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#all the things i said in this fic is actually true
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Crossroads | Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: You set out with the intention of selling your soul to the devil. What if, instead, you can make a deal with someone else?
Tags: none YET. GN!Reader. not an age gap fic.
Words: 2,297
Note: Hiii friends. I was not expecting this piece to grab me the way it did, but I guess the vibes tickled my brain in a way I needed. This was fully inspired by this moodboard by @almostfoxglove. I haven'y fully decided where this story will go, but I think I will end up writing more for it, so. lol enjoy! 🙏🏼💗
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It was a dark and stormy night.
When else would you expect to meet the devil at a crossroads?
Dark clouds roiled overhead, dulling the light as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t strictly night time- it had been closer to late afternoon when you set off- but the weather had quickly taken an ominous turn. The wind whipped past in bursts, pushing and tugging at you in away that somehow felt mocking. The air smelled electric, full of danger and promise and the dust of the desolate way you walked.
You didn’t know what to expect.
You knew what people told you to expect, of course. A creature uncanny of eye, with a personality as persuasive as a siren song. A bag of tricks and twisting words the likes of which a mere mortal could never hope to compete with. Nobody you’d been able to find had actually met him, though.
The devil, that is.
It wasn’t a stylistic exaggeration. There was no other reason you’d be walking this unmarked road, the pavement growing more worn and cracked the longer you walked. Legend said to set your feet to the most deserted road you could find, with whiskey in your pocket and the devil in your thoughts. The rest would take care of itself.
So far, the legends rang true. The longer you walked, the more the trappings of civilization had fallen away. No lane markings, no road signs, not even the specter of a gas station sign in the distance. Even the scrubby roadside vegetation had vanished- nothing was visible beyond the brown dust all around the faded black strip you walked upon.
The appearance of a stop sign smacked you in the face like…well, like a stop sign. In the jaundiced atmosphere, the vivid red of it was jarring. Lurid. A splash of blood against the dull surroundings. Those four authoritative letters were almost bright enough to keep your attention from the crossroads beyond.
Almost.
A gray intersection in the featureless yellow landscape. X marks the spot.
Your shoes scuffing against the pavement was the only sound.
In the dead center of the intersection, you halted. The wind rose again, howling to a pitch like a summoning whistle; just as quickly it dropped to the stillness of bated breath. The sound and the silence jangled some long-dormant human instinct within you. Your ragged breaths sounded unnaturally loud. You spun in a slow circle, squinting to the h. The sound and the silence jangled some long-dormant instinct in you. Your breath echoed in your ears. You spun in a slow circle, squinting to the horizon of all four roads to be sure there was no mysterious figure approaching in the distance. Finally you straightened, your hands on your hips. Where the fuck is the-
“Well, well, well. What have we here?”
A voice all but purred from behind you. The words were draped in a deep southern drawl; honestly, that should have been the one thing you did expect. 
That same instinct warned you to turn around slowly. Just beyond the stop sign, a figure was sauntering into view. His hands were in the pockets of well-worn jeans. Work boots cushioned his swaggering gait; across a broad set of shoulders, a utilitarian button-down stretched. He could have been any blue-collar man you’d ever met.
It was the eyes that gave him away.
Brimstone and pyrite, ageless and knowing- with something impish around the edges. 
It was in the tilt of his head, in the creases fanning out from his eyes, as he smiled his way toward you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.
“Are you- who I’m looking for?” Somehow it didn’t seem like a good idea to outright accuse him of being who you suspected.
He came to a halt once he crossed into the intersection. His smile didn’t falter. “That depends. Who’re you looking for?”
Your heart beat fast. “Someone to make a deal with.”
His smile broadened. “The devil.”
You nodded.
“Do you have my gift?”
Does he mean…You withdrew the bottle you’d carried all this way. 
Whiskey in your pocket, indeed. His eyes lit on the bottle with satisfaction, and an unholy shiver licked past you at being even tangentially connected to this being’s pleasure.
He conjured up two glass tumblers and poured a measure for each of you. For all your uncertainty preceding this meeting, seeing his anticipation of this experience just like any other man…your tongue loosened. “If you can summon glasses, couldn’t you also summon the whiskey?”
He’s examining the contents of his glass, swirling the liquid and studying the color. “I could. But then some might forget to bring me a gift. Then we wouldn’t be able to negotiate, and you would have wasted this whole journey.” He waved an arm to indicate your surroundings. “So it’s really me doin’ us both a favor by choosing my own birthday present.” 
He lifted the glass to his nose and took a long sniff. “Besides, I can’t summon what I don’t know. I’m inclined to be a little nicer to folk who bring me something original.” The glass finally touched his lips. He took a slow (showy, you think) sip, rolling the liquid around his mouth and, eventually, swallowed. Even the act of swallowing didn’t seem to conclude his tasting- he smacked his mouth softly, processing the finish.
Finally, he looked at his glass, then at you, in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s some quality shit.”
"Original enough?”
"I'd say so.” He inclined his head to you in a gesture of approval.
He gave the impression of lounging then, of somehow leaning back and spreading out although there was nothing but air around him- until all at once there was something, and he was settled into one of two chairs set at a small round table, none of which had existed half a second before.
Your mouth went dry. The glass you held felt cold and heavy against your suddenly sweaty fingers.
The man gave you a disarming grin. 
He nodded toward the untouched drink in your hand. “Why don’t you try yours, and then we can get down to business?”
You looked down at your glass, the liquid the same color as the desertous land all around. “Do we both have to drink before we can strike a deal?”
The man lifted a brow. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it?”
A nonanswer. Nothing less than what you should have anticipated. He wasn’t a man, after all. For all intents and purposes, the creature before you was the devil. 
You wondered if that narrative wasn’t a bit overdramatic. Was that really always the scenario? Human strikes deal with non-human entity- and then spins the story out of proportion when they can’t hold up their end of the bargain?
The part of your brain musing on human nature and mythology felt very separate from the part controlling your body as you sat down at the table. Everything seemed to have the surreal quality of a dream. The whiskey seared on its way down your throat.
The devil’s eyes smoldered with amber fire. 
Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “So. What can I do for you?”
You told him your tale. You glossed over the most tragic details, thinking to save yourself some embarrassment if at all possible. To the devil’s credit, he appeared to listen. For all the stories of human folly he must have heard in his endless lifetime, he kept his eyes on you as you spoke and reacted in all the right places, his mouth twitching or his eyes narrowing in turn.
That same errant part of your brain turned its attention to the devil’s looks. Did he appear the same way to everyone? This wasn’t an imitation of any real-life person, you were certain. You’d remember meeting someone like this. His hair was a deep gray threaded with silver, full of curls and swoops. Though older, he seemed to ooze strength and virility. He was unfairly appealing, you decided. It had to be a calculated decision on his part. 
When you finished, he sat back in his chair. Took a sip of his whiskey. “So, what,” he said, “precisely, do you want from me?” 
He leveled his gilded stare at you.
You shivered. No amount of beauty could detract from the aura of power that emanated from him. While not overtly compelling you to any specific action, it called to something in you- it made you want to confess your wishes, declare your wants with relish.
You ran your finger over the carven edges of the decoration on your glass. “What’s your name?”
He paused with his glass halfway to the table. “My name ain’t worth your soul, honey.” His glass hit the table with a definitive thunk, but the look on his face was gentler. A wry smile.
“That’s not what I meant.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m just trying to be polite. Do you have a name?”
“What makes you think my name isn’t Lucifer?” His teeth flashed in a wicked grin.
Despite the cacophony of butterfly wings in your belly, you kept your face impassive, only lifting your eyebrows.
His grin gradually faded. Something guarded replaced it as he seemed to assess you, eventually coming to a decision. “Once upon a time, I went by Joel.”
“Joel,” you repeated. “That’s an odd nickname for ‘Lucifer Morningstar’.”
He snorted. “Well, I ain’t Lucifer Morningstar, so that’d be why.”
The world tipped beneath you. “You’re…not?” Blood roared in your ears. If this…being wasn’t the devil, then who had you just poured out your life story to?
He was quick to pick up on your rising panic. “Whoa, hey, easy now. I’m here in his place, see? He can only be in so many places at once. Plus, these kinds of deal are sorta small fry to him nowadays. I’m one of his…representatives, you might say.”
“...Oh.” Your breathing slowly began to steady. Okay. That was fine. This Joel clearly had some kind of power, given his summoning of the glasses and the table. You were prepared to bet it was eldritch, too, judging by the current (but not constant) sulfurous yellow of his eyes. Maybe you’d get him to put your deal in writing. And have him be sue-able by human courts. Yeah. That would be fine.
Across the table, Joel was eyeing you. “You all right?”
Adrenaline had left a chill in your veins, but you shook it off. “I didn’t know it worked like that,” you said.
“No reason you should.” Joel shrugged. He sat back in his chair, but concern still lurked in his gaze where it rested on you.
“So. Small fry, huh? Not sure how I feel about my soul being so devalued.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
The corner of his mouth ticked. “I could arrange a meetin’ for you if you want. You could take your feedback directly to the big man himself.” He sat back in his chair, imitating your petulant posture.
His suggestion took the bluster out of you. Face someone even more uncanny than Joel? With feedback? Oh, no.
“I’ll think about it,” you sniffed. 
His mouth curved up further.
“Is…is the price always the soul?”
Joel eyed you contemplatively, up and down. “Not always. Depends on the ask. Depends on the bargainer.” He winked.
“On the representative,” you clarified.
“Mmhm.” He waited, watching you think with a citrine shimmer to those otherworldly eyes. The minute changes in your facial expression seemed to fascinate him, his gaze flitting from your eyes to your brow to your mouth.
It wasn’t helping your thought process.
What precisely did you want from him? You thought you’d known, when you assumed you’d be bargaining with Lucifer himself, and for your soul. When the price had been your soul, you’d had an accordingly-sized ask. But if you could bargain him down…
“What if I need more time to decide on my ask? What if…meeting you has changed things?”
His head tilted, gaze sharpening. “Oh?”
“Maybe…we could meet again to negotiate further?”
“Extend our working relationship?” Joel smirked, but there was an undercurrent of wariness in it. You could see the gears in his mind turning as he assessed you, his eyes taking on a darker glimmer.
“Tell you what.” He stood, and your body went on alert. “I’ll come up and meet with you three more times. After that, you can tell me what you want, and we’ll make a deal.
“Well...another deal.” Joel smirked again, but this time there was no reading what lay behind it, his golden eyes hard and glittering. He held out a hand. 
You stood with your arm only half-extended. Your heart rate was picking up again. “If I decided that I didn’t want to make a deal, would there be a punishment?”
Joel stared at you, his eyes narrowing. At last he said, “A price. My time ain’t free, you know.”
Before you could stammer out another question he rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t be your soul.”
He re-extended his hand. He lifted a single, expectant brow.
The desert wind tickled your face. There was nothing supernatural about it now- it was just a breeze, the same air that had cooled and comforted you your whole life. 
You breathed it in. Then you placed your hand in the devil’s, and he squeezed it tight.
A slow smile spread across Joel’s face. “Pleasure doin’ business with you.”
The wind kicked up abruptly, and for a second you feared. The gale dashed sand across your eyes and brought a strange smell to your nose. When it cleared, and your vision with it, everything- the table, the whiskey, the crossroads, Joel himself- was gone.
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Thanks for reading! 💗
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jo-harrington · 22 hours
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Chuck (Eddie Munson)
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Summary: It's just a regular closing shift at Benny's. Easy peasy. Nothing bad could possibly happen.
Word Count: 3.5k
Characters: Eddie, Jeff, Benny Hammond
Themes/Warnings: Boys will be boys, friendship, smutty intrusive thoughts, Masturbation(?), Food Fucking, Eddie has an unspecified romantic partner (could be Steve, could be Reader, could be anyone that's not what this story is about), Song Fic, What's a Little Psychological Torture Between Friends…
Note: You know what? In true unhinged fashion, I had to write this for @courtingchaos on her birthday and not only that but give her some credit here. This was born from us being stuck in a car on Lake Shore Drive, hangry and a little slap happy, on the way to Navy Pier after I witnessed something that was probably very similar (in the most innocuous way) at a suburban Burger King.
Meg, you are my life. My world. You are my Cheese. Burger. And this one's for you. Happy Birthday.
Thank you AGAIN to @dr-aculaaa for the beta and @deathbecomesthem for some of the diner lingo. Disclaimer that I never worked at a diner so this is probably horribly inaccurate...but just suspend your sense of disbelief if you have.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
If anyone wants to get the full effect of this fic, you need to put Mr. Roboto on repeat for the duration of your time reading.
---
5:55PM
Jeff stared at the clock as he wiped down the counter.
Every tick of the second hand had him gritting his teeth a little more, enough where he should probably worry that he was gonna crack a tooth. All because Eddie was late for his closing shift.
Their closing shift.
And not just late, late again. For the third time in as many days they worked together.
If he even showed up.
Now Jeff wasn't one to complain. Shit, Eddie was the one to suggest that he apply at Benny's in the first place and put a good word in for his best friend.
Ben was getting a little older and wanted to enjoy what was left of his youth while he still had it, instead of solely being stuck behind his grill for the rest of his life. An extra waitress on the weekends, an extra line cook during the week, and the business ran smoothly, even when he decided to take a day off.
And Eddie was pretty much employee of the month, knowing all of the regulars orders like the back of his hand.
Until Jeff started getting scheduled alongside him.
Until Eddie started going on dates, and started "going steady" with someone.
Until Eddie started playing hooky to go and suck face and god knows what else while parked up at the quarry.
Jeff let his fist slam against the counter as another minute ticked away, only for the bell of the door to chime and Eddie walk in, shrugging his apron on and shedding his leather jacket in a flustered rush.
"Sorry I'm late," he said with an easy smile on kiss-swollen lips. Jeff rolled his eyes at the sight and at the apology. "Oh come on, I promise I'll be on time tomorrow. Scout's honor." Eddie crossed his finger over his heart.
"You weren't a scout," Jeff retorted.
"Hey now," Eddie teased, starting in on one of his typical Munson-isms that usually ended up in forgiveness or forgetfulness. "I actually was. For one day before some snot-nosed kid pushed me over and I accidentally said fuck. Then they asked me to leave. But once a scout, always a scout."
Jeff hummed and turned on his heel to push back into the kitchen and start prepping for the dinner rush.
The thing was...they worked really well together. They had a good routine of noting what tasks needed to be done throughout the night. It's not like the diner was ever that busy on weeknights and Benny had been doing it alone for years, but it was nice to have someone you got along with at work.
Well it was nice...when they were there. It was nice when your work buddy was actually reliable and helped you out, which made Jeff feel bad because Eddie was his friend, his best friend. But Jeff could let Eddie's luck and charisma let him slide through his responsibilities.
So Eddie was about to find out what kind of hell it was when you were in the weeds alone.
---
Jeff had gone out to take an order when the phone rang.
Eddie grabbed the receiver with a quick "yello'" only to get a familiar voice rasping on the other end.
"Can I speak to Jeffrey please?" came the reply from someone dramatically sounding like Edith Bunker.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Gareth, I know it's you," he sighed.
"No, this is Jeff's grandma," the younger boy kept up the ruse, snickering a little at the end. "I need to talk to him."
Eddie let his head roll back on his shoulders as he heard the stifled giggling of his friend over the line, and then he peeked his head out of the passthrough.
"Jeff!" he called out. "Your grandma's calling."
Jeff donned an exaggerated and fake look of concern; he jogged across the diner and grabbed the receiver from Eddie's hand.
"Hello?" he answered and Eddie watched as his expressions got more animated, as did his voice. "Grandma? Oh no, what happened...an accident? You need help? You need me to leave work and come home right away?"
"What?!" Eddie shrieked and reached out to snatch the receiver back from Jeff's hand. He placed it against his ear but only heard Gareth laughing and then the ring tone. He was about to ask Jeff what the hell was going on, only to find him pulling his apron over his head. "Come on now, where do you think you're going?"
