” he encourages in a short burst, trailing his lips down to your jaw towards your throat as you roll your hips hard to catch your clit on the muscle. “Fuck, ya do need it bad, don’t ya? I wanna hear it, tell me how bad you’ve needed it, luv.” 

Those hungry lips reach the side of your neck and start to suck, puckering the skin into his mouth and you struggle to remember how to talk through the sensitivity hazing your thoughts. “Everytime I have to see you… f-fuck…  can’t sleep. Have to keep … uuughh… t- touching myself for relief.”

His mouth continues to trail lower and lower down the contours of your body, leaving warm, moist kisses along the skin of your collarbone and over the side of your chest. “Keep going,” he orders.  

You gulp down another moan as his burning lips lock to your breast, suctioning to the areola while that agile tongue flicks over the very tip of your nipple until it’s stiff. God, your tits are like heaven, so soft and juicy as they fill his mouth.  His hand palms over the other breast and begins to play; he won’t leave that one to not receive any attention.

“Can’t…focus,” you stammer, “can’t think of anything except you. Begging into the dark for you…to take me…to make me yours.”

“Think ‘a my cock a lot, luv?” he asks amused as he switches sides and takes the other breast into his hungry mouth.

The heat in your face makes your cheeks feel swollen. “I…do,” you admit as if you both aren’t already naked and humping each other. 

“Wonderin’ what it would feel like?”

“Wanting it inside me,” you add.

His hand leaves your chest and moves between your bodies to grab yours and bring it down to wrap around the girth of his shaft. “It don’t ‘ave to be a mystery anymore, sweetheart.” 

Goddammit, he’s big. You’d barely had time to register the look of it before his mouth was plastered to yours and though you can feel it grinding into you, now that it is in your fist it makes your breath hitch. “F-fuck…” you moan as your hand slides up and down the length.

Simon’s cock twitches as if in response to the ache in your voice and you can feel its heartbeat. The thrill to know you have a strong grip on such a man as the lieutenant, that it is you he wants, it’s you he needs, that his cock is hard just for you makes you grind against him with eyes closed trying to make yourself come.  

“Gonna stuff ya full,” he groans from the pressure you apply as you continue to work him. “Stretch out your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

The steam billows around your conjoined bodies, condensation enfolding you in a layer of mist as if you’re stuck in a dream when he finally emerges hastily from your chest with lips puffy and red from the suction. He rips your hand from around him as the pressure has almost reached the point of no return and aggressively he picks you up as if you weigh nothing; he’s stronger than you realized to be able to lift you almost effortlessly. 

“Put your legs ‘round me. Now,” he barks sharply and you do as you’re told. He braces your back up against the wall for leverage as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and his sight drifts down between your bodies. 

“Ready for me?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. 

A nod is all he is going to get, the inside of your mouth tasting like copper as you bite your cheek to keep quiet as his swollen tip slips through your petals to find the opening, rubbing up against your swollen clit. Your slick coats his cock, a clear sign that he’s good to go. It takes him only a moment with a slight adjustment of his hips to align with his target.

“Deep breath, sweet girl,” he says as he raises his gaze to peer back into your eyes and with a thrust the fat tip pushes through the threshold of your aching, throbbing core, stretching it wide as it takes him in.

Instantly you choke on the moan that stuffs your mouth full and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep it from escaping. The lieutenant does the same, but you can feel the bass vibrate through his chest as his steel-like grip digs harshly into your waist.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says breathily through a lustful chuckle, fighting off the urge to blow his load before he’s even gotten all the way in, “but ya can take more, can’t ya?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time and again he thrusts past the tip down his veiny shaft and reaches the base. You can’t hold it in anymore, the way his cock fills you so full makes you lose yourself. Eye closed, you can’t stop the loud moan that you let out and the sound reverberates off the walls of the cramped space until it is amplified. To think you were ever going to satisfy yourself with only your fingers when all of this was waiting for you to discover seems almost comical now.  

The lieutenant’s large hand rushes to cover over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me. Don’t need anyone comin’ in and ruinin’ this. I’m not done with ya yet, luv; gotta make ya come for me first.”

The shine in your glazed-over eyes gives him your answer and he removes his hand with a nod as he knows an even better solution to keep you quiet. He leans back in and his lips pull yours into their secure embrace before he risks slipping in his tongue to wrestle with yours; can’t make much noise with your mouth so full.  

There’s no way he is going to calm down enough now to stave off his orgasm for much longer and so with your mouths connected he starts to thrust, dragging himself nearly out of your core before slamming back up into you. Every thrust strikes up into your pussy shoving him in as deep as he can get, your body shaking from the force as your back is dragged up and down along the wall. The moisture on the walls keeps the friction low so you can move easily with his percussive hits into your body.

So fucking wet, so goddamn tight, how is he meant to not fall apart? Simon can’t help rutting into all that goodness like an animal hell bent on capturing every bit of pleasure he can. Lost in the feeling his rhythm wavers, but breaking from your mouth and taking a few deep breaths he gets himself right back on track. As he bucks wildly up into you your arms hold on tightly around the back of his neck and you notice how the muscles tense with each of his strong thrusts. 

“Need ya ta come for me… need it so goddamn bad…” 

There is no hiding the desperation in his words. He has to know that your body belongs to him now, that after tonight you won’t ever even think of straying from him. You’re his, his, and after all the agony he’s endured before getting here, he has to make sure of it. 

That burn deep in the muscle starts to shoot through his thighs, but he doesn’t slow and the more he works the more that warmth gathers in the pit of your stomach. You’ve dreamed of moments like this for so long it becomes overwhelming: the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock buried deep inside you, his honeyed words conveying everything you’ve wanted to hear; it’s euphoric.

You whimper and quickly breathe it out. “Fuck, gonna come.” 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Almost there,” he coaxes, secretly knowing that at any moment he is going to come too. “Jus’ let go and come for me. Let me feel it, pretty girl.” 

It’s there, it’s so close. That sweet release is within reach. “A-ah…fuck… almost there…”

“My good girl,” he grunts, “come on my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as the pleasure builds until all at once, like the flick of a switch, your core contracts and all of that intensity explodes in a blast of warmth that flows through your limbs. Leaning forward, you bury your face in his shoulder and whimper as you ride out that wave of ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans behind clenched teeth at the feeling as your core constricts around him, sending him over the edge. 

Wrenching his cock out as fast as he can, he angles it up between your bodies. You regain some composure, enough to instinctively reach for it to stroke him the rest of the way through. His hot, milky cum dribbles onto your stomach in short bursts while his upper body twitches as you work out all you can. Finally, he falls in against you and places his hand on top of yours to force you to stop.

The sound of the running water conceals the sound of your combined breathing as you both come back down from that high and he can set you back on your feet carefully. Back on solid ground you both just stand there quietly taking in the moment and all that just happened until the lieutenant breaks the silence.

“Think you’ll be able ta sleep now?” he asks as his fingertips caress over the heat in your cheeks.

You nod with a smile spread across your lips. “But I’m not sure about tomorrow night,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Might be up again.”

Biting his lip he tilts his head away as he tries not to show how much it excites him to hear you say that, rubbing his hand over his head to slick back his short hair. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Right now, though, I got a mess ta clean up.”

There is one last, deep kiss waiting for you before he gently pulls you under the showerhead to wash away the evidence of what happened here tonight. As he watches the water run down off your delicious curves and flow down the drain, he realizes that this is going to become an even bigger problem than he had before… but fuck is he ready for it.

[notjustjavierpena]

Happy Birthday, Joel

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy outbreak day— I mean, happy birthday to Joel Miller!

Summary: You have snuck out to have birthday-morning-sex with Joel. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, they are so in love, birthday sex, morning sex, Daddy kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, cowgirl, dirty talk, blowjob, come swallowing 

Word count: 2.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59232835

Happy Birthday, Joel

A window in the bedroom has been cracked. The fresh autumn wind seeps into the room each time it blows over the house, changing the air to something that doesn’t smell like hazy sleep but forces Joel to be awake with you. None of you feel cold though because you are sitting comfortably in Joel’s lap on his wide bed. He has his back against the headboard and a dazed look on his face, bare-chested, beautiful, and propped up against a pillow because you have woken him up like this. 