"I've gotta leave," Jeff shook his head frantically. "It's my grandma, she's in the hospital, I've gotta go."
"Jeff, come on."
"There's no one else to take care of her."
"Seriously. Quit it."
"You'll be ok by yourself tonight right?" Jeff ignored everything Eddie said and looked at him expectantly as he dug his hand in his pockets for his car keys.
For a moment, Eddie felt the panic rise within him; he figured Jeff was a little upset that he bailed the past few nights but...seriously it wasn't anything that Jeff couldn't handle.
Was his friend really that mad?
"Listen I'm sorry I bailed on work a few times this week," he apologized, but Jeff just shook his head and pulled out a roll of quarters.
Then another.
Then another.
And the panic Eddie had faded into curiosity, then realization.
No, Jeff wasn't mad; he was annoyed.
"Hey listen, it's just for tonight so I can check on my grandma, you'll be ok," Jeff explained as he walked over to the old jukebox in the corner of the dining room. He began loading the old machine up with quarters and punching buttons in rapid succession. "I'll even make it up to you. You can have all the tips in the tip jar from before you got here earlier and I'll put on some music that you'll like. Hey look, Ben took your advice and updated this a little.
"He even has your favorite Ed," Jeff glanced over his shoulder. "Styx."
Eddie groaned in loathing this time, thinking of the power ballads and synthesizer nightmares he was about to endure because his friend was gonna get back at him.
The Grand Illusion. Or worse Paradise Theater.
The records inside of the machine shifted as they queued up tracks for the next however-long Jeff had paid for.
"Don't do this Jeff," Eddie pleaded as his friend grabbed his jacket from the coatrack by the door. "I'll never skip work again. I promise. Just stay."
"But my grandma needs me Eddie..." he whined and then winked at Eddie before running out the door. "Have fun."
Eddie sighed and accepted defeat as the door shut and Jeff was gone, all while the sparkly synthesized voice began amidst electronic fanfare...
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto...
---
7PM
You know what? It didn't start out that bad.
"You're wondering who I am," Eddie sang along and bopped to the beat as he flipped burgers on the flat top. "Secret, secret, I've got a secret."
He had food to cook and orders to take and he fell right back into the routine of those short staffed nights when Benny started to realize how much he valued his personal time, but right before Jeff was hired.
It would be fine.
And there was a little musical accompaniment? Even better.
He figured that he might start loading the machine up with quarters before his shifts from now on, instead leaving it up to the chance of the customers.
"Machine or Mannequin?" He did a little spin. "Secret secret, I've got a secret."
Eddie hadn't even realized that the song that started out the night--Mr. Roboto--repeated itself until he got back to the kitchen, and then it repeated again.
And again.
He had to admit it was growing on him though. Like a cancer, but still growing. So he either needed to adapt or it would kill him. The lyrics were catchy, he could dance to it a little, and there was a good beat that he could almost headbang to if he tried.
It wasn't even that he hated Styx, he just hated what Styx stood for. Mainstream popular music. It was commercial and sanitized. Yeah Babe wasn't that bad of a song. And neither was this one. Shit...if he really thought about it, was the band even really that popular? They were underdogs, and he always rooted for an underdog.
"With parts made in Japan," he sang into his spatula and slapped slices of cheese onto his patties for dramatic effect. "I am thee modern man!"
---
8PM
So if you see me, acting strangely, don't be surprised.
There was a little bell at the pass that got hit whenever an order was up.
Of course, with Eddie being the only one working it didn’t need to get hit.
Still, every time Eddie passed it, he just had to tap his hand on the bell along with whatever verse or instrumental was playing.
I’m a man who needed someone and somewhere to hide.
It wasn’t getting to him.
No. Not at all.
It was just a graduation from him playing air guitar with a broom and drumming on the counter with spoons.
Ding ding ding ding ding, ding ding ding ding ding.
Eddie tapped at the bell with both hands at the crescendo and then went to the walk-in to scream.
Nothing to worry about.
---
9PM
I’ve come to help you with your problems, so we can be free.
“Hey can you change the song at all? This one’s been repeating for a while.”
Eddie smiled tightly at the guy at the head of the long rectangular table and then dropped the blue plate special down in front of him with a clatter.
“It’s broken,” he explained, not wanting to get into it.
Several customers had asked already; it was getting as annoying as people who said they were tipping with kindness. Obviously if he could get another song on the jukebox, he would.
How many fucking quarters had Jeff put in there?
“Could you unplug it? Plug it back in again?”
He’d thought of that too.
But wasn’t it just his luck that they lived in the do-it-yourself amateur handyman Midwest…and the damn thing was wired into the wall itself.
And he really didn’t want to cut the line and have to explain to Benny how an electrical fire burnt down his diner.
“You know what?” Eddie took a slow, calming breath. “This is actually…my favorite song." There was a disbelieving blink. "A-and it’s my birthday.”
The withering look he received made him second guess burning down the place; it actually didn’t seem so bad after all. He could deal with Benny.
I’m just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control. Beyond my control. We all need control.
---
10PM
I am the modern man, who hides behind a mask…
Eddie wore his Freak label proudly.
He accepted it, everyone else accepted it.
But maybe this music was getting to him a little bit as he started noticing of the different inanimate objects around Benny’s that he could potentially fuck.
That was a level of Freak that he really hadn’t embraced yet.
So no one else can see my true identity!
Well, it was sort of always there simmering beneath the surface. He had been a horny teenager and was now a horny young man. There was always a question about what objects he could stick his dick into.
But he’d tried to curb that curiosity after the pool noodle incident.
Now though…he was far enough gone that things were starting to appeal to him again. And it scared him a little bit for those thoughts to pop up during work.
Not enough to stop though.
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.
First it was a bagel with the perfect hole.
Actually, was it even the music causing this? How dare that bagel look so damn fuckable. Cream cheese wouldn’t be the best lube, he had to admit. But he didn’t mind trying. Unfortunately that bagel was needed for someone’s sober-up sandwich.
Then there was a hole in the vinyl of one of the booths. He stared at it every time he brought out an order or bussed a table. Eventually he couldn’t help himself and he lightly ran two fingers over it and then plunged them inside the hole, like a lover would, only to find the edges were jagged and rough…and he was disappointed that it wouldn’t be the most pleasurable experience.
He wasn’t one to say no to a little bit of teeth when getting his dick sucked but that wasn’t what he was looking for right now.
At one point he even considered fucking the jukebox itself. Get it to shut up once and for all.
The logistics weren’t right.
Where would he even put his cock? Just rub the head of him along the coin slot while he jerked off? Pass.
His depravity needed to be put on hold though, because as he was in the walk-in trying to cut a channel into a head of iceberg that might be the perfect fit for him, he spotted a tub of hamburger with a label in Benny’s chicken scratch saying “discard” with the date.
He froze and let his thoughts swirl before he shook his head and put the iceberg down. He slammed his hand against his forehead as though that would make his internal monologue right itself.
Because what the hell was he doing?
Regardless of the absolute torture he was enduring, he was still at work and had a job to do.
Why was he trying to fuck a head of lettuce? Or fingering a hole in a booth. No, he was absolutely losing his mind, he needed to control himself, he needed to get back to work.
He was about to exit the walk-in when he glanced back at the tub.
“Can't forget that tonight,” he muttered to himself as a reminder.
Then back into the kitchen he went.
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.
---
11PM
“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” Eddie muttered as he dropped maraschino cherries into milkshakes. His voice was ragged, desperate. Pleading. “For doing the job nobody wants to.”
“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” he deadpanned as he numbly swept the floor. “For helping me escape when I needed to.”
Thank you.
Thank you.
I wanna thank you.
Please thank you.
Thank you thank you.
Thank you thank you.
“Thank you,” Eddie smiled, as the joy finally die inside of his body as he rang out the last customers. But it was rapidly born once again as he waved goodbye. “Thank you thank you!”
---
12AM
The doors were locked, the lights in the dining room closed.
And Eddie stood in the kitchen with a lit cigarette in his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand.
The problem was plain to see. Too much technology. The jukebox still played out on the floor.
Machines to save our lives? No. Machines dehumanize.
He shouldn’t be fucking the jukebox or a head of lettuce or a bagel. No. He needed something warm and malleable.
Living.
Or well…close enough.
It was the perfect idea! Instead of taking it right to the dumpster, he’d taken the tub of ground chuck out of the walk-in and let it get to room temp at the end of his shift, and now he was standing there molding it into the right shape.
He was ready and aching after palming himself in anticipation. He’d meticulously wrapped his hard cock in plastic wrap, for lack of a better option. He needed this.
He deserved this.
Why hadn’t he ever thought of this before?
The time has come at last…
He put out the cigarette in the meat then lined up with the channel he'd crafted. He hissed as he sunk in—synthesized angels sung all around him, guitars strumming in harmony—and finally felt relief for the first time all night.
Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.
His hips rocked in time with the beat, driving deeper and deeper. He felt the slightest bit of cold when he finally bottomed out, the center of the Chuck not entirely at room temp yet. It was an unexpected thrill and he shuddered as pleasure shot through him.
He let his head fall back and he laughed with the feeling, laughed uncontrollably, and the sound echoed through the diner, forever scarring the walls with wicked glee.
To throw away this mask.
It was strange, fucking what was essentially a mass of viscous sludge. Not bad, just strange. Not entirely wet but not dry either. Maybe it was perfect actually, something he never knew he needed. Just for him. A little slice of cheese...er, heaven...just for him.
Especially when he formed meat to suit his desires as it shifted.
That feral grin stayed on his lips as he worked himself to completion, as he pumped mercilessly.
Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.
And somewhere in all of the hubbub, Eddie came to the conclusion that although it wasn’t perfect, he could get used to it if he had to.
Because he had to.
He'd be stuck here forever, lost in Dennis DeYoung's vocal prison until the end of time.
Now everyone can see my true identity.
He thrust harder and faster, panting and kneading and clenching until all he knew was the meat and secret secrets and his own depravity as he spiraled downwards further into insanity.
I'm Kilroy.
He felt it coming.
Kilroy.
Cumming.
Kilroy.
It exploded out of him with those last few emphasized beats of the synthesizer. He felt the cling wrap bulge with his spend, felt the tingles along his spine and through his limbs as his orgasm shot through his body.
He leaned over, satiated, until his nose brushed the meat in sensuous exhaustion.
Kilroy.
He could hear his pulse in his ears, along with a buzzing din of tinnitus, and the ticking of a clock out in the dining room.
But where he expected the beginning of the next round of torture, Eddie only heard silence.
He breathed heavy, broken breaths. Gulps of air that felt like too much oxygen and not enough at the same time. He felt lightheaded.
It was over.
His punishment finally over.
He closed his eyes and thanked whatever God or Demon gifted him with this boon, and then his eyes shot open and he stood straight up as he stared at the mess he made.
"Fuck."
---
The Next Day, 5PM
Jeff felt like the cat that ate the cream when he drove to work the following day.
He felt a little bad about what he’d done to Eddie, and he had all the intention to make it back to Benny’s around 7 or 8, but Gareth had convinced him not to.
“Come on,” he’d told Jeff. “You know Eddie’s gonna get a good laugh out of it.”
“Yeah! Besides,” Dave interjected. “Shame on him for leaving you up shit’s creek so much. Hopefully this’ll teach him a lesson.”
And Jeff agreed with them.
He and Eddie were friends but that didn’t mean Eddie could walk all over him.
He was glad to see the van parked in Benny’s lot when he arrived for his shift, and as far as he could tell, everything was normal when he walked in.
Ben was at the grill and Eddie at the counter.
Actually, everything looked better than normal. Everything in the diner looked squeaky clean and under the smells of cooked food, there was a tinge of the disinfectant they used to deep clean.
“You must’ve had the slowest night ever if you did a deep clean of the place,” Jeff clapped a hand on Eddie’s back and noticed that Eddie stiffened under his touch. “What time did all those quarters run out?”
Eddie laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.
“Little after midnight,” he chuckled. “And it was fine. But, uh, now I know better than to fuck with you again.”
“Yeah you’re on time today, you beat me here!”
Eddie grabbed his arm as he passed and then leaned in close, voice pleading and desperate.
“I’ll never be late again, won’t be a no show, but please…don’t ever subject me to that hell again. Please.”
"Scout's honor," Jeff cackled.
Upon Eddie’s look of relief, Jeff headed back to get himself settled.
He chatted with Benny for a second before the older man left for the night. But as he went to the walk-in to get more onions to chop, he noticed something.
“Hey Ed!” He called out through the pass and Eddie turned. “Thanks for tossing that ground chuck! Or…Domo arigato I guess heh.”
He turned back to the task at hand, so he didn’t notice all the color drain from Eddie’s face.
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lunarharp · 7 months
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What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)
#witch hat tag#orufrey#er.... i'm too tired to have anything to say..i worked several days on this.#wait.. didn't i say just recently here that i probably wouldn't ever depict 'what if alaira is qifrey's sort-of ex'. What's going on#i don't even remember deciding to draw this..it's all a blur..i'm not sure why i WOULD decide to draw delicate scenes in my head#that i wouldn't really want to share with anyone/discuss so why did i draw it...#some part of me really really wants to draw things that are more and more true to myself...#maybe because of my alienation with most romance/shipping/dynamics the rest of the world depicts.#orufrey really is perfectly suited to me - what i read in the text and what is in my head. well anyway#i am TIRED of drawing poses and angles and..maybe now i will actually take a break from drawing bc of the tediousness of Angles#btw it really is a 'stretch of time' . . . assuming witches graduate age 18-20#well orufrey are canonically 30-ish. they've only had agott around for presumably about TWO years (?) bc she took the test age 10#and it feels like oru moving in/unknown atelier acquisition/building (?) .. i guess that could be a year or so before agott at most#(she was the first disciple) so... ????????? What about the other 7 or so years ?!?!?!!?!?! Unemployed Brimhat Hatred era#that time is very nebulous. after qifrey went to the tower i feel like it's been implied he and oru drifted apart a little.#certainly they didn't live together at first... no way. that doesn't feel like how it is based on things oru has said about becoming Eye#idk. I'm tired now. i don't usually think of alaira as necessarily qifrey's ex and this being how things went in that 'sliver of time'.#i usually prefer the idea that they have their first kiss with each other in their 30s cause That's Just The Orufrey Lifestyle#just felt like making a more relatable alternative view of my own Cai Orufrey Canon one time. btw im a big monoshipper and it hurt a bit#let's leave it there. this is surely the most i've worked on a 'single' art - though now i realise just how much longer the fic took :')
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djevelbl · 10 days
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Kill the cringe cop in your head, do what makes you happy.