His calloused hands are on your thighs that are on each side of his body, kneading the flesh gently while murmuring about nothing in the soft pitch that he only has saved for you. He talks quietly and groggily about the weather, the work he has to do on his porch come autumn, but mostly about how good you look on top of him right now, too good to be real, and makes you giggle when he jokes about this being a dream. 

You lean forward to let him feel the softness of the wooly fabric of your oversized sweater brush against his chest, resulting in it slipping off your shoulder. You threw it on just before you tiptoed out of the door, didn’t even bother with pants because you were going straight to the car that no one told you that you could borrow. The sleeves drape past your wrists, tickling his neck and cheek as you touch his jawline. 

“Happy birthday,” you say with an affectionate smile, scratching his scruffy beard with your fingertips. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with sleep, his hands moving slightly on your thighs as if he is deciding how to touch you. You have heat building in your belly, desire making its way through your veins. He chooses to reach up to grip the neck of your sweater, “Sneakin’ over here like this.”

“I’ll be kind enough not to ask how old you are now,” you add to earn a low chuckle, not wanting to entertain the disastrous what-ifs that roam around in his head. Joel yanks at the neck of the sweater, exposing your already bare shoulder even further. He connects his mouth to your impossibly soft skin there, his beard scratching you lightly as he trails his mouth up a path on your shoulder. He kisses every inch he can get to without undressing you fully. 

“Good girl,” he teases back at you, nosing along your neck with his voice vibrating against you, “Don’t needa remind me that I’m old.” 

“You’re not old. You’re perfect,” you cradle his head in your hands, threading your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighing towards the ceiling. He might think that this - you - is a bad idea but the way his lips feel on your body, the way he puts his whole being into touching you and kissing you like he is starving for you, tells you one thing: Joel Miller cannot stop wanting you. No matter the consequences, no matter the guilt, and no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. 

“Joel,” his name falls from your mouth like a plea, breathless and light as you grip him tightly, “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

“You’re stealin’ my line,” he gives you one last kiss on the column of your neck and smiles up at you. His hands go down your body again, giving you time to suck in a deep breath. However, it’s doomed to not last and your breath hitches in your throat as he slips his palms up under your sweater. His warm fingers skim over the small of your back and up the curve of your spine.

When he lifts your sweater up and off your body, you do not protest even if you are completely bare underneath it. His gaze is on yours with adoration for a moment of not wavering once before he takes the opportunity to look down at your exposed chest. 

Your nipples have hardened at the slight chill, your arms squeezing your breasts together a little with how you still rest your hands on his neck and shoulders.  He places a palm just above your belly button and runs it up your body, skimming it over your breast to make you tremble in his arms. He lets his hand descend again, this time with a knuckle brushing over your nipple. You visibly shiver, chewing on your bottom lip as he worships you silently. 

“Is my doll cold?” He drawls, voice thick like honey, and your thoughts start to blur at the nickname. 

“No, Daddy,” you tell him and it’s the truth; you are burning from the inside out at how much your heartbeat is racing nowhere in your chest, having moved south long ago to soak your panties through to his boxers.

“By the way, you weren’t right,” he brushes your jaw when his free hand reaches for your chin to pull you towards his mouth. His thumb dances over your bottom lip, “I know exactly what I’m doin’ to ya, babygirl.”

You give the finger a gentle kiss, parting your lips to allow him to feel your tongue if he wants but when he doesn’t move, you slip out your tongue just a peek to teasingly lick his thumb as an imitation of how well you suck his cock. He smirks at that, letting his thumb go inside the heat of your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to test you, whispering how good you are for him as he does it. 

Underneath you, his cock has gone from half-soft to fully hard in mere seconds, pressing insistently against your core. He might think he is old but this part of him shows no proof of that. You dare move your hips back and forth once, dragging your wet underwear over the length of his erection. 

He groans alongside you but your sound is obscene in comparison, escaping around his digit in your mouth. The friction against your cunt is delicious, so much so that the fabric between your thighs has started to cling to you. 

“Give Daddy some sugar. It’s his birthday,” he commands with his hips bucking up, not being able to help how his body craves you first thing in the morning. His thumb slips from your mouth, dragging a string of spit down your chin in its wake. He curls both hands firmly around your waist again, pulling you flush against him so he can move you deliberately on his dick and watch your tits bounce. 