#just don't like. hurt ppl or yourself??? on purpose?????#that's it that's the only stipulation. and it's on a case-by-case basis#<- said like a true enjoyer of r/prorevenge#half of 'em posts are a creative writing exercise anyway#and that's fine#it's alright#all they need to bring to the table is the third party enjoyment of destroying an asshole's whole life deservedly. not honesty#honesty is just a pretty little nice bonus!#anyway#demon rambles™#also do i think IM!Cup would be THAT flirty?? nah#i read it a little more like condescension than outright flirting bc as the reader you're supposed to be in the same shithole as him#idk he gives me the vibe of somebody who's more lenient to himself than to strangers bc he KNOWS his own circumstances#for all he knows you might ACTUALLY deserve the devil's contract. though I don't think I'm gonna go down that route tbh#also I'm just gonna do this in the background of other stuff bc it is a HEFTY thing to get into lmaooo#I'd have to make illustrations to be pictures he sends u. I'd have to design dates (which would just be reader insert fics ngl) etc etc#it's a LOT of work but it's gonna be fun as hell!#also I'm planning to do it with all main characters + some of the fan favorite side ones (and my personal favorites thrown in as well shhh)#so it'd be cup mugs bends boris holly alice felix fanny oswald and whichever else i decide to throw at the wall to see if they stick idk#inky mystery#bendy and boris in the inky mystery#babitim#the inky mystery#also is cup's accent a little TOO strong there?? idk if I'm willing to change it but I'll DEFINITELY consider it#i can also consider changing the tagging for the characters in case y'all are uncomfortable with the 18+ tag#either way not everyone will have that one! bc that's a completely optional tag on mechat anyway#ok yea im done yapping byeee
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starlooove · 3 months
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So which is it? Did Bruce treat everyone like that or was he only super mean to Steph bc of the writers? Like I’m tired of the excuses being made, if it was one and done whatever but the way Bruce treated steph did impact her story and then changing stephs personality to golden retriever blond doesn’t change that at all lmao
#fans when the character flaws are socially unacceptable 😖😖😖😖#like yeah a lot of tim and Bruce’s writing did reflect racism classism and misogyny of the writers#that doesn’t make their impact on the characters they were talking to any less racist misogynistic or classist#and i genuinely think choosing to ignore it in order to preserve ur image of ur white fave whilst completely changing the way steph Duke#Damian cass etc. behave is more racist than the writing#this is just to me#to ME changing the things tim said and making Steph a ditzy Girlboss blond is more misogynistic than ANYTHING they could’ve written#at least they had a point where growth could happen and the possibility to give Steph a backbone#y’all just say tim is a coffee addict and go#and It’s the personality shifts that bother me the most#like this most recent Damian is ass sorry#like in canon making his relationship with Bruce good or closer than it actually was….#and ppl saying Bruce changed post death like no he hugged Damian once lmao#like that didn’t change a damn thing between them before#and if it was presented as codependency and trauma bonding whatever but it’s not they just act like he was always a difficult fave#which fuels racist fans who already thought that even more#yuck#and every single personality shift that happens is to prop Bruce up and by extension tim bc the meanest thing dc does to him is nothing#like y’all think tim is most hated NOT true#he’s badly written in the sense that his personality becomes being the perfect soldier for Bruce#which y’all play into by doing the same shit downplaying everyone else but making him pissed about it#get real#if I see another fic or hc about how Damian actually can’t withstand torture or needs Tim’s help to hack smth 😭#y’all can’t stand that Damian IS talented it’s so sick like his whole issue is that he’s a kid with kid emotions who knows how to do all#this shit and mentally knows he ‘should’ behave differently and fails in an effort to go towards that bc he doesn’t take him still being a#kid into account UNLESS it’s an advantage. saying ur a better writer than dc by saying Talia was play fighting? ok…#when ppl are like ‘Talia/Ra’s would never respect a kid enough to do XYZ…’ THATS THE POINT!!#anyways sorry tiktok vid pissed me off this went everywhere
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orcelito · 11 months
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So I've had no time to write today bc work etc etc but I've been thinking about it like All day and
I have chapter 17 all plotted out, and tbh could potentially write it in a matter of days, brain willing. It's finally back to Not action, which as fun as action is to write its also fucking Hard. So it'll be nice not having to agonize over the sound of a fucking chain (Twice) etc etc. Add in the fact that it's gonna be angsty as hell (angst is always the Easiest for me to write) & I rly think I could knock this one out quickly.
And the Great news is that. Examining the timeline and what I have planned...
Wolfwood is definitely arriving in chapter 18. And not at the end like I'd suspected. No, he's probably gonna be there towards the Start.
I've gotten through the two most difficult arcs to write for early ITNL, so the ball is really rolling now. We are Finally getting places...
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aberooski · 4 months
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I love my gx winx au and I love that it's just bits and pieces of me being like oh that's fun and not having any semblance of lore or plot. It's purely contained to the character designs I've drawn for the girls.
#it will stay contained to art too it's not something I'd ever write#like I know absolutely nothing about this au of mine but I'm obsessed with it all the same#like I learn something new about it every time I've drawn something#I don't draw a lot for it yall have seen everything I've done and it's usually just a drawing of alexis cuz I love her design lol#but like I'm doing panels for it rn right? and like it's just coming together like the story of what's happening atm#and that's like the only story there actually is rn but it's just falling into place#so I can actually make something of substamce out of this tiny concept I had for a drawing I wanted to try because I had an itch and it grew#that doesn't really happen to me anymore like I haven't felt a spark like that since I wrote OUAD#nothing I've written since has felt the same#and like I said this isn't something I would write into a fic or anything it would just be too much but it's really everything to me rn#something I can come back to and dip my toe in whenever I really feel like I need a spark again and it just makes me happy#I grew up with 4kids winx club so another reason I'd never write anything for real is because I refuse to watch any other version#like I've tried I just can't do it my mind rejects any other version so I only know the universe to a point anyway and but that was my thin#it made me so happy as a kid and it still does now like those are my girls and they mean the world to me and being able to play#within that space with other characters I'm obsessed with and combine into something that miraculously works is amazing#I need to draw more stuff for this au I guess is my whole point#I need to see what other things can..... bloom....... (heh) within that space and what will just manifest before me#I need that something to make me feel that spark again because I don't want to lose it forever and I think I'm starting to find it again#life has just been knocking down over and over lately and it's destroyed so much of my mental state and honestly randomly deciding to try#and actually draw actual stuff for this au has been so healing. I almost feel lighter#it feels stupid amd silly to say but it's true#abby's just rambling don't mind her
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having a mild freakout over forgetting a major canon event that actually influences literally everything about the character whose POV I am not only writing in but whose character arc is literally the driving factor of this entire goddamn fic
#like. the thing that is DRIVING ME NUTS is that I have been sitting here#trying for WEEKS to figure out an appropriate backstory event to drive the specific character development that I need for this fic#and it's right there! in canon! this ENTIRE TIME!#and not only did I forget about it I didn't even bother to skim the wiki!#me! who prides themself on writing things in-character and as true-to-canon for characters as possible!#and it isn't. actually. a huge issue. there is plenty of space in the narrative because like I said#I've been trying to come up with this kind of driving event for a while now and this just happens to slot in perfectly#because like... the themes of the character are all the same and the themes of the FIC are playing off the ones in canon and fanon#and since it's all connected it connects in the fic too#which means I don't need to do a bunch of edits to like... scene order and content I just need to slightly shift what they're about#and specifically what the main is thinking ABOUT while they're happening#which isn't really all that hard as editing goes#HOWEVER#I am both agonizing over the amount of editing I am going to need to do to the sections that drive character motivation#AND the sections wherein that character motivation and backstory drives character ACTION and therefore the plot#(this fic is like thirty thousand words already this is not a small task)#and I am also fully tearing my hair out over being enough of a dumbass to NOT EVEN THINK TO CHECK THE WIKI#WHEN I WAS ALSO AGONIZING OVER NOT BEING ABLE TO FIGURE OUT THE RIGHT KIND OF BACKSTORY#BUT IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME :(#anyways yeah I'm kind of an idiot and I've just made a whole bunch more work for myself because I was too confident in my own skill to just#check the fuckin' wiki and actually reread canon
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good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder
#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess
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🥚 eggvidenced Follow
honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh
🌟 rockliker270 Follow
date posted: june 23, 2010
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⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow
🌟 rockliker270 Follow
ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though
🧊 just--ice Follow
okay now they're just making lawyers up
#also didn't mvk die or something?
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🔥 triedbyfire Follow
why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder
🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow
so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit
🔥 triedbyfire Follow
are you gonna address the copaganda thing or
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🌻 attorneybout Follow
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he's so. 😳
📂 trialanderror Follow
why is he defending
📂 trialanderror Follow
OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???
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🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow
i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all
🥜 liberdeez Follow
op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.
🔐 wrightorwrong Follow
hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!
🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow
net 0 information post
#thanks again lawblr
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🍒 cherriescoola Follow
btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life
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🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow
December 28, 2016
YES!!!
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🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow
guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do
🔪 violencekilling Follow
you gotta let him rob you that's the law
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👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow
look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name
💼 courtofwaw Follow
bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late
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📋 lawandwhoreder Follow
guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited
#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore
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🐺 lawnewolf Follow
i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs
🌈 lawsbian Follow
the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)
🐺 lawnewolf Follow
YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.
#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.
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🔮 inhighspirits Follow
why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy
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💞 lawveyourself Follow
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seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree
💞 lawveyourself Follow
what do you mean evidence fraud
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🎧 instrumentalillness Follow
fuck you *unguilties your love*
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🎀 copiicat Follow
perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me
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snoopyracing · 6 days
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champagne coast // ln4
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pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 19k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, summer!lando, clueless reader and lando, pining, fluff, and a little angst
summary: when lando and you spend summer break together you don't expect italy to eventually hold such a special place in your heart... or lando and you go on vacation and everyone keeps thinking you're a couple.
playlist for the fic: spotify | apple music
masterlist
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It was the Monday before the Belgium Grand Prix when Lando asked – what are you doing for summer break?
The sun had started to set over the coast, its golden reflection rippling across the water and onto the balcony of Lando’s Monaco apartment. The same balcony that the two of you currently resided on, choosing to share the wicker couch instead of one of you sitting in one of the empty chairs.
You were sat sideways on the couch with your legs crossed, your view consisting more of Lando than the picturesque sunset over the sea. A cheap bottle of pink moscato, which was your favorite, was sitting on the table where Lando had his feet propped up.
He’d always complain about how sweet it was, but then drink more of it than you. In all reality, he’d actually grown to love it because of you, but he’d never tell you that. He’d only been able to find it at one place in Monaco, so when he knew you were coming to visit he always made sure to have a couple bottles on hand and maybe a bottle for himself when he was missing you.
Your eyes met his as you processed his question. This right now was your summer vacation. He surely knew that, right? “Summer break? I don’t have a summer break like you do, Lando.” It was true, you had barely managed to get this week off from work to be able to go to Belgium, let alone have a month off. “I figured me being here for a couple days then going to Belgium would be my vacation.”
A disapproving sigh escapes past his lips as he speaks. “That is not a vacation.”
“Well it sure as hell beats being stuck at an office in London.”
He downed the remainder of the wine in his glass and fully turned his body towards you. His arm resting across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching you. “I think you should come with me on vacation.”
You stifle a groan by taking a drink of your wine. “Lando, you know I don’t do Ibiza. It's not my kind of place, especially this time of year.” It was a beautiful place no doubt, but the big party scene was not your favorite. And the couple times you had gone with Lando and your shared friend group it was so chaotic and you had a hangover that lasted for what seemed like a week. So no– Ibiza and you weren’t the best of friends.
“Who said anything about Ibiza?” He’s got a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, you can tell by the way his upper lip twitches slightly. Not that you stare at his lips that much to be able to notice that kind of thing.
“Lando Norris not going to Ibiza during his summer break? Should I alert the press? Did you hit your head? Are you running a fever?” You lean forward to check his temperature, but he playfully swatted away your hand with a giggle before you could get close enough. “Have you broken the news to Fewt-”
That smirk had fully developed across his face as he cut you off. “Who said anything about Max?”
Now you really thought that he’d bumped his head or was slightly tipsy already. You cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Where are you going then? Especially without Max?”
Lando leaned back, the wicker creaking beneath him, but his eyes were still trained on you. Golden hour had made them even more blue, resembling the crystal blue water that was just a short walk away. “I’m going wherever you want to go.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.” He’s the one to cock an eyebrow now.
“I can’t go with you.”
His smirk had turned into a pout and he knew how to work those big blue eyes, especially on you. “Why not? Wherever you want to go– we will go. Not many people get that opportunity Y/N.”
You go to take another drink and realize your glass is empty, but before you can reach for the bottle Lando’s already got it in his hands, reaching over slightly to pour you another glass. “Who all is going then if Max isn’t going?”
He sets the bottle back down on the table, hesitating for a moment before speaking. You two are close, probably the closest friend he has compared to Max, but he worries that you won’t be up for what he’s about to suggest. “It would just be me and you.”
You feel your cheeks get hot at his proposal, but you shake it off, blaming it on the wine.
As much as the idea of Lando and you going on a trip together sounds amazing, you just don’t think you can make it work. You live a normal life and being able to just go on lavish trips at the drop of a hat is not something you get to experience, no matter how much Lando wants you to or you would like to.
“I would love to Lan, but I don't think I could get the time off again.” Your finger nervously circles the rim of the wine glass as you contemplate even bringing your other reason up. Mainly because you know what his answer will be, but against your better judgment you take another swig of the wine as liquid courage before telling him the embarrassing truth. “I also just can’t afford it.”
And without skipping a beat he blurts out. “I’ll pay.” You’re immediately shaking your head no, but before you can verbally deny his offer he’s speaking again “Seriously Y/N. I will pay. It’s not a big deal.”
Except him paying your way for this trip is a big deal. Just how it’s a big deal everytime you come and visit him in Monaco and he insists that you don’t spend a dime while you’re here. It’s bad enough that you stay at his place, let alone have him pay for your dinner every night. Or how he is always offering to fly you out to races on your free weekends. Or insisting that the random gifts he gives you don’t cost that much, like you can’t read the designer labels on the boxes or labels.
It makes you feel bad that you can’t offer the same back to him. The constant worry that he might think you are using him for his money makes your stomach hurt because it’s the last thing you’d ever do. He’s one of the most giving and kindest people you know and to be able to call him your best friend is something you treasure. And you truly hope he knows how much you appreciate everything he does for you, but how could he not when you tell him every chance you get.
“Lando, really I cannot let you pay for me to go on vacation. It’s one thing to let me crash at your apartment and for you to get me passes to races, which I appreciate more than you will ever know. But I draw the line at a whole vacation. I don’t want to seem like a freeloader who is using you, that’s honestly the la-”
“Oh my god will you just let me spoil you!” Lando had enough of your endless rambling. Your need to always try and decline his gifts or offerings until he convinces you that you are worthy of them drives him crazy. To Lando there isn’t a person on Earth who deserves everything and more than you. And the fact that he can afford to give you anything you’d ever want tickles him pink. Hell if it was possible, he’d buy you the whole damn universe, even if you hadn’t asked for it.
“I hate that you think– that I would think you’re using me. Never in a million years would I think that. You mean a lot to me Y/N, truly. You’re one the most important people in my life and you deserve everything and more that I give you. If I thought you were using me, I would not be asking you to go on vacation with me, believe me. I love having you around and with us not seeing each other like we used to, I figured a trip with just the two of us would be nice.”
He pauses for a moment as he scoots a little closer to you on the couch, your legs touching as the glow from the sun envelopes around you two. “Now please don’t try and worm your way out of this trip. I’ve missed you so much and if you don’t end up going I think you’re just gonna have to move in with me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but try not to let his heartfelt words get to your head. “How would I even get the time off work again? Tell them ‘Oh my famous F1 driver best friend wants to take me on a trip. Can I please have some more time off?’ I don’t think that would work.”
“Well I think it would work. Especially if you add in that I’m super hot.”
The giggles that come from you lets you know that you’ve drank your fair share of wine for the evening. “Oh I don’t think they would ever tell me no If I added that in.”
“If they do say no then just quit and I’ll get you a job somehow with McLaren or Quadrant or something. I just really want to go on this trip with you.”
You aren’t sure if it's the wine in your system or the fact that you want nothing more right now than to spend a week with Lando in some beautiful country, without a care in the world. But you ignore every responsible and logical part of you and tell him what he wants to hear.
“Alright. So where are we going then?”
His eyes light up and the smile that spreads across his face is comparable to that first win smile. “That’s all up to you baby.”
Both of your hearts skip a beat at the term of endearment that came from him. His because he can’t believe he let it slip and yours because you can’t believe he called you that so easily. But you both ignore it and you focus on the one place you’d had on your mind since he mentioned taking a trip.
“Italy?” You suggest with a hopeful smile on your face.
He fills up his glass with the last of the fruit juice like wine and holds it up towards you, your glasses clinking together in a toast. “Italy it is then.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Six days later an email notification pops up on your phone as you’re sitting in McLaren’s hospitality, talking with Lando’s Mom. You glance at who it’s from, not wanting to be rude and get on your phone mid conversation, but when you see your boss’s contact you can’t help but open it. “I’m sorry, it’s from work.” Cisca waved you off, the conversation had only consisted of why they couldn’t stock better snacks in hospitality, and she knew if work was emailing you on a Sunday it had to be important.