He guides you slowly over his thick length with ragged breathing, staring at the quick rise and fall of your chest when your clit gets the attention it desperately needs. You grip his shoulders and arch your back at the way pleasure rips through you, and though your cunt might feel empty, you feel everything start to build already just behind your clit. 

“That’s it, look at you, this my birthday present? Jeeesus, you look amazin’, look at those tits,” he praises breathlessly, throbbing against the damp fabric that separates the two of you. He dares grip your hips even harder, his fingers digging into the plump skin of your ass, and pull you down harder on him. 

Your moans grow in volume, your eyes fluttering closed as heat racks up your spine from the small of your back when tension starts to build. It pulls the coil tighter and tighter inside of you and causes you to whimper, the noise making Joel’s cock twitch underneath you. 

“Tell me, baby,” he groans and you dread the command that might come because you can’t think right now. One of his hands slips up your back to make sure you don’t fall off of him. Your clit is pulsing on the edge of release, knowing that it doesn’t need much more before you’ll explode, “Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay?”

You hate him for it but still nod anyway, unable to speak for a moment, your breath only consisting of tiny gasps as you ride the edge of your impending orgasm. Still, with your eyes squeezed shut, you manage to speak just a few, barely incomprehensible words, “I’m gonna— I’m so close, Daddy.”

But before you can finish, before that final moment where your brain shuts off to feel your cunt spasm, Joel has halted your movements by holding your hips still. You whimper, trying to keep going because the pleasure is still there just out of reach, but his grip is unyielding and his disapproving tone is condescending. 

“Stop, not yet. We do it Daddy’s way on his birthday,” he commands and nearly ignores the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Not until I’m inside of ya, baby.”

You whine in response, knowing that he is right. It’ll be much better with him buried in your pussy but your mind is so clouded and delirious with the need for release that it is nearly painful how he is holding your orgasm hostage by gripping your hips like he is. 

“Please,” you say with a tear slipping from your eye.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m goin’ to let go now,” he replies, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and leaning up to peck your lips, “But I need ya to be patient. I can’t have my good girl act so bad just for her pussy to feel good.” 

His hands move swiftly to drag his boxers down, settling the waistband just beneath his balls to cut down on the time he’ll be without touching his special girl. The anticipation drives you crazy, a desperate moan leaving you as your hips start to twitch on their own accord. You let out a little moan, brows furrowed as you search for any type of friction. 

“Nooo, just a few more seconds, sweetheart,” he says and drags the word out in the same tone he would use with a puppy causing trouble. He digs his fingers underneath the front of your wet panties to pull them to the side, exposing your swollen pussy to the air in the room. You look down with him, watching how he positions the head of his cock between your folds. 

“Lift yourself up a little— that’s it,” he guides you, shuddering underneath you as you greedily sink down on his length. You should probably have gone slower, a feeble noise escaping your open mouth as you suddenly feel so full of him. There’s a mixture of relief and regret in you as it stings a little to have your soft walls stretched by him, the sensation enough for you to nearly drive you over the edge instantly. 

You exhale shakily, gripping around his cock tightly when you are seated in his lap. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks, framing his face while you kiss him on the mouth after getting used to him inside of you. There’s only slight movement, a gasp here and there, a twitch of Joel’s cock inside of your wet cunt. 

You move a little to find that your clit brushes against his pelvis, and while capturing his mouth in a searing and desperate first proper kiss of today, you start moving your hips instinctively. Hearing the low, guttural moan that tumbles from Joel’s mouth in response is enough to spur you on. 

You feel his hands move up your back and around your front to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples while you ride him as if your life depended on it. He says your name in a half-chuckle and half-moan, tries urging you to slow down, but you are lost in the way he feels when he fucks you. 

“I love you,” he decides to say instead of something close to a scolding, pulling you out of your trance. You stare down into his eyes that are glazed over with desire, whimpering at the head of his cock brushing that little spot inside of you that has you hurtling towards your orgasm. 

“I love you too, Daddy,” you say softly, blinking down at him. He grabs your arms as they rest on his shoulders, pulling them from their place so he can entwine your fingers on both hands. 

“No-no, no Daddy,” he says with a ragged breath, glancing briefly down at where you are connected and angling his hips to make it easier for you to grind against him. Your moans climb in pitch and he places your hands on his chest, “Just Joel right now. C’mon, lemme hear you say it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you give him a hazy smile and rest your forehead against his.

“Good girl,” he whispers and then grabs your hips again. He starts to move beneath you, slow and steady in contrast to your youthful need of going hard and fast, his hips rolling smoothly and with no urgency. You struggle with it at first but he growls at you, holding you tighter than before and it feels like you might bruise if you disobey him. He guides you, controls you, steering you as you ride his leaking cock while your clit gets just the right amount of pressure. 

“Joel,” you gasp, starting a sentence but barely knowing where to go with it at the feel of him filling you up over and over.

“My perfect girl,” he replies. You make him groan when you drag your fingertips through the hairs on his chest, scratching desperately as the tension between your legs starts building again. 

It’s not long before you are teetering on the edge again, whining so loudly that people might be able to hear you through the window. Joel is right behind you, panting as the muscles of his strong thighs strain to make him pound up into you. 

You hold on for dear life, crying out his name as everything becomes too much, and your orgasm tears through you without mercy. Each ripple of pleasure has you feeling delirious, drunk on the feeling of getting pounded through the intoxicating spasms around his generous size and he fucks you all the way through your aftershocks. But even as it fades, he doesn’t stop moving in his quest for his own release, doesn’t want to stop before he has had his fill. He keeps the pleasure in your body burning as he continues spearing you repeatedly and it becomes hard for you to figure out where your orgasm begins or ends. 

You don’t know when you’ve started giggling in post-orgasmic bliss between feeble whimpers, bouncing in his lap as every nerve in your body is on fire, but you eventually start babbling ridiculously between gasps, “I can’t— Joel, I— Let me suck you off.”

Joel curses at your suggestion, his hips faltering for just a moment before he finds the willpower to stop his thrusts completely, “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

“I would never,” you say sweetly, making sure that your words drip from your lips like honey. You push down on his chest to slide off of him, a noise leaving you as his cock slips from your dripping, used pussy. You move shakily down between his legs, pulling the covers a little to the side to make room, “Especially not on Daddy’s birthday.”

You can see how close he is by the blush on his chest, how much he is holding back, and you decide not to waste any time. You wrap your hand around the base of his soaked cock and lower your head enough to place a wet kiss on the head, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck,” he groans when you take him fully into your mouth afterward, bobbing your head with a hum and hollowing your cheeks. He is a treat, tasting sweet of you and slightly bitter of his own precome, “That’s it, princess, you fuckin’ know how to suck Daddy’s cock.”

You moan around him as a way of confirming the truth of that statement. Then you hear his head bump against the wall, the picture above the bed moving from side to side, and suddenly, hands are in your hair to guide you up and down on his length. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to focus on the taste and feel of him on your tongue. Your hand moves to cup his balls, your mouth stretching around him and moving downward until he hits the back of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna come,” he pants, his lower belly jumping with each ragged breath. You prepare for the moment he lets go, opening your eyes again to look at his stunning face when he gives it to you. His hand tightens in your hair, “You want Daddy’s load, huh? Wanna— oh shit, you wanna swallow it up?”

You hum. With a deep, guttural groan of relief, Joel comes in your mouth and his hips twitch while he does it. He spills on your tongue in thick, hot, and salty ropes of white, throbbing obscenely while you swallow down what doesn’t mix with your spit and spills down your chin. 

You keep him in your mouth until he has stopped shuddering from his orgasm, eventually pulling off of him with a wet pop. You rest your head against his hip, staring up at him lovingly, “Happy birthday, Joel Miller.”

“You little minx,” he chuckles, running a hand over his hair as he tries to catch his breath, “You had that planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”

And maybe you did.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[harksness]

A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)

also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT

Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.

WC: 2.1k

Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.

Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.

Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.

“Hey, even hotter stuff.”

She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.

“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”

She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.

“Well I could say the same thing to you.”

Again, she snorts.

“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”

Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.

You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.

“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.

“You look stressed, my love..”

Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.

“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”

You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.

Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.

“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”

You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.

“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”

As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”

She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.

You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.

Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”

She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.

“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”

You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 

“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”

You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.

Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.

She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.

“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”

She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.

“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”

You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.

Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.

You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.

“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”

She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.

“Good fuckin girl.”

Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.

You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 

You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 

She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.