You had emailed them Monday night requesting the time off and when they hadn’t responded by Friday you figured they were denying it. Or firing you for requesting more time off while currently being on a vacation. So to be getting this email on a Sunday had you worried, but as your eyes scanned the email you couldn’t hold back the excitement. By some higher power unbestowed to you, they had granted you the time off.
“Never seen someone so excited over an email from work.” Cisca teased.
“Yeah. Honestly thought I was getting fired, but they approved my time off for the Italy trip Lando and I are taking.” You leaned back in the chair, relief finally washing over you.
“Just the two of you?” Cisca had her suspicions about her son’s feelings towards you and your feelings towards him. She’d secretly hoped the two of you would end up together the first time she met you years ago. She honestly thought you were his girlfriend that day and was surprised when he introduced you as his friend. Then she thought maybe he was hiding your relationship because she had never known her son to bring around a female friend like he had you.
You had attended family dinners, a couple holidays, races, and so many other things that just didn’t seem normal to bring a friend to. They had become so accustomed to you being around that when he finally said that he was bringing home his girlfriend for everyone to meet and you didn’t walk through the door— everyone was a little shell shocked. The relationship didn’t last long and she had her theories as to why. To Cisca there was just no way the two of you didn’t have feelings for eachother, she could see it plain as day, and it drove her crazy that the two of you didn’t see it.
“Yeah. At first I thought he was asking me to go to Ibiza again with everyone and you know me, it’s not my thing. But then he said we could go anywhere I wanted and that it was just me and him, so I chose Italy.” You gathered your things, eager to tell Lando the good news before race time. “You raised a good man, Cisca. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life than him.”
There’s a smile on her face as she watches you talk about Lando, how your smile never falters and how that twinkle in your eye seems to get brighter the more you talk about him. “Thank you honey. You had better go tell him, hadn’t you?”
“I’ll be back!”
Thankfully Lando’s not that hard to find, he’s in the garage looking over some data on the monitors with Will when you spot him. You stand back out of the way, waiting until he’s done, but as soon as he turns to walk away you’re racing towards him. Your arms flinging around him from behind and you can feel him tense under you, but when he hears your laughter his muscles relax.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Lando asks as he turns around to face you, his hands lingering on your hips.
“Hmmm. It may have something to do with work approving my time off.”
That same smile from the other night finds its way onto his face and he’s pulling you into his arms, the two of you swaying back and forth as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “I knew they would approve it, it was meant to be.” His voice tickles your neck as he speaks causing a giggle to escape past your lips.
“Can’t believe we get to spend a week together in Italy.” You state as he releases you from his grip.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, still not sure that he wouldn’t rather be going to Ibiza with his friends.”You’re sure you’re not gonna miss Ibiza?”
His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt as he speaks– his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d miss you more if I went.” And there isn’t a single ounce of doubt in his words. If he ended up going to Ibiza without you, he’d be at a club wondering what you were doing. Eventually downing one too many shots to try and numb that annoying ache in his chest that forms when you aren’t around. The one that even with you around this week, he had felt occasionally at the idea of you not being able to go to Italy.
The idea of him spending his summer break back in England had crossed his mind a couple times, especially if that meant he got to spend time with you. Luckily though fate was on his side today and he wouldn’t have to deal with that ache for the foreseeable future.
You can feel the slight blush on your cheeks as you process what Lando had said to you and you pray he doesn’t notice it. Just him simply saying he’d miss you if he went to Ibiza should not have you blushing, but here recently it seemed like that was all he could do was make you blush.
A familiar Australian accent hits your ears and around the corner comes Oscar, his hand clamping down on Lando’s shoulder as he comes up behind him. “Y/N. Haven’t seen you in awhile.” His bunny teeth showing as he flashes you a smile.
Your mouth barely opens to speak before Lando’s speaking for you. “I know. She’s been too busy working back in London to come see her favorite person.”
“I’m really such a horrible friend. I’m so sorry Oscar, I really should make more time to see you. In fact, how’s Australia this time of year? I think I might come visit you.” The playful smirk on your face and Oscar’s laugh does nothing to tell Lando that you’re just joking and like a little kid he’s got his arms crossed across his chest with a slight pout on his face.
“Um. I think I’m your favorite person Y/N. Plus you can’t even go to Australia because we are going to Italy.”
Oscar and you can’t help but laugh at Lando’s dramatics, but Oscar wants to tease Lando even further. He knows how his older teammate feels about you, even if Lando won’t give the idea any time of day when Oscar brings it up. Lando had confided in Oscar about his idea to take you on a trip, but Oscar didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. “Italy? Who’s all going? Maybe Lily and I could tag along?”
Lando’s eyes widen at Oscar’s suggestion, mainly because he knows you’d jump at any opportunity to spend time with Lily and this trip was meant to be just for the two of you. “It’s just gonna be me and Y/N…” He trials off, trying to figure out how to nicely tell Oscar that he can’t come.
“There's a month between Singapore and Austin. We should all plan something for then.” You chime in. As much as you would love to spend time with Oscar and Lily, you really want to have this trip just be Lando and you.
Lando’s surprised at you turning down Oscar’s suggestion, but smiles and nods towards Oscar, agreeing with your idea. “Yeah that sounds like a good idea.” Oscar states, a small smirk on his face as he eyes the two of you, fully knowing that you’ll come back from Italy together. And if you don’t Oscar thinks he may have to knock some sense into his teammate.
The driver’s parade was set to start soon, so you tell Oscar you’ll see him around and give Lando a hug, knowing you won’t see him again until after the race. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Be safe and good luck.”
Lando’s grip on you lingers, not wanting to fully let you go just yet, but when they get the final warning that it’s time to go he reluctantly frees you. A small frown on his face as he heads towards the track and you go back to hospitality.
The two McLaren drivers stood side by side on the flatbed of the moving truck, smiles on their faces as they waved at the fans in the grandstands. “Never seen two friends like you and Y/N go on a trip together– alone.” Oscar’s voice is low, there’s an interview going on to his left, but he’s loud enough that Lando can hear him.
Lando keeps looking straight forward as he speaks. “Don’t know what you mean by that.”
“I think you fully know what I mean.”
Max, who was on the other side of Lando, had been eavesdropping the whole time, and couldn’t help but put his two cents in. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I just want to say, do us all a favor and finally tell her how you feel.”
Lando shook his head at the two drivers. You two were just very close best friends, there wasn’t anything he needed to admit to you. It was just a trip that two best friends were going on and there was nothing more to it– right?
─── ༺❀༻ ───
A week and a half later your plane touches down in Naples and even though the flight from London is only around three hours you want nothing more than to just get to the hotel and relax.
The Uber ride from the airport to the hotel thankfully doesn’t take long and you have no issue with sitting down in the lobby of the hotel with all the luggage while Lando checks you two in. You do notice that it’s taking quite a long time for Lando to check in and as you glance up from your phone towards the reception desk you see him talking with the worker and showing her something on his phone. Then with a sigh and a shake of his head he turns on his heel back towards you.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his suitcase. “I booked us a two bedroom suite and they told me that all they have available is a one bedroom. Even though I showed them the booking on my phone, someone is already in it. So, I’ll just take the couch and you can have the bed.”
This place was fancy, and Lando had undoubtedly paid a pretty penny for the two nights that you were staying here. You would have thought they would have comped the room or something for their mistake. But by the displeased look on his face it didn’t seem they offered him anything but a sorry for the inconvenience.
Even with the hotel screwing up the room, the one you end up with is amazing and as you enter the room your jaw drops slightly at it. You set your bags down and explore the room further, taking in all the beautiful artwork on the walls and the natural light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. You enter a door to your left and it’s the bedroom, which is even better than the main room, mainly because of the huge balcony that overlooks the sea.
There’s a gentle breeze in the air as you lean against the railing, taking in the view and the hustle and bustle from the surrounding area.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Lando’s voice makes you jump, you were so lost in your own little world you didn’t even hear him come out onto the balcony. You nod your head in agreement as he slots himself beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning on the railing. “And it’s not even the best part of our trip.”
“You know you didn’t have to get such a nice room, we are only in Naples for two days.” As much as you try not to feel guilty about him paying for all of this, you do.
“And what did I say a couple weeks ago?”
A groan emits from you as you remember his words to you in Monaco. “You said to let you spoil me.”
“Exactly. I just want you to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about how much everything costs. We are here to relax and have fun, which means figuring out what we want to do tonight.”
You ponder your endless options and all you really want to do is sit on this balcony and enjoy the view, but your stomach growling tells you maybe dinner would be a good idea first. “We are in Italy– how about getting some pizza and then just come back here and relax?” Lando agrees and while you’re freshening up he looks up good pizza places within walking distance.
You two are just about ready to leave when there's a knock on the door, followed by room service!
A confused look is shared between you two, but when Lando looks through the peephole there stands a worker with a room service cart. He opens the door and is greeted with a smile from the employee.
“From the hotel as an apology about the room.” The employee hands Lando an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. “Have a nice rest of your stay.”
Lando looks back at you with an amused look on his face as the guy quickly leaves, the wheels of the cart squeaking as he hurries down the hall. “Well, we have something to drink on the balcony later.” Lando states as he sets the bucket down on the coffee table.
“Champagne and pizza? No thanks.” You see there’s a card attached to the bottle and as you open the envelope and read the words written, your cheeks turn scarlet.
“What does it say?” Lando questions, moving to stand behind you so he can read it too. His eyes scan the letter and he soon finds himself in the same state as you. He clears his throat as he steps back, suddenly feeling too close to you at the moment.
to the happy couple,
we are so deeply sorry about the mix up with rooms and we hope you can accept our apologies. we’ve sent a bottle of the finest champagne that you can get in naples and have comped any room service you may order during your stay. as always if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call the front desk and once again we sincerely apologize for our mistake. we hope you enjoy your stay here and the city of naples.
The letter isn’t spoken about, actually what you two were addressed as isn’t spoken about, but you both agree that their actions were nice. The walk to the pizza place is quiet, the both of you occasionally pointing out things that you think are interesting or pretty, but both of your minds are preoccupied with being mistaken for a couple. Anyone else would have laughed it off, but clearly not the two of you.
By the time you’re back at the hotel and sat on the balcony with the pizza and champagne your conversation had returned to normal. You teasing Lando about not even drinking the glass he had poured for himself and him complaining about you insisting that you get a pizza that has peppers on it.
“You know what would make this evening even better?” The pizza is long gone and the two of you are sat admiring the painting in the sky left behind from the sun.
“Some pink moscato?” There’s a grin on his face as he says it. If there’s one thing he knows you love, it’s a glass of pink moscato on a balcony with a view.
You try to hide the smile on your face as you glance over at him, but he’s caught you. “You know me too well Norris.”
“Should’ve told that employee that we wanted a ten dollar bottle of wine instead of that champagne.” Lando jokes.
“Thought you didn’t like it? That it was too sweet?”
He shuffles slightly in his seat, fully knowing that you’d caught on to his facade. “I may have grown to love it.” He admits quietly.
You’d known for a while, but hearing him say it was much more satisfying. “Yeah. Kinda figured it out last year when you started drinking more of it than me.”
Nighttime draws near and once you start yawning, so does Lando, and after the fourth round of yawning Lando states that it’s time for bed. The subject the two of you hadn’t discussed any further than what was said in the lobby earlier. The guilt started to eat at you as you brushed your teeth, he’d invited you and is paying for everything and he doesn’t even get to sleep in a bed? What kind of friend were you?
Lando was making the couch up as you walked out of the bathroom and for this being a luxury hotel that couch looked stiff and seemed to be more for show than actual comfort. He already had a bad back and it looked like sleeping on that couch was going to have him trying to find a chiropractor tomorrow instead of sightseeing. “Lan. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He doesn’t even look back at you, still occupied with trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. “No. I’ll be fine. You take the bed.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.”
“Lando, look at me.” You knew he wasn’t going to budge with the whole couch thing, so you thought of the next best thing. The two of you sharing the bed. It was plenty big and truly it shouldn’t be that big of a deal if you two shared it. You were grown adults and bestfriends, no one should have to sleep on the couch.
His focus tears away from the couch and over to you, who’s already in bed and under the covers. “Look at how big this bed is.” Your body extends over to the other side trying to show him just how big the bed is. “Just sleep in the bed with me, there is plenty of room.”
Your offer takes him by surprise and he stills for a moment, he’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now, but a part of his brain is telling him not to. And he’s about ready to tell you no once again until he makes eye contact with you. Those damn eyes of yours could be used in interrogation rooms across the world, one look into them and he’s crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle. The gentle pat on the empty side of the bed is what flattens the sandcastle and he’s mumbling out an okay before sliding under the sheets next to you.
The two of you don’t know what to do for a moment, both still and flat on your backs under the sheets, like if you moved an inch the gremlin under the bed was going to get you. But eventually Lando turns on his side, mumbling out a goodnight as he pulls the comforter closer to him. You take his actions as a sign for you to roll over too and you figured that falling asleep wouldn’t be an issue after all the yawning earlier, but you were wrong. You tried counting sheep, tried laying on your back, tried anything you could think of to fall asleep and nothing worked. It wasn’t like there was a major time difference between here and London, it was literally only an hour, so unfortunately jet lag could not be to blame.
Lando hadn’t moved the whole time and you figured he fell asleep as soon as he turned over, but you were bored and going a little crazy because even though you were tired, you couldn’t fall asleep. “Lando.” You whispered, but got no response. “Lando. Are you awake?” You whisper a little louder this time, but still no response. So with a defeated sigh you roll back over and shut your eyes, praying that this time you can go to sleep. But within a matter of seconds you feel the bed shift and Lando’s voice echoing through the room.
“I’m awake.”
You roll back over— the two of you now facing each other. “Why didn’t you answer me a minute ago?”
“I was trying to go to sleep myself.”
“Oh sorry. I’ll go out to the other room and watch some TV or something.” You barely move an inch before Lando’s got his fingers wrapped around your forearm, gently pulling you back towards him.
“No, don't leave.”
You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you realize just how close the two of you are. The glow from the moon cascades through the balcony doors allowing you to make out the moles on his face and those pretty long eyelashes of his that make his already breathtaking eyes seem even more beautiful. Sometimes you think he has stars in his eyes from the way that they sparkle. And as the two of you lay here right now, you realize the only reason that the moonlight is flooding into the room is because she’s looking for her lost stars that have found a home in Lando’s eyes.
“You got any ideas on how to fall asleep? I’ve tried just about everything in the book.” For some reason you're whispering and you wonder if it’s from how close you are to Lando’s face or how suddenly nervous you are to be this close to Lando.
He’s silent for a moment, the logical and sane part of him screaming at him to not even suggest what he’s been thinking about ever since climbing under these sheets. The mere idea of it being the thing that had prevented him from being fast asleep by now. But he’s got you at literal fingertips length and he thinks there may not be another opportunity like this again. So– he acts with his heart and not his brain.
“Come here.” He’s moved onto his back with his arm outstretched towards you.
“Huh?” You know exactly what he’s insinuating, but you can’t actually believe that he is.
“You wanted an idea on how to fall asleep and this is my idea. I’ll get you to fall asleep in no time.
“You think us cuddling is gonna get me to fall asleep?” You definitely hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in Lando’s arms before. How it would feel to have his fingertips trance mindless patterns across your skin or have your head on his chest. He was your best friend, which meant those thoughts had never crossed your mind– right?
He shrugs, trying to hide the nervousness in his demeanor, the mere thought of you denying him right now was enough to have him on the next flight back to Monaco in the morning. He should have never put himself in this situation, but god as soon as he climbed into this bed all he wanted to do was have you wrapped up in his arms.