“Fuck, baby..”

Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.

“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”

Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 

You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.

“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”

You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.

“Say it again.”

Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.

“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”

You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”

She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.

“Ooooh.. Yes..”

Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.

She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.

Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.

A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.

With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 

“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”

She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.

“I’m always happy to be good for you.."

You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

twenty-two — i did it for you wc: 0.9k

there was nothing like the sweet, sweet bliss of fresh air amidst a college party. it was who you found in that fresh air, that made you want to turn around and walk back inside.

a face you haven’t seen for weeks.

the face of the girl who betrayed you.

giselle.

she didn’t see you right away, to engrossed in thought of whatever seemed to be bothering her, hidden behind a tail of cigarette smoke.

it was only after you’d turned your body in preparation to leave that she noticed you, her words stopping you in your tracks.

“you not having fun?” she asks.

you turn back around and she offers you her cigarette, which you politely refuse.

“i am..” you reply, “just needed some air.”

“ah.” she drops the cigarette to the floor, stomping it out with the toe of her heels. “sorry.”

you furrow your brows at her nicety. what’s the point in being nice now, after everything she had done to you?

as if she’s read your mind, she speaks up. “look yn, about Y..”

“you mean jaehyun? you can say his name giselle, i wont start crying.” you snap, and she flinches in shock.

“you know?” she asks, surprised.

but you’re even more surprised at her question. she seems eerily calm about the fact that Y was infact jaehyun. why was she more shocked about the fact that you knew? unless…

“you knew?” you question.

her head hangs in defeat.

she knew the whole time?

“giselle?”

she looks back up at you.

“i knew.” she whispers. “but yn-“

“it’s just one thing after the next with you.” you say, sighing, picking yourself up to go back inside.

but she stops you.

“i did it for you.”

huh..?

“what?”

“sleeping with him. i did it for you.”

you feel the need to bang your head incessantly against a brick wall in attempt to understand what the hell she means.

“oh so you slept with my ex bestfriend behind my back… all for me????” you feign adoration sarcastically, “awww giselle you didn’t have to.”

“yn! i’m serious!”

your smile falters as you notice a change in giselle a demeanour.

she’s telling the truth.

“what do you mean you did it for me?”

“remember when you got that message from Y saying ‘i’m over you.’?” she says.

“yes…”

“that night, i bumped into jaehyun on my way to the bathroom and uh, he looked upset.”

you’re confused.

“upset? what about?”

“you.”

you let her continue. “he was drunk, and so i asked him what was bothering him, not actually caring, just hoping i could yk, find out something interesting. and boy… i did…”

“he told you he was Y, didn’t he.”

“yeah… and look yn, i rlly wanted to go straight to you and tell you. but all i could think about was how you would feel if you found out that the one person in the world you hated the most ended up being Y. i knew that you would feel so embarrassed and hurt and i just really couldn’t stand to let you find out like that, not after everything he did to you and not after everything Y had said to you. i knew you were excited about it, i couldn’t stand to see you be let down.”

your eyes look down to the floor, trying to figure out what she’s trying to say. but she continues.

“so, drunk out of my mind, all i could think about is that he needs to get over you before you find out. i thought i could do something.”

“so you slept with him?”

“so i slept with him.”

wow.

you don’t know how to feel.

you have to admit, giselle’s drunken attempt at being a good friend to you was quite frankly stupid and albeit it insanely dumb, but her intentions shocked you.

“i didn’t think of the repercussions, i didn’t think of how you would feel when you found out about it. but i knew that id rather have you hate me than have your heart broken by the fact that Y was jaehyun. so i let you hate me. i wanted you to hate me, if it made you happy.”

just like how jaehyun did, you think to yourself. she had chosen your own feelings over hers.

“giselle…”

“i don’t expect you to forgive me, what i did was stupid. because you know now anyways.”

you don’t know how to tell giselle that whatever she did, worked. that jaehyun really is now over you, that Y isn’t him anymore. because something makes you reluctant to admit that she ended up being right.

“you really did all that so that jaehyun would get over me before i found out he was Y?”