It had consumed his brain, and then consumed it even more because why was he having this desire to have such a tender moment with his best friend? Though his brain stops spiraling when he feels the bed shift and you’re suddenly tucking yourself into his side, arm slung over his torso, and your head laying on his chest. The same chest that his heart is about ready to beat out of and he prays you can’t hear how hard it’s working.
But as you both get settled and Lando’s heartbeat finally mellows out he realizes just how right this feels, like the two of you were matching puzzle pieces. Any other girl he had cuddled with before now seemed to feel wrong because as far as he was concerned, nothing felt better than this. It felt natural and easy and he found himself drawing absent minded patterns on your side where your shirt had bunched up.
He’d spend the rest of his life here in this moment with you if he could. And when he hears your slight snores something short circuits in his brain and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head mumbling out goodnight before he’s out like a light too. The moonlight blanketing over the two of you, who right now look more like lovers than best friends.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The next morning you’re already up and ready for the day by the time Lando wakes up and he tries to hide the disappointment of not waking up next to you, already missing the feeling of having you so close. A feeling though nice, he knew it was one that he probably shouldn’t be feeling. He asks you if you slept well while he’s getting ready and you tell him yes, not going into very much detail, for your own sake and his.
The day is full of sightseeing and lots of walking, which is something that Lando likes to complain about. You visit Pompeii and a handful of other places for you and Lando to nerd out about and truly be tourists. You eat amazing food that Lando says his trainer will hate him for, but he justifies it with the excuse of being on vacation. Hundreds of pictures were taken, your phones already begging for more storage and it was only the first day of the trip. Lando even went as far as bringing an actual camera, stating that lando.jpg would be revived soon.
But in between the sightseeing, eating, and everything else– both of your brains immediately go back to the sleeping arrangements from last night. You both can’t stop thinking about it, but no one brings it up, almost like it’s something you should be ashamed of. No one wants to admit how right it felt to be in eachothers arms last night or how both of you probably had the best sleep of your lives.
You didn’t want to admit that when you woke up this morning to Lando spooning you, your stomach was doing flips over the realization that you had moved in the middle of the night and he had found his way back to you. So many thoughts and emotions running through your brains, yet you both think it’s better to just act like it's not a big deal.
Night falls once again and Lando crawls into bed next to you. You’re both absolutely spent after the eventful day you’ve had and Lando worries that you won’t need him to fall asleep, but his worries soon dissipate because you’re tucking yourself into his side as soon as he’s gotten himself comfortable. You’re like a moth to a flame– the consequences of these actions never even enter your mind as slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep.
And when morning comes you don’t run away when you feel Lando’s arms around you, even with the butterflies making an appearance again. You enjoy your moment alone, the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of the city already alive, and the way Lando looks as he sleeps. It's truly a beautiful morning.
He wakes up not too long after you and there’s a funny feeling in his chest when he realizes that he’s gotten to wake up with you still in his arms. That you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. It all just feels so natural and right, that once again no words are spoken about this very non-platonic thing that is happening between you two.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“We’ve got a little bit a drive ahead of us today.” Lando states as he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Water droplets are scattered across his tan skin, his damp curls falling slightly onto his forehead. You’re trying not to stare, but good lord how could anyone not.
“It’s only like an hour.” You're still sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard as you now watch him rummage through his suitcase.
He holds up a shirt and shorts, silently asking for your opinion. You give him a nod of approval and he heads back to the bathroom to get dressed, but he leaves the door slightly cracked so he can still talk to you. “Yeah it was an hour. I’ve canceled the driver and made some new plans for today.”
“New plans?” You raise your voice slightly so he can hear you.
“It’s a surprise.” He peeks his head around the slightly open door— a mischievous smile painted across his face, before disappearing behind it once more. “So you had better start getting ready.” He commands as the door fully opens, revealing a fully dressed Lando.
A few short moments later a domestic scene plays out in the bathroom mirror. The double sinks both occupied, various hair products, makeup, and other random items are scattered across the counter. You’re watching Lando through the mirror as he tries to wrangle the mop of curls on his head, but everytime you look away he’s watching you brush your teeth or do your skincare. And the occasional times your eyes do meet in the mirror you’re both like little kids, eyes immediately darting away with smiles on your faces and little giggles echoing through the bathroom.
“You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” Patience had never been your strong suit and thus knowing about surprises was like a form of torture to you.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” He’s still screwing with his hair, but he’s looking at you through the mirror.
“Oh come on, just tell me. Pretty pretty please?” You’ve come up behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you flash your best puppy dog eyes at him through the mirror. And for a split second Lando almost cracks– those puppy dog eyes working on him better than you would have ever thought.
“The faster we pack everything up, the faster you get the surprise.” He’s shocked his words come out smoothly, his brain still foggy from your pretty eyes and close contact.
Ten minutes later you’re walking out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, where Lando tells you to wait while he goes outside for a moment. You assume the surprise is outside and so you try to peek and see what’s out there, but he’s coming back in before you can get a good look.
“Alright let’s go.”
You don’t see anything that you would consider surprise worthy as you walk out the doors, but then Lando leads you towards the cars parked outside the hotel and stops in front of a vintage yellow Ferrari. Your eyes dart back and forth between Lando and the car, unsure if he was just stopping to admire it or if you were going to be riding in it. He answers your unasked question by opening the passenger side door, motioning for you to get in.
“Is this the surprise? Where did you even get this car from?” Your eyes widening over the car itself and the fact that he’d gone through the trouble of even finding the car.
“It’s part of the surprise-” He’s got a smirk on his face as he speaks “and I have my connections.” He motions once again for you to get into the car and this time you don’t oblige. The leather seat soft under your legs as you sit down, the car was surely close to 60 years old, yet still looked brand new.
Lando puts the luggage in the trunk while you're examining all of the car’s little quirks and details while you wait.
“Ok, you ready?” Lando asks as he gets in the driver's seat.
“Gonna tell me the other part of the surprise?”
He sighs, he wanted you to figure it out on your own, but you were so persistent sometimes. “You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to drive along the coast of Italy?” You nod, a smile already forming on your face as you realize what he’s planned for you. “Well, instead of just taking the straight shot over, we’re gonna take the long way all along the Amalfi coast. And I figured it was only fitting that we do it in a Ferrari, considering we are in Italy after all.”
You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you stare at Lando from the passenger seat. Sometimes you wondered if he was even listening to you when you spoke, but then he pulls stuff like this and you know that he’s always listening– remembering things that you care about or like. “God, I don’t deserve you.”
Thankfully the car is still parked because you’re pulling Lando into a bone crushing hug, your cheek smushed up against the side of his head, a giggle emitting from him as he tries to hug you back.
“When you told me your work approved the time off, I knew for sure that this was one thing that I wanted to make happen. That same night I was online trying to find a car to rent for the day, but then I saw this one for sale…” His words trail off and your jaw drops at the realization, but in all reality you know it’s a very Lando thing to do.
“And now we’re sitting in your newest baby?”
He’s got a sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect car for this. Plus it’s the ultimate vacation souvenir!”
“You’re crazy.” He actually couldn’t be more perfect.
“Yeah, but you love me.” He teases as he starts the engine.
“Unfortunately.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The long winding road along the coast provided scenery that was beyond your wildest dreams. It was serene and picturesque– like something straight out of a movie. The bright blue water on one side of the road and the white stone mountains on the other. The various tunnels that somehow had even more breathtaking views on the other side of them. The handful of towns that you had to drive through, each of them more charming than the last, you only wished you had enough time to stay a week in all of them.
As simple as this was, you would have been more than content with this trip if you went home tomorrow, not that you wanted to, it was just that sometimes the simple things in life meant more than anything lavish to you. You weren’t hard to please, all you needed was Lando singing along to some song on the radio, beautiful scenery, and the wind blowing in your hair for you to be the happiest girl in the world right now.
The whole trip your attention was divided between the coastal beauty and the beauty in the driver's seat. You couldn’t help but glance over ever so often at Lando, especially when you’d hear him start to sing along to a song. He just looked so ethereal sitting next to you, one hand on the steering wheel– the other resting between you two.
There was a moment where you felt the sudden urge to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, a moment of insanity you’d thought. It surely had nothing to do with how sunkissed he looked from only being in the sun one day, or how the wind had made his curls the perfect amount of messy, or how you’d catch him looking over at you with a smile on his face.
If only you knew that Lando had been fighting the urge to reach out and grab your hand too. He’d never seen you so ecstatic over something as simple as going for a drive, but he’d drive this car till he ran out of road or gas, whichever came first, just to see that smile of yours. The way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight and how you giggled at his singing was just an added bonus, but all of them made his chest feel funny. He’d been around the world more times than he could count, seen so many breathtaking places, but right now none of those places compared to the beauty that was sitting next to him in this car.
You’re in your own little world so much that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your destination until Lando’s putting the car in park in front of a very luxurious looking villa. “We’ve arrived.” Lando states in a sing-song voice.
“Is this when you tell me Max and everyone else are actually coming too?” You question, flabbergasted over the size of the house. And you can tell what he’s thinking just by his facial expression. “Lando this place is huge just for the two of us.”
He rolls his eyes before getting out of the car to get luggage. “It’s actually a lot smaller than you think.”
When you step foot into the two story villa it immediately has that Mediterranean coast charm with intricate tile floors, artwork that adorns the walls, and windows with the most gorgeous views– needles to say you’re in love.
Then you take in just how big the place is with it’s one too many bedrooms and bathrooms and various other rooms that you probably won’t even use. Lando’s words echo in your head as you explore the house some more, and there’s nothing small about this place at all. “You’re such a liar Lan.” Your words are playful as you walk through one of the many french doors in the house that leads out to the back.
“Lie? I would nev-”
“Oh my god!” He’s cut off by you realizing that the backyard of this villa is nothing shy of paradise. A massive pergola covered part of the back of the house with vibrant bougainvillea lining the top and hanging down the sides. Various other flowers and plants are scattered strategically around the area. Under the pergola there's an outdoor kitchen and a large glass dining table, clearly meant to host a group of people, not two. Further out there’s a pool with sunbeds lined down one side of it– a poolside bar on the other.
All of these things are great, but the real show stopper is the view that this place has. From the front of the house you can’t really tell just how close you are to the water, but from out back it’s a completely different view. There’s a separate sitting area slightly further out from the pool. It’s got a little pergola of its own with couches and chairs and one of those fancy rock fire pits and that is where you get the best view.
It’s like something out of a nature documentary– it’s so perfect that it almost seems fake. The sea is so close that you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and it’s just endless bright blue water for days. You thought the view in Naples was pretty, but this was breathtaking.
“Knew you’d love this place.” Lando states as he comes up beside you, acting like he hadn’t been lingering behind you the whole time, admiring the view (you) from afar.
It was true though, Lando knew as soon as he saw this place online that it was the one. It didn’t matter that he paid an astronomical amount for it or that the house was way too big for just the two of you. All it took was for him to see the view to know you’d be the happiest girl in the world here.
He could picture you two sitting out here in the evening, watching the sun set over the coast, undoubtedly with a bottle of pink moscato. You’d end up drinking one too many glasses and your cheeks would get red and you’d get the giggles.
As Lando stood here– eyes never leaving the beautiful scene in front of him. He can’t help but feel that funny feeling in his chest over how radiant and happy you look. And he thinks that if this house was for sale he’d buy it in a heartbeat, if that meant he got to see you like this all the time.
A smile finds its way onto your face as you glance over at the guy you call your best friend. “You weren’t lying when you said you were gonna spoil me, huh?” You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile growing even bigger at his response.
“Only the best for my favorite person.” His smile is equally as big as you lean your head on his shoulder and in that moment he thinks that maybe the reserve driver could just finish out the season and he could just stay here with you.
That night as you both head to your rooms there’s an obvious tension in the air. You’re both slowly making your ascent up the stairs and lingering in the hall, trying to milk every last second until you inevitably have to go into your separate rooms.
After so long though, you’re the first to cave as your hand reaches for the doorknob. Your door creaks open and you’re mumbling out goodnight lan, i’ll see you in the morning before entering the room. Although you don’t close the door behind you and Lando takes that as an invitation to linger in your doorway. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know he’s there, you can feel his presence, and subconsciously you’ve left that door open for him.
“Goodnight Y/N.” You’ve got your back turned to him as you're digging through your suitcase for pajamas, but you can hear the slight grin he has on his face as he speaks.
The sight of Lando as you turn around has butterflies erupting in your stomach and it makes you feel weird to be feeling those things about your best friend. He’s leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that grin that you’d sensed him having was still on his face as he looked at you. Your eyes scanned over him, focusing on little details like his hair still being wind tousled and how the tops of his cheeks were slightly burnt from the car ride today.
And for someone who claimed to not need a ton of sleep– he looked so sleepy as the two of you locked eyes. Those big blue eyes slowly blinking and drooping ever so slightly as his head now too rested against the door frame. He still donned the hoodie that you teased him about putting on earlier after his claims of it being chilly once the sun set, only adding to the sleepy look he had going on right now.
Someone had never looked so cozy and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight. You will tell him goodnight again and he’ll close the door behind him before shuffling over to his room. Your mind will be preoccupied with him as you get ready for bed, the image of him in your doorway forever burned into your mind as you brush your teeth. As you crawl into bed you won’t think about how cold the sheets feel or how you want to be cuddled up to your best friend. You won’t think about how it’s been two hours that you’ve laid here and sleep has yet to greet you. And you certainly won’t think about how you’d be fast asleep right now if Lando was beside you.
But unfortunately you do think about all those things and you’ve exhausted every resource to try and distract you from it. It was different at the hotel when there was only one bed, but now with multiple bedrooms to choose from there was no reason for the two of you to sleep in the same bed. Lines were already blurring between you two without either of you knowing it and if you chose to go seek solace with Lando then those lines would blur even more.
But you didn’t know that your actions would eventually have consequences and seconds later you’re throwing the covers off of you with only one destination in mind– Lando’s room. The journey though, is short lived because as soon as you open your door you’re met with a wide eyed Lando, his fist frozen in the air like he was getting ready to knock on your door.
The frozen fist moves to rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to you. “Sorry, was coming to see if you were still awake.”
“I was coming to see if you were up too.” He’s still got that hoodie on from earlier, but you noticed he’d changed out his shorts for boxers. His hair was even more messy and you’d wondered if he had even fallen asleep yet. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Lando shrugs. “Not really– kept tossing and turning.” He acts like the reason he can’t go to sleep isn’t right in front of him as he rests his head on the familiar door frame.
“Yeah I can tell by your hair.” You tease. He just gives you a half assed smile and when he doesn’t tease you back that’s when you realize just how tired he is. “You want to watch some TV or something? ”
He shakes his head no. The only thing he wants to do is go to sleep, but how can he when you’re not next to him? It was embarrassing to admit that only after two nights of sharing the same bed that he couldn’t sleep on his own, but here he was. His big bed felt too empty and he realized that even if he slept in a twin sized bed it would still feel empty without you next to him.
Not to mention he’d found comfort in you being his personal heater at night. It was no secret that Lando ran cold, often seen sporting a jacket during race weekends while his teammate was in shorts. So with his personal heater gone, he’d resorted to wearing a hoodie to bed, which didn’t come close to holding a candle to you.
When he finally worked up the courage to get up and go to your room he was pleasantly surprised to find you up too and facing the same problem as him. A little sliver of him hoping that it was the exact same problem and that you couldn’t sleep without him.
For a split second you caught his eyes looking past you and towards your bed. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious, but if was actually hinting at what you thought he was hinting at, then you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had come to your door and that you both had trouble sleeping in separate beds. So, you act on impulse and tell him come on just sleep in here tonight and like a little kid who’s gotten scared of the thunder at night he’s crawling into your bed in an instant.