“yeah, stupid right.”

you laugh, and she laughs too.

she’s right, it was stupid. and to you, her reasoning makes no sense, but to know that she didn’t purposefully betray you makes you feel a little better.

like jaehyun, she let you hate her so that your suspicion wouldn’t falter.

but you really can’t forgive her.

because, unlike jaehyun, she knew it was him she was sleeping with.

you sigh. “it’s too complex.”

she nods. “i’m really sorry.”

you smile, “see you around?”

“see you around.”

but you won’t. not tomorrow, not next year.

not ever.

mlist — next

notes; sorry to those of u who thought Y 2.0 was giselle 😢😢😢 but i wonder why yn and gigi won’t be friends ever again 🤔🤔🤔🤔 hmmm suspicious 🤔🤔🤔🤔 oh yeah btw tmrs chapter is the big Y 2.0 reveal😁 sleep well!

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[demonsslayersstuff]

Almost Kissed (Levi x Reader)

A/N: Trying another AOT character because this man is fineeee lol. Anyway just short fic about the four times Levi almost kisses you and the one time he finally does. Gender neutral reader, slight mentions of blood, but nothing too gory.

The First Time:

Levi feels an unfamiliar pit in his stomach as he watches you hug your fellow comrade. He can't quite place the feeling, its something he's never felt before. Is this jealousy?, he thinks before he pushes the thought away. He was Levi Ackerman, he had nothing to be jealous about. But as he watches your movements he feels a twinge of something. It's almost as if he wanted to be the person you were holding. Levi watches as the man moves his hands to your waist and that's when he's had enough. No man was allowed to touch you that way, no man except him.

"Enough", Levi states in his usual serious tone. "We have more important things at hand", he continues. You and your squad look towards the captain. Levi walks toward you, without thinking his hand moves up towards you, before it falls onto your shoulder. What the hell was that? Levi thinks to himself. Trying to find composure he simply swipes away a bit of "dust" off your uniform. "Tch, clean your uniform", he tells you. "Yes sir", you mumble confused by his actions. The air between you two feels heavy, something felt off, but before you have a chance to question anything, Levi steps away from you. "Dismissed, go get dinner", he tells your group.

With a chorus of "Yes sir", he watches as you and your squad walk away. Levi sighs deeply, confused at his own actions. Had he really almost tried to kiss you in front of your squad? Levi forces his thoughts away, as he heads towards his office, he had more important matters to attend too.

The Second Time:

You and Levi find yourselves a top the wall looking out at the open land after meeting with Erwin, going over plans for a scouting mission. "Do you ever think it will end?", you ask as the two of you continue to look over the wall. "What will end?", Levi questions back.

"This, all of this. The wall, the war with the titans, do you ever think we will ever be free?", you say before turning to look at him. Levi sighs deeply. "I find it best to not dwell on the unknown" he simply replies. "Why am I not shocked by your response", you mumble. Levi turns to look you, noting the sad look in your eyes. "It's ok to have hope", he tells you. You look over at him, watching the way the wind ruffled his hair, strands falling across his eyes. Before you can stop yourself you reach up and brush it out of his face.

More surprisingly Levi doesn't stop you, he freezes as he feels your finger tips lightly brush against his forehead. You let your hand fall down his cheek slowly and he finally reacts. Levi moves his own hand to lightly grip your wrist. You think he's going to remove your hand, but instead he keeps it firmly in place. You feel his thumb trace the curvature of your inner wrist. You step closer towards him, but then you hear a familiar bell, the sound bringing you both back to reality. You step back with a slight cough. "Well, I uh, I should be going, need to complete some training", you say stumbling over your words.

Levi says nothing, watching you head back down the wall. If that bell hadn't rung he would have kissed you, he was sure of it.

The Third Time:

It was late as you walk down the now empty halls, sleep was hard for you to get that night, so you figured a walk would help relax your mind. What you didn’t expect was to run into Levi Ackerman as you turned down another corridor.

“What the hell are doing up right now?”, he asks gruffly as he takes note of the bags under your eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, it’s late even for you”, you reply. Levi doesn’t respond, just lets out a familiar “Tch”. “Well if that’s all, I’ll be going now”, you tell him turning to head back to your quarters. “Wait”, he calls with a softer tone, one that you rarely hear. You turn and look at him, eyebrow raised in question. “Would you like some tea? It might help calm you”, Levi states. You ponder a moment, before you nod your head, accepting his proposal.

Your agreement leads you to where you are now, seated in a chair in Levi’s office, sipping tea in comfortable silence. After thanking him for the tea, you’d made no effort to strike up a conversation, knowing that both you and Levi don’t like to talk about the true meaning behind the lack of sleep the two of you’ve been having. The comfort of being in each other presence was enough to help keep the demons in your mind at bay.

It’s not long before the warmth of the tea fills your body and rhythmic shuffling of papers from Levi begins to lull you towards sleep. A few minutes later Levi looks up to see your sleeping form. A part of he wants to order you to go back to your chambers, but another side of him keeps his mouth shut. He quietly stands up, grabbing his green Scouts cloak before moving to drape it over your sleeping figure. It was rare for him to see you so at peace, something he secretly cherished. He moves his hand to softly brush your cheek and it’s in this moment it takes all of his resolve to not kiss you, but he knows its unfair to take advantage of you this way.

So he simply leans down to give you a soft peck on your forehead before sighing, forcing himself back to his desk. Once seated he extinguishes the lamp and settles into his chair, closing his eyes, hoping sleep finds him quickly with your presence in the room.

The Fourth Time:

“Oh my god, Levi”, you yell as you take in his figure. He was completely covered in blood, worrying you deeply. You race towards him, frantically looking for any injuries. “I’m fine Y/N”, he tells you after a few seconds. “It’s not mine, I promise”, he continues as he watches you worry over him.

You lean your forehead against his, unbothered by the blood, “Fuck, I’m glad you’re ok”, you say quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. Levi sighs, leaning towards you before, “Captain, Titans from the south are headed this way”, one of your squad members call. You pull away reluctantly, giving Levi one last once over before, “Head out, we’re going back for the wall”, you shout.

On the ride back to the wall you keep an extra eye on Levi, until you pass through the gates to safety. You watch as Levi dismounts, before dismissing your squad, your priority on Levi. “I told you already I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me”, he says angrily as you approach him again. He didn’t need to be babied by you. “Are you? Because from what I can see you don’t look fine”, you say, tone matching his own. The two of you stare at each other in angry silence, before you hear Erwin calling yours and Levi’s name. “Levi are you ok?”, the blond haired man asks as he approaches the two of you.

“He’s apparently fine”, you say angrily, before dismissing yourself. “Apparently I have other things to worry about Commander”, you state before walking away. Erwin looks between your receding figure and Levi for a moment. “You know, with this job, you don’t know which day will be your last”, Erwin simply states. Erwin’s blue eyes look into Levi’s for a moment, an unspoken statement passes between them. “I’ll leave you to clean up, then mission report”, Erwin tells him. Levi simply nods his head, wanting this day to just be over.

When it finally happens:

You’d been ignoring him for days now, much to his annoyance. Where you really upset over a few simple words he thinks as he watches you on the training grounds. Regardless of your reasons he didn’t want this anymore. You were one of the few people he liked, you ignoring him hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

Once you finished training, Levi finds an opportunity to corner you. “How long are you going to keep this up?”, he demands. You look over at him, anger flashing across your features. “I’m sorry, last I checked you told me to not worry about you, so that’s what I’m doing”, you retort, before you try to step around him. His strong arms stop you, pushing you back into the wall. Shocked by his actions you remain silent, staring into his darkening grey eyes.

“I was angry ok. I’m supposed to be humanities strongest, not someone who needs to be taken care of”, he says before sighing, releasing his hold on you. “I’m sorry ok”, Levi continues, voice now quiet. It’s silent as you take in his words. “Did you just apologize?”, you ask, surprise evident in your voice. Levi’s cheeks flush before he turns his head, “I’m not saying it again”, he mumbles. You laugh quietly before you grasp his shoulder, causing him to look at you. “I accept your apology, but I’m never gonna stop worrying about you. I care about you Levi”, you tell him with a small smile.

Your words bring a warmth to his body that he rarely feels. For once, Levi doesn’t think, he just reacts. He cups your face in his hand as his other one grabs your waist pulling you to him. His lips find yours with ease as you move to wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a gentle kiss, but one that brings new meaning to the relationship the two of you had. You pull back slightly mumbling, “Took you long enough”, with a smirk. “Shut it brat”, he says before kissing you again, silently cursing himself for not doing it sooner.