It’s like you two are magnets– immediately finding your way to each other under the sheets and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to finally fall asleep. And some time in the middle of the night Lando had shed his hoodie, no longer needing it with you pressed against him. When you two wake in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows and sleepy smiles plastered on your faces, there’s an unspoken agreement that even with the plethora of beds in this house, you two would be sleeping in the same one every night.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Lando and you were best friends, nothing more. Nevermind the sharing a bed every night or the longing glances or the sometimes suggestive thoughts you had about him. So maybe your friendship wasn’t practical or normal, but there was nothing romantic going on between you two. It was something you had drilled into your head for some time now. You’d try to ignore the way your heart would speed up when you’d catch him looking at you or the way he always has to have physical contact with you. And any other crazy thoughts that you’d speculated about had always been pushed aside rather quickly. He was your best friend after all and once again nothing more.
Though over the course of the week you’d found yourself having a hard time in pushing aside those non platonic thoughts about Lando. There were instances you two had found yourselves in that you just couldn’t ignore.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“What’s the plan for today?” You ask as the two of you are sitting outside the cutest little restaurant, enjoying brunch.
Lando finishes the last little bit of his eggs before answering you. “Well nothing that involves you getting behind a motor vehicle with the way you’ve been downing those bellinis.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. Yes, you’d had your fair share of bellinis, but they were so damn good and there really wasn’t that much alcohol in them for it to be an issue. “How about we just see where the day takes us?”
“Well I already had the idea of renting jet skis in my head, but I guess we’ll do what you suggested.” You joke.
Now Lando’s the one to roll his eyes at you as he flags down the waiter for the check. He doesn’t even look at it when it’s brought over, he just hands his card over like it’s nothing. It’s something that you still aren’t used to him doing even after knowing him for so long and you’re sure he’s gotten ripped off more times than he could imagine.
He quickly signs for it once the waiter comes back and with his card back in his wallet you’re free to go. Except when you stand up all those bellinis hit you and you’re a little unsteady on your feet, something that Lando clocks immediately. You aren’t drunk, just buzzed, but Lando isn’t going to let you live this down. “You wanted to rent jet skis huh?” He teases as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Think we still could to be honest.” You’re confident in your ability to walk on your own, but Lando insists on keeping his hold on you.
“Well I don’t want to waste a day at the hospital, so let’s just look around at the shops.”
You’d passed them on your way to brunch and Lando had promised you’d come back to them. They were cute little stores, each one specializing in certain things. You took your time in each one, feeling the silky material of some of the dresses, admiring the leather detailing on the handbags, and gawking at the dazzling jewelry in the displays. Everything was quite luxurious and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on a certain bag and bracelet, but the price tags were all you had to see to know they weren’t coming home with you.
Lando had been watching you the whole time, fully prepared to be your bag boy and was ready to pull out his wallet whenever he’d see you pick something up. But much to his disappointment, all you did was look and after going through all the stores you left empty handed. “You didn’t see anything you wanted?” Lando asks as you continue down the street.
You simply shrug your shoulders at him. “Nothing that I couldn’t live without.” He doesn’t press the matter anymore, fully knowing that he’d be coming back sometime this week to get you that bag and bracelet that you kept circling back to.
The streets are charming and bright. It’s a place that you can’t help but feel alive in, especially as the summer sun beats down on you, but the light breeze coming in off the sea makes it bearable. Your buzz was long gone, but Lando still insisted that you link your arm with his as you stroll down the streets– just in case. You don’t oblige to his request, enjoying the feeling of holding onto his solid bicep as the sound of him slightly humming the song that was playing at brunch fills your ears.
A sense of peacefulness washes over you and it’s at this moment that you don’t feel like you’re on the arm of the famous Formula 1 driver Lando Norris. He doesn’t have a million cameras on him or people flocking to him for an autograph. It’s just you and your best friend Lando– the boy who was gagging when you teased the idea of ordering fish at dinner last night or who you laid in bed with this morning, watching dumb Tiktoks until you were both in tears laughing. It was nice for once, to just have Lando.
You’re just about ready to circle back to the villa when you hear a woman shouting in Italian from down the street. You’re not anywhere near fluent, but you recognize some basic words and what you’ve heard has you pulling Lando towards the voice.
Fior! Bei Fiori!
At the end of the street there stood the lady, who had a cart of the most vibrant fresh flowers. When she spotted the two of you approaching, a smile painted itself across her face. “I think your pretty girl deserves some flowers, don’t you?”
The corners of your mouth turn upwards and a smile is painted across your face. You can feel your cheeks getting warm at her statement, at the implication that you were Lando’s, but it’s his response that makes them comparable to the roses found on the cart.
Lando feels his chest get tight over the lady assuming the two of you were together. It’s nothing new, for people to assume that he’s with a girl just because he’s seen with one. Though for some reason when someone says it about you, it gets a reaction out of him. He’s grinning as he looks at you and then back to the sweet old lady. “You’re right, my pretty girl does deserve some flowers.”
The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his words were embarrassing and not the appropriate reaction to be having over your best friend, but his comment wasn’t very platonic either. You’re blushing and grinning, probably very easily comparable to a school girl at the moment. He’s got a smug look on his face as he hands you of course the biggest bouquet the lady had. It’s truly a beautiful bouquet and it smells divine, it had anything you could have gotten at the shops beaten by a mile.
As you head back towards the villa you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you can’t stop thinking about my pretty girl. The words shamelessly repeating over and over again in your head. “So you think I’m pretty huh?” You tease.
Now Lando’s the one to blush and he hopes you just think it’s just from the heat and sun as you look at him. “Of course I do. I’d have to be blind to not think so.” He’s sincere with his words, he truly thinks you’re one of the most breathtaking women he’s ever met– intellectually and physically.
You lean your head on his arm, the same one you’ve still wrapped yourself around. “You sure know how to swoon 'em.”
“You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
And for the first time, for both of you, it feels weird and almost stings to hear the word best friend said out loud. Because deep down you know you’re way more than that.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Although you weren’t that much of a party girl you didn’t mind going out every once in a while. So when Lando suggested going out to one of the bars tonight it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You’d done your fair share of relaxing and to you that meant a night out deserved to be had.
With a final spritz of your perfume you’re ready to go and as you looked in the mirror one last time you couldn’t help but think damn, I look good. You found Lando waiting for you in the foyer, his head lifting up from his phone at the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs. “Might want to close your mouth before you attract flies Lan.” He hadn’t even realized he was in that much of a trance until you said something, he could feel his cheeks getting warm at getting caught.
You hook your arm with his as he leads you out the front door. “Sorry, you just look unreal tonight.”
“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” He’d chosen his tried and true white button up, leaving the first few buttons undone, which revealed even more of his gorgeous tanned skin. How someone could make something as simple as a white button up shirt look so good was beyond you, but it was clearly something he was skilled at.
The bar you end up at is relatively small and you realize it must be the most popular one with how packed it is. It’s on the coast and there’s a gorgeous outdoor area that you are immediately drawn to, mainly because there’s slightly less people out here. It’s still a good time though and the people are somehow even more rowdy out here and you wonder if it’s the fresh air.
You’ve danced, drank, laughed, talked, everything you could think of on a night out. It's been nice, especially doing it all with Lando, who somehow through the course of the night has undone more buttons on his shirt and you think he might as well just undo them all. It’s clearly getting late from how the crowd is slowly starting to thin out, but you two are still having a ball, and you figure you’ll stay till they kick you out.
Lando’s gone inside to get you both another drink, which he easily could have gotten from the bartender out here, but he claimed that the guy didn’t know what he was doing. While you wait you venture off to a far corner of the patio that’s somewhat empty. There’s a couple people sitting in chairs sharing a cigarette, but other than that you’re alone. Even in the dark the view is amazing and as you lean on the railing a nice breeze comes in off the water. It’s relaxing and nice, especially when you’re that sticky kind of sweaty and a little more drunk than you realize.
“Absolutely beautiful.” You jump at the unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. It had been a minute since you’d heard another British accent besides Lando’s. When you turn around to put a face to the voice you aren’t expecting to see such a gorgeous man standing there. He’s really the whole package– stunning blue eyes, pretty smile, fluffy light brown hair, nice facial hair.
“Uh- yeah it is.” You assumed he was talking about the view.
“Can I join you?”
He’s cute and you wouldn’t mind some company, so you tell him yes.
“Where’d your boyfriend run off to?” He asks as he nurses his Corona.
“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’m not wrong in assuming you know who he is, right?” This guy is in his twenties and British, if he didn’t know who Lando was then he had to be living under a rock.
He takes a swig of his beer before responding. “I know who he is.”
You scoff, there was a big possibility that he was using you to get to meet Lando, it was something you’d dealt with many times before. Guys showing interest in you only in hopes of becoming Lando’s friend or even worse girls who would befriend you only to try and get with Lando. You weren’t some step on the ladder that led to Lando, you were your own person with feelings and a life, who deserved to have people like you for you, not who you knew.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that you’re done being led on by people, but either way you confront the guy about it. “Are you using me to get to him?”
You hear him laugh a little and it lights a fire in you, but his words extinguish it before it gets out of control. “I was brave enough to come over here and willingly flirt with you before I even knew if he was your boyfriend or not. If I was trying to use you to get to him, I don’t think that would be a good plan. Which now that I know you’re not his girlfriend, kinda makes me think he’s an idiot. How could he have a girl like you in his life and not be madly in love with you?”
Your brain is fuzzy as you’re trying to process what he’s said. “Sorry wait- you were flirting with me?”
He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and he lets out a chuckle at your cluelessness. “When I said ‘absolutely beautiful’ I wasn’t talking about the view.”
“Oh.” You’d thought it was kind of weird for him to just randomly say that about the view, but for it to be aimed towards you was the last thing you had thought of. “Well, flirt all you want then.”
Not only did this place have one bartender that was incompetent, it seemed like all of them were. Lando had waited for what seemed like ages for a beer and a vodka cranberry. It wasn’t even that busy at the bar for it to be taking so long and at one point he contemplated just going behind the bar and doing it himself. By the time he finally got them he was surprised you hadn’t come looking for him, but when he made his way out onto the patio he saw exactly why you hadn’t.
Over in the corner Lando sees you doubled over laughing with some guy as he watches from afar. His grip on the glasses gets tighter as he sees you place your hand on the guy's arm. The tightness in his chest increases the longer he stands here and watches. It bothers him more than he cares to admit– to see you with some random guy. To hear that laugh of yours and him not being the source of it is driving him crazy. But what really sends him over the edge is when the guy tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and without a second thought he’s storming over there.
Lando tries to play it cool as he approaches and he’s glad he’s got these drinks to use as an excuse. Your mid conversation when Lando interrupts, but he doesn’t care one bit. “Here’s your drink.” He says as he pushes the slightly watered down glass towards you.
“Oh thanks Lan.” You flash him a smile, but his face is emotionless and the fun light hearted atmosphere has suddenly turned awkward. For some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “Um, Lando this is-” You remember at that moment that you hadn’t even asked the guy his name, which to you makes this even more awkward.
“Harry.”
“Right. Lando, this is Harry.” You motion between the two men. “Harry, this is Lando.”
Harry extends a hand out to Lando and they very awkwardly shake hands. “Nice to meet you mate.”
Lando only nods his head at him before turning his focus back to you. “I think we should get going, they are gonna close soon.”
You think he’s joking, considering he’d waited all that time to get these drinks, and now he suddenly wants to leave. “I just got my drink, can we at least stay until I finish it?” It also feels rude to just abruptly leave in the middle of the conversation that you were enjoying with Harry. But Lando doesn’t know how to hide his emotions very well and by the look on his face you know he’s being serious.
“Well you can stay, but I’m leaving.” He knows he shouldn’t leave you alone with some guy you just met, but god he doesn’t think he can stand here and watch you flirt with him anymore than he already has. So, without hearing your response he starts making his way towards the exit.
A regretful look washes across your face as you look at Harry. “That was so rude of him, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s up with him, he never acts like that.” You take a big swig of your drink, fully knowing dealing with Lando is gonna be a pain. “It was really nice talking to you, but I better go hunt him down.”
He shrugs, clearly not as upset over this whole situation as Lando or you are. “No biggie, I’m sure we’ll see each other around. It’s a small place.” You bid him goodbye, but you don’t get very far before he’s hollering. “Can I at least get your Instagram?” Which has you coming back and quickly exchanging usernames before you're off again to find Lando.
You run into him in the bar and it looks like he was coming back out towards the patio. A look of relief washes over him when he sees you and he’s leading you away from the loud music and out the front exit before either of you can say anything. Only once the bass of the music is a faint sound in the distance does Lando speak up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with that guy. I was coming back in when you found me.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but you were kinda rude to him for no reason.”
Guess you were diving in head first with this.
Lando stops walking and turns to face you, a confused look on his face. “I wasn’t being rude.”
“Yes you were. We were having a conversation and you just butted in and demanded we leave. Not to mention you wouldn’t even speak to him. He was nice, you would have liked him if you gave him the time of day.”
“You barely know the guy, you talked to him for what ten-fifteen minutes? I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dumb excuse. He shook the guy's hand and didn’t get a good feeling about him? Bullshit. “Well if you didn’t have a good feeling about him then why’d you leave me with him?” He’d started to walk again, but stopped dead in his tracks at your words, spinning on his heel to face you once again.
“I already told you I regretted leaving you. I just had to get out of there for a second.”
“Why?” You were being adamant, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for his answer.
He knew exactly why, but he couldn’t tell you that, he hadn’t even fully accepted it himself. “I don’t know Y/N.”
You’re getting frustrated with him and these damn heels that you chose to wear are not making your mood any better. “There’s a reason for everything, Lando. How would you like it if I acted like you did tonight with a girl you were talking to? You’d be livid.”
He completely ignores your accusation and turns the conversation in another direction. It had been itching at him to know if you were just being nice or if you were actually interested in the guy, so he plucked up the courage to ask. “So you were flirting with him?”
The look on your face is one of pure confusion, but your tone is nothing but shitty. “I’m not sure how you jumped to that conclusion from what I said or why it’s really any of your concern, but yeah it was just some harmless flirting. I’m sorry for having a little fun!” You were thankful that it was late enough for the street to be relatively empty, the last thing that needed to happen was pictures or a video getting out of you two arguing. You were sure there were already rumors about you two being on vacation together, you could only imagine how this would be misconstrued.
Hearing that his best friend was potentially interested in someone else had his head spinning and he could no longer blame his reactions on the alcohol. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, ignore the way his heart raced when he looked at you. Or how he loved hearing that old lady call you his girl the other day.
It had been building up– festering almost this whole week and maybe subconsciously he wanted to go on this trip with you to see if there was some truth to what everyone had teased him about. He just didn’t think it would actually be true. Or that at two in the morning on a dimly lit street in Italy, during an argument, he would finally accept that he was in love with you.
But even with him realizing he’s in love with you, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute idiot. “He was probably just using you to get to me.” Lando immediately regrets what he said as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows that's a sore subject for you and the look of hurt on your face makes his stomach churn.
“Now you’re just being mean.” You’re sure it’s a mixture of things that are contributing to the salty tears welling up in your eyes at the moment, but it’s Lando’s comment that actually makes them fall. You’re storming off before he can say anything, wishing you would have just stayed at the bar with Harry.
Lando knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he’s the one who lit the match, which means he’s gotta be the one to put it out. “Y/N come on. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” He catches up with you rather quickly, your heels slowing you down.
“Just leave me be Lando.”
“Y/N. Stop walking for just a minute.” He’s grabbing at your arm, trying to halt your movement.
You stop and face him and for what it’s worth he does look sorry, but that doesn’t change how you feel. “What? You want to poke fun at me some more?”
“No I-”
“You know I was just having a little harmless fun with that guy, like you said I talked to him for what? Fifteen minutes? Nothing was going to come out of it. But is it really that far-fetched of an idea for a guy to actually be interested in me just for me? Am I that undesirable and unlovable for it to seem like a reality? Or was he like everyone else who’s used me and threw me away as soon as they got their five minutes of the almighty Lando Norris experience?”
The tears that slide down your cheeks are a mixture of anger and embarrassment and maybe you were being a little dramatic. Perhaps the multiple drinks you’d consumed weren’t helping either, but when the person you care about the most says something like that, something you’d confided in him about, it hurts.
Lando feels his heart break to hear you talk about yourself like that. All he wants to do is to scream out that you’re not undesirable or unlovable. He’s wanted you and loved you for some time now, the moment it started he’s not sure, but he knows it didn’t happen overnight. It’s always been there– he was just too blind to see it.
He’s not entirely sure on how to make this right, he knows he was an ass, but he also knows he can’t take back what’s been said. The worst part is that he knows exactly how you feel and somehow he still thought that was a good thing to throw in your face– all because he was jealous. He could deal with people trying to use him, he’d developed a sixth sense for them and never let it get too far, but you were too kind. Your big heart and trusting of others had gotten you burned one too many times and it hurt Lando even more to know that all that had happened because of him.
“I should have never said that to you. I know first hand how it feels to have people use me and the only reason you’ve had to deal with that is because of me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Your sniffles fill the night air as you try to calm yourself down. While people used you to get to Lando, at least they didn’t want to be your friend to leech off your fame. Use you for your money and generosity, expecting paddock passes and some lavish lifestyle. People saw Lando as an object rather than a person more times than not. While your feelings were valid and Lando was still an ass for saying that, you realized to be in his shoes was worse. So, you wipe away your tears and accept his apology indirectly. “Think we’ve only got each other at this point.”
His voice is soft as he approaches you, his hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Don’t think I need anyone else but you.”
The tender moment has you turning to putty in his hands– the argument pushed to the back of your mind. His hand moves to cup your face and his tumb brushes gently across your cheek. You feel like time has frozen in this moment and for a split second you swear he looks at your lips, like he’s going to kiss you. The fact that this is your best friend is no concern to you at the moment. Then the moment between you two is ruined just as fast as it began, the sound of a very loud and drunk group of people leaving the bar up the street brings you both back to reality.
You back away from each other slowly, like you weren’t sure exactly what had just almost happened. You’d already resorted to blaming it on both of your emotions still running wild and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. The group of people are getting closer, their obnoxious singing getting louder as each second passes. They might not even know who Lando is, but you aren’t in the mood to wait around and find out, the last thing you want to deal with right now is drunk fans. “We’ve had too much to drink, my head and feet hurt. Let’s go home.” You grumble as you begin the trek home once again, your feet aching more and more with each step.
Lando stops for a moment and kicks off his shoes, he couldn’t let you walk in pain the whole way home. Especially after the pain he had caused moments ago. “Here put these on, your feet are killing you.” He hands you the white sneakers before squatting down in front of you to help you get your heels off.
Your feet already thank you as you slip on the oversized shoes that clomp on the stone street. And like a magnet you find yourself wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the street. You’re sure you two are a sight–you in shoes that are way too big and Lando only in socks as he holds your heels for you.
“You know you’re still an ass.” You tell him as you lean your head on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“You know you aren’t unloveable.” He hopes you know he’s being sincere, your words still replaying in his mind as you walk.
“I know.”
By the time you make it back to the villa you’re both exhausted. The alcohol, the argument, that moment between you two, the walk home– you were sure tomorrow morning would be a rough one. There aren’t many words spoken as you get ready for bed and as you slide under the covers next to Lando you can’t shake something from your mind from tonight, and it wasn’t the argument.
It was the fact that during the whole time you were chatting with Harry, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lando. There wasn’t the same sparkle in his eye like Lando, his smile wasn’t the same, his laugh. It seemed like everything that you noticed about this guy came second best to Lando. Sure you were having fun and he was nice, but not once had the thought of Lando slipped your mind. And even right now, with Lando next to you, you’re still somehow thinking about him.
It didn’t take long for Lando to fall asleep and you were on the verge of it when your phone went off on the nightstand. Usually, you would just ignore it, but something in you told you to see what it was.
harryinsta is now following you
You then see that he had sent you a DM and you’re expecting it to be about meeting up some time, which you were going to politely decline, but it’s quite the opposite.
harryintsa: i must have been mistaken earlier. lando's not an idiot.
yourinsta: huh?
harryinsta: he’s in love with you lol
Your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you read the message over and over again. Lando wasn’t in love with you, was he? Sure you’d heard it from just about everyone in your life that you two were in love with each other, but you always thought it was silly. You guys were just best friends is what you would always say, but to hear it come from a literal stranger was different.
You couldn’t lie that you hadn’t recently had your moments of perhaps thinking that he did, though you’d always talk yourself out of the idea. Although, if he was in love with you that may explain his behavior tonight. Or maybe it was just the alcohol like you’d originally thought. Then the tender moment you two shared entered your mind and suddenly the gears in your head are working overtime.
You locked your phone and sat it back down on the nightstand. Just from a simple DM you’d gone from being dead tired to now being wide awake– staring at the ceiling. You’re not sure how much time had passed as you laid there over analyzing every interaction with Lando. You were struggling enough trying to figure out the things you had recently felt about Lando, let alone the possibility that he was in love with you. All you knew for sure was that things weren’t the same between you two, you’d felt a shift when you were with him in Monaco before the Belgium GP. It had only amplified during this trip and you had a feeling that by the end of it things would be different.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Two days later you’re sunbathing on a comfy lounger on the beach, while Lando’s out in the water doing god knows what. You’d given up on watching him a while ago, deciding instead to be productive and try to catch up to Lando’s tan level. Which, after laying here for some time now, it seemed impossible. That boy could be in the sun for a day and have a glowing tan– you not so much.
Moments later you think a cloud has passed in front of the sun, but when you feel cool water droplets on your hot skin you peek open one eye to find a wet and grinning Lando standing over you. “Hi.”
“Hi.” You greet him back as you sit up, your smile matching his. “Did you have fun out there?”
“I had a lot of fun and the water felt amazing. You should have got in.”
“I will later.” You notice he’s got one of his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Lan, what have you got?” He tries to play dumb for a moment, trying to wind you up, but he eventually caves and pulls a plastic pail from behind his back. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a kid.” Your half joking and half being serious, because where the hell did he get that from?
“I did not steal it from a kid– I borrowed it.” The smile on his face never falls as he continues to speak. “They had a bunch of them. I don't think they’ll miss it. Plus I needed something to put your present in.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, curiosity written all over your face. “My present?”
He’s smiling so hard as he sits down at the end of the lounger that you think this must be the best present in the world. Seconds later the pail is turned upside down and out falls the prettiest seashells. Your heart swells when you realize all that time he had spent out in the water he was looking for shells– for you. There’s a light pink one that catches your eye and Lando notices when you reach for it.
“Knew you’d like that one.”
Of course he knew that, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself. “Can’t believe you spent all that time finding them.”
He shrugs like it’s an everyday thing. “I knew it would make you happy, which meant I enjoyed doing it. Really only took me so long because I wanted them all to be perfect for you.”
The sun beating down on you feels cold with how hard you’re blushing. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”
Lando starts to get shy when you get sappy, like he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing a second ago. He’s smiling, but focuses on carefully putting the shells back into the pail. “You’re my favorite person too.”
A while later you decide to open up the umbrella between the two loungers. You had chosen to give up on the tanning lifestyle and instead dive into a new book. While Lando was fast asleep on the lounger next to you, apparently all that hunting for shells had worn him out.
You’d noticed out of the corner of your eye awhile ago that a little boy kept glancing over in your direction, specifically at Lando. You knew he had to have been a fan or he was the kid Lando stole the pail from. The nervous glances back and forth tell you that thankfully he’s a fan and you think it’s the cutest thing. You’re in the middle of considering waking Lando up so the boy could come over when you hear a groan that is undoubtedly Lando awaking from his slumber.
“What are you looking at?” He asks as he rubs his eyes.
You nod your head in the direction of the boy who’s just seen that Lando is awake and is practically bouncing with glee. “Think you may have a fan.”
A big grin spreads across Lando’s face as he sees the little boy. Lando loved meeting all his fans, but meeting the kids was his favorite. He thinks a big part of the reason he always makes sure to find time for the younger fans was because he was that kid once. Before he was ever F1 driver Lando Norris, he was just a kid who finally got the chance to meet their idol and he knows that picture or an autograph means the world to them
Lando motions for the boy to come over and he’s instantly tugging on his Mom’s shirt to get her to come with him. She gives you guys a questioning look and when Lando motions again they both come over.
The little boy’s Italian accent is the cutest thing ever as he greets you two and you can tell just how much it means to him to be talking to Lando.
“What’s your name?” Lando asks as he signs a beach towel of all things.
“Luca and I’m seven!”
“Seven is a great age. You know I started karting when I was seven!”
Luca’s eyes get as wide as saucers as he glances back at his Mom, who is already shutting down any talk of Luca karting. “I told you possibly next year. You’re still my little baby. I don't want you getting hurt!”
Lando gives the Mom an apologetic look. “How about a picture?” Which easily takes Luca’s attention away from karting, as he’s already at Lando’s side with a big smile on his face before his Mom has her phone out.
They take a couple pictures and high fives are exchanged throughout their interaction. The whole thing is very sweet and you can’t help but look on in adoration, fully knowing that Lando would make a great Father one day.
You see that Luca keeps looking over at you and then back to Lando, but you don’t pay that much mind to it. You figured he was just nervous or something, but what comes out of his mouth next takes you by surprise.
“Your girlfriend is very pretty.”
You feel your heart skip a beat and you glance over at Lando to see what his reaction is. You prepare yourself for the worst, but in true Lando fashion he’s all smiles. In fact he’s sporting that full face smile of his and it makes you feel funny.
“Thank you buddy, I think so too.” He looks over at you with nothing but love in his eyes and you’re immediately looking away like some shy school girl.
Thankfully, the Mom comes to your aid and quickly changes the subject. “Ok Luca, you’ve bothered them enough. We should get back to our spot. Thank them for their time.”
His cute little voice mutters out grazie as he gives you a small wave goodbye.
“It was very nice to meet you, Luca.” Lando bids him farewell and you both wave back at the little boy.
As soon as they’re gone you’re immediately shoving your face back into your book, you don’t even want to talk about what had just happened. It was nothing really to be so worked up over, it was just a little kid who saw two people together and assumed they were together. It happens all the time. But it is a big deal when you find yourself liking being referred to as Lando’s girlfriend. It doesn’t help when neither of you deny it and correct the person. Lando likes to play into it and you love it too much to say anything.
Ever since getting that DM the other night your mind had been in a whirlwind over how Lando felt about you and how you felt about him. Hell you can’t even look at him right now, you’re so in your head that you’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. You just wished the book you were reading could tell you how to come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with your best friend.
It was something you’d realized the other night while you were awake overthinking everything. Those feelings had always been there, but you had just pushed them aside, ignoring every little butterfly or rapid heartbeat. When they actually turned into romantic feelings you have no clue because as far as you knew, you and Lando had always been like this.
You two just dove in head first into the co-dependent friendship that was more like a relationship lifestyle. All those times you’d gone to his parents house for family dinners and holidays, both of you attached at the hip. How he wanted to ask you to move to Monaco with him and then almost didn’t even move because he said he’d miss you too much. The group vacations that always ended up with you two going off and doing your own thing. The texts from him every Wednesday before a race asking if he needed to get you a paddock pass and a flight. This trip in particular– sleeping in the same bed when you don’t have to, the cuddling, the getting mistaken for a couple three times so far, the fact that it was just you two alone on the trip.
It was all there the whole time and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not realize it sooner. You were in love with him. You loved his pretty eyes and curls and the way his real laugh only seemed to come out around you. You loved his big heart and his caring nature and sometimes you thought he was too nice to be a Formula 1 driver.
You loved everything about him and truth be told it made your stomach hurt from how much you loved him. You wanted to actually be his and be able to kiss those pink lips that you sometimes found yourself staring at. When people said you were his girlfriend you wanted it to actually be true and not have it be Lando just playing along. You were so down bad that you prayed that Harry was right and that Lando was actually in love with you too.
While you were freaking out, so was Lando. When you immediately went back to reading your book and not speaking a word, he figured he had weirded you out by basically implying that you were his girlfriend. He just figured it was easier to go along with what the kid thought than explain that you weren’t his girlfriend, but god does he wish you were. He didn’t know what to say to try and test the waters because he knew whatever he would say would come out awkward and he didn’t want to make things worse. So, once again it’s not talked about and you two pretend that it didn’t happen when you finally speak again.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It’s the last day of the trip and you’re dreading going back to reality and away from this little slice of heaven. The only thing you have to look forward to is the supposed fancy dinner that Lando had planned for tonight, which was what you were currently getting ready for. Music plays through your phone and you softly sing along as you do your makeup. When you look up after digging in your makeup bag you spot Lando in the mirror, leaning against the door frame behind you. Your eyes lower and you see that he’s holding two gift bags.
"Those better be for your Mom.” You state as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.
“I think we both know they aren’t.” He sees you roll your eyes in the mirror and it only makes him want to spoil you more. “It’s our last day, I think you deserve a parting gift.”
You turn to face him as he makes his way over to you. “I haven’t gotten you a single thing this whole time. It makes me feel bad.”
Lando only shakes his head at you. “You being here with me is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I truly don’t need anything else.” He hands you the bags. “Now open them please.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you take the bags from him. You decide to open the bigger bag first and once you pull out the tissue paper you know exactly what it is. It’s still in its dust bag, but you see the branding and your jaw is dropping before you even see the actual thing. “You did not get me this bag Lando!” You exclaim as you remove the dust bag and see that it’s the same bag you were eyeing at the store the other day.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Saw you eyeing it and knew I had to get it for you and before you say anything else open the other present.”
You set the handbag down and grab the smaller gift trying to figure out what else he could have possibly gotten you. When you open it and see the bracelet you were also looking at the other day you’re at a loss for words. “Lando Norris!” You could slap him, hug him, kiss him, and yell at him all at once. He’d dropped probably close to six grand on these two gifts and your head is spinning at the thought of it.
“Don’t even say anything about the price. I know you’re thinking it, but I wouldn’t have bought you them if I couldn’t afford it. I wanted you to have them, you deserve nice things.” You deserved a lot more than a handbag and a bracelet, but what he thought you deserved money couldn’t buy.
You know there's no use in fighting him on it, but you still feel bad that he just spends all this money on you. He takes the bracelet from the box and fastens it around your wrist, the diamonds glittering in the light as you move it around. It’s truly stunning and the handbag will go great with your outfit tonight. As soon as you two make eye contact again you’re pulling him into a bone crushing hug and you two stay like that for probably longer than necessary. “Thank you a million times Lan. I love them both so much.”
It’s time to leave for dinner shortly after that and when you arrive at the restaurant the host guides you back to a secluded corner. It’s a very romantic ambiance and you can’t help but feel like you’re on a date, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. Moments later a waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “It’s on the house– for the special couple.”
There it is again and it seems like with each time it happens it makes your heart race even more. Lando shifts in his seat and you focus on the rising bubbles in the glasses as the waiter pours the champagne. Lando tells him thank you and your attention moves to the menu.
“What are you thinking about getting?” You ask, ignoring the obvious.
“Probably the steak.” He grabs the flute of champagne and takes a drink. “What was that? The fourth time now?”
You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you’re surprised he’s decided to talk about it. “Yeah it was.” You set the menu down and grab the other flute. “Think I’ll get the steak too.”
Dinner actually turns out to be an amazing time. The food is decadent and Lando and you have good conversations that don’t revolve around you two being mistaken for a couple or being in love with each other. When the waiter brings the bill you’re quite sad because that just means this trip is that much closer to being over.
You take your time heading back to the villa, trying to savor every last moment you’ve got here. The sun was low in the sky by the time you get back and you tell Lando just how you want to spend your final evening in Italy. You hurry and change into comfier clothes and take off all your makeup before heading to the spot with the best view out back. Lando makes his way out there not too long after you, but he’s got one more surprise for you.
“Don’t think the evening or this trip would be complete without this now would it?” He pulls a bottle of pink moscato from behind his back along with two wine glasses.
He knew you too well, but it was something you loved dearly about him. “You’re a man after my heart Norris.”
He hands you a glass as he sits down next to you, the sun just beginning to set on the horizon. “I try.”
There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a while and the only sound to be heard is from the waves below. It feels like paradise sitting here with this amazing view and the guy you love next to you. It’s probably boring to the majority of people, but this was everything you could ask for and more and the perfect way to end this amazing trip. You lean in closer to Lando, your head resting on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. A content sigh escapes past your lips as his thumb starts to draw mindless circles on your arm.
“Thank you again for everything. This trip was amazing and I’m glad we got to go together– just you and me.”
“I’m glad too. It was probably the best summer break trip I’ve had. Don’t think Ibiza will be seeing me for a while.”
You’re not even looking at him, but you can sense the smile on his face and you can’t help but laugh at his lie. “Yeah, and I don’t like pink moscato.”
“Alright so Ibiza will inevitably see me, but not as much as Italy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at you still resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling just by looking at you. “I think this may be our place now, just for the two of us.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he’s not sure if he wanted to say it outloud.
You lift your head up and are met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you. He looked radiant as golden hour cascades over him and it’s like you’re in a trance as you look at him. You take in every last bit of him, all the little details about him that you’ve memorized over the years. The slight stubble on his face from not shaving for a couple days, the little moles, his long and somehow always curled eyelashes, those pink lips of his. He’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. You’ve had him at fingertip length for so long now and all you want to do is reach out for him, take what you want and never let go.
Lando feels his breath catch in his throat as you two make eye contact. You’d never looked more beautiful than in this moment and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take without you actually being his. You were the love of his life, his best friend, and everything he’s ever wanted. It may have taken him a long time to realize it, but he’s never felt like this about anyone before. You know each other like the back of your hands and it only makes sense that you’d be the one for him.
And it’s in this moment that it clicks for you two that it’s now or never. You’re never going to have a perfect moment like this again. It feels right, like the universe wants this moment to happen and if you let it go to waste you may never get the chance again. Lando takes his free hand and gently cups your face, his thumb ever so softly rubbing across your cheek. You’re practically putty in his hands and you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. You want to scream out to him that you love him, that you want to be his, but you can barely get your brain to communicate with your mouth.
“Lan-”
That’s all you can get out before Lando’s leaning in and his lips are on yours. He tastes like the sugary sweet wine and his lips are soft as they move in sync with yours. Kissing him is even better than you’d imagined and as your hand reaches up to his neck you deepen the kiss. It feels like you two had kissed a thousand times before and as he pulls away you’re already left wanting more.
Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless and a little light headed from that singular kiss. When you both actually internalize what’s just happened you’re both grinning, that then turns into laughing and it’s like music to both of your ears to hear each other laugh.
“I think that was a long time coming.” You state as you finally lean back onto the couch.
Lando reaches out for your hand, intertwining his with yours. “When did you realize?”
“That night when we got into that argument, which looking back now, you were totally jealous.”
“I was not jealous!” He tries to be serious, but the knowing look on your face has him cracking. “Ok I was jealous.”
“When did you realize?” You question.
“That same night. I couldn’t understand why you flirting with that guy bothered me so much. Well I guess now we know.”
“Yeah cause you’re in loooveee with me.” You’re laughing as you speak, but he shuts you up with another kiss and leaves you pouting when he pulls away.
“Only kissed you twice and you’re already pouting when I pull away? I think you’re in loooveee with me.”
You lean back in, capturing his lips in yet another kiss and you’re like teenagers who’ve gotten into their first relationship.
Lando sighs when you stop kissing him, he can’t believe he could have had this sooner if he would have just opened his eyes. “You think you could get another week off from work?”
You’d do anything to get another week in a paradise with him, but you know it’s not possible. “Hmm, why don’t you just spend a week in London with me?”
“Well you haven’t even told them that you now have a famous F1 driver boyfriend. Who if they didn’t know already is very needy and needs to see his girlfriend.” He teases.
“Well you forgot to add that you’re my hot and famous F1 driver boyfriend.” You counter back.
You’re both grinning like fools at each other and as you curl up into his side and take in the last sunset you’ll see in the place that now holds such a special place in both of your hearts, you’re glad you let him convince you to come on this trip.
As the sun finally sets over the water you actually say those three little words.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
2K notes · View notes
inklore · 2 months
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the lake is for lovers.
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— tyler owens x f!reader
premise: summer will always be your favorite, spending weeks at the lake house with the crew. drinking, good food, sneaking off with tyler, making love under the stars. what more could a girl ask for?
contents: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, foreplay, coming inside, alcohol consumption, oral, weed mention, fluff, tyler’s favorite pet name is baby ok fight me, he’s also thick as hell | wc: 6k+
note: this fic started out as filth on a dock, which then turned into me making a getting d at the lake playlist, which only worsened my tyler brainrot and made me write these cluster of filthy blurbs.
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There were many reasons for you to love summer. 
Picnics under a favored willow tree, ice cream shops coming out with outlandish sugary concoctions that could take down even the most rambunctious five year old. The days are longer, filled with more laughs and bonfires. Fireworks—as if that had a designated season to be let off, Boone would take on anyone who thought differently. 
Tornado season was over, which, depending on who you asked, was not a reason to love the overheated season.
But your favorite thing about summer was by far the weeks you and the crew spent at Dex’s lake house back in Arkansas. A lake house that had gone from his retirement home when he left a shitty corporate job to a summer sanctuary for the family he found doing what he truly loved.
So every summer, all of you loaded up Tyler’s truck, the van, and the motor home and headed to the private dwelling, where you would spend the rest of the summer swimming, napping on the dock, raiding Boone’s smoke stash, and finding the nearest field to stare up at the stars. 
Or your favorite: drinking until Tyler wrangled you into the house and into bed before you and Dani took the boat out for a joy ride, or you and Lilly had another incident of lighting said boat on fire with a miss trajectory of a firework that Boone gets scolded at for bringing out when everyone was three sheets to the wind by your wrangler.
As if he didn’t love it.
As if he had not convinced you all to jump into the lake naked one night. 
“Oh no,” The man himself shook his head. Placing his hand over yours, your fingers wrapped around the head of a bottle of tequila. The cart already filled with boxes of Miller and Budweiser.
“Oh yes.” Your fingers wrapped together around the bottle, pulling it halfway off the shelf before he actually used force to stop you—that force being lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing.
Moving his body so he was standing beside you, chest to chest. Your brows raise when you try to pull the bottle again, and he squeezes your fingers harder.
“Tyler.” 
“Baby.” 
You roll your eyes, “Boone wants it.”
“Yeah, Boone wants it!” 
You both can’t help laughing as you hear the man himself yelling from three shelves away. 
“Lilly wants it too!” 
“Don’t be a pussy,” Dani yells as if there aren’t other people in the store with you—Tyler leaning his head back with a sigh, his mouth pulled in a smile. 
If the shop owner wasn’t used to the group of you making a pit stop at the decently sized—rundown—off the road liquor store several times during the summer; you’re sure he would have kicked half of you out. 
“Yeah,” you say, giving him that teasing smile, turning your head to the side. Walking your free fingers up his chest. “Don’t be a pussy.” You whisper, looking up at him. His smile turns into a smirk as he leans down, his lips hovering above yours. 
“The last time ya’ll had Tequila Boone got stuck on the roof.” He is completely serious, but he says it in that voice that makes you want to melt into his hands and do whatever he wants. That stern undertone that made you want to listen and rebel—either outcome was always one you loved. 
You nod. “True, but.” Your palm flattens against his chest, moving up until your fingers play with the baby hairs at the back of his neck. “If I recall, you weren’t complaining when you were fucking me sober that night. So, if anything, I think it’s a win for all of us.” 
“Not for Boone.”
“Not for Boone.” You both smile before pressing your lips together, Tyler’s hand guiding the bottle into the cart, trapping you between him in the cart when his arms wrap around your middle. 
“Glad you could see it my way.” You bite your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering, as he gives you that sweet smirk when you grab the ball cap from his head and slip it on yours. Pulling out of his arms to walk down the aisle, “now hurry up, so we can revisit memory lane.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
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The first morning you’re there is when your worst hangovers occur. 
The first night of drinking is always the hardest you do, as if the steam of working for months wrangling and chasing storms has finally been let out. Decompressed of the pressures of having to worry about live streaming and fixing something on Ty’s truck.
It was a blessing that the nearest neighbor was at least five minutes away, with Tyler’s perfectly curated playlist blaring from the speakers that lined the aforementioned truck. Boone being louder than the aforementioned music, Dani and Lilly hollering when one of them loses whatever competitive thing they’re doing. Dex mixing up some concoction inside the house and insisting it’ll help with the hangover, even though you all know it won't, but damn, does it taste good. 
You and Tyler occupying yourselves around the fire, his hands on your hips, holding you close to him as you sway to the music. His lips at your neck, leaving small nips and kisses along your skin until you turn around to scowl at him. His hands slipping into the back pockets of your shorts. 
“You’re a bad dance partner.” 
“You’re even worse.” His hand wraps around yours to press to the front of his jeans, where he’s hard and straining against them. “Can’t focus on my moves when my girl’s causin’ such a distraction.”
You smile up at him, running your fingers along the outline of his dick. “Poor boy. Should your girl take you upstairs and fix this little problem?”
“Little?” His brows raise, giving you a look that makes you laugh at the amusement on his face. “Now we’re definitely going upstairs.” 
You’re laughing all the way up the stairs, Tyler grinning as he talks shit the entire way up, slapping your ass until it feels red and raw through your shorts. 
And when he has you naked and pressed to the mattress, your ass in the air, thighs coated in your own slick from him, bringing you right to the precipice of your orgasm, only to keep taking it away until you started whining and he gripped your hips and flipped you over. Pulling your hips up, his teeth biting into your ass cheek. 
The head of his cock runs through your folds, the wet noise that comes from him separating them to press at your entrance makes you whimper. 
When he pushes in slow, too fucking slow, your fingers dig into the quilt. Your legs shaking, your body wanting to pull away from the intrusion—no matter how stretched out you already are from his fingers and tongue, the burn from the stretch of his cock never compares to it. Always stretches you out until you feel too full, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
Tyler presses a kiss at your tailbone, his cock almost fully inside of your fluttering pussy. “Still think it’s little, baby?”
And after you’re coated in sweat and your throat is hoarse and raw, your legs jelly, your pussy feeling swollen and dripping from the several orgasms Tyler fucked out of you—and the come he fucked into you; wrapping your legs around his hips so there was nowhere for either of you to go while he did so; your body is limp against his chest. His fingers running along your spine. 
You feel completely spent and sedated, the liquor aiding in the job of lulling your body completely. But Tyler is all smiles and wide awake—after all these years together, you still have no idea what makes a tornado wrangler tired. 
He’s always raring to go, and it’s both hot and frustrating at the same time. 
You groan when he moves your body gently off of his, making a quick trip downstairs. A glass of water in his hand seconds later, demanding you sit up and drink half, even through your protests. A hand rubbing at your back. 
“Good girl,” he says, sweetly kissing your cheek and putting the glass on the nightstand. He’ll ask you if you want to shower because the both of you are covered in sweat and come and you’ll only reply by pulling him back down in bed with your face pressed to his chest. 
His chuckle shakes your cheek when he shuts the lamp off, pulls the quilt over your shoulders, and presses a kiss atop your head. 
But best believe he pulls your ass into the shower when the sun rises. Your head pounding from the shots you and Lilly threw back and from the beers you drained. Tyler’s fingers are gentle as he washes your hair. Gentle as he washes your body. He presses a kiss on each of your shoulders when he washes your back.
That space between your legs still feeling swollen from last night's activities, but his fingers still find their way between them. His palm on the shower wall as he stands behind you and rubs your clit until you’re coming. 
Teeth, lips, and tongue at the back of your neck coaching you through it, “that’s my girl.” He’ll praise you like you’ve just wrangled your own kind of storm. A storm he caused. 
A storm that always helps your pounding headache just a little more than the eggs Dexter places on your plate when you make your way downstairs. 
“I think I’m goin’ sober for the resta’ the summer.” Boone groans between his palms. Palms that are stopping his drooping head from falling into his eggs.
“Lilly’s making flamin’ peppers tonight.” Dani grins from the head of the table, chewing on a piece of bacon. It has the reaction you all expect, Boone picking up his head, perking up, and feigning excitement. 
“Really?” 
You all laugh together, regardless of how much it hurts your temples. 
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“You’re supposed to be soaking up the heat, not staring, Owens.” 
You squint from the sun as you turn your head to him, the two of you lying out on the dock. Letting the sun dry you off from your swim in the water. Something that should be relaxing.
But Tyler clearly distracted himself by staring at you. 
“Can’t I do both?” He grins, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand.
“You’re gonna have the worst farmer's tan.”
“Worth it for the view.” He kisses you, his finger and thumb lightly pinching your chin. 
It doesn’t take long for his kiss to progress from a sweet peck to something more as his tongue licks into your mouth. With the way his thumb circles your nipple through your swimsuit, his hand moves down your torso to the top of your bottoms, easily slipping past them. 
“Tyler,” you warn through a breath when his finger runs along your folds. 
“What?” He smiles against your neck, “it’s just us.”
“Dani and Dexter are literally out on the water.”
“They’re tryna catch dinner. They’re far gone.” The pad of his finger runs against your clit in a slow circle. Making you gasp, your hips chasing the touch. 
“Boone,” you swallow. Try to be the level headed one here, “Lilly.” 
“Store.” He says it simply. Teeth nipping at your ear, “let me make my girl come.” His finger adds pressure to your clit, making you moan. “Please,” he whispers against your ear. 
And if this man made you a sane woman, you’d pull his hand away and make him take you inside. But sanity has no room around Tyler. Sanity didn’t send you into a tornado with him. Didn’t have you riding him in the front seat of his truck after afternoons of chasing, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.
No, being in love with Tyler Owens causes sanity to fly out the window. Made you throw caution to the wind. Made you chase that high. Made you ride it. 
Made you want and beg for more.
His love was soft and ever consuming. A gentleness that made up for the intensity of everything else. It’s why it was so easy for you to put your life in his hands every single day you went out into the storm.  
That’s why your legs bend and open for him, and why you let his fingers fuck you on the dock where you could easily get caught. His thumb rubbing your clit, your body burning, your pussy clenching and pulling his fingers in. 
“Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” He grunts in your ear as your hips move, fucking yourself down on his fingers when your orgasm gets closer and closer until you’re coming and his hand is in your hair, pulling your mouth to his so he can swallow your loud moan. Can hold you through the euphoric high that has your body shivering even with the sun shining down on it. 
His fingers slip from you wet and coated with your come. His eyes never leave yours when he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean before grinning, grabbing your jaw, and sharing the fruits of his labor. 
“Hey, lovebirds,” Lilly hollers as she slams the van door. “Come help us!” 
"Comin',” Tyler yells back, a smirk on his face as his eyes waggle at the double meaning. 
“You’re ridiculous.” You laugh, pushing at his chest as you stand and walk down the dock. Arms wrap around you, making you both waddle down the rest of the way. Tyler kissing your cheek. You can still feel his hardness against your ass—hardness that was just grinding itself against your hip. 
“I love you,” he says softly. 
“More?” 
“More than anything.” 
You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling. “Infinitely.” 
“Unbound.” 
When you two step off the last wood plank of the dock, you stop, both turning your heads to kiss each other. Your hand lifts to run your fingers through the back of his hair. 
"Oh, don’t worry, we got it, ya’ll!” Lilly says sarcastically from the porch. 
You smile against Tyler’s lips. “I love you. But let's go help before she refuses to share the good snacks with us.”
“Damn right, I will!” She yells as she shakes a box of said snacks in her arms. 
Tyler laughs and presses one last kiss on your lips before he untangles himself from you and runs over to the van. 
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“Ain’t no way!”
“Pick up the slack!”
“I’m doin’ my best here!” 
You and Tyler laugh as Dani and Boone argue as you both sink the white balls into their cups. Dani scowling as she downs her drink, and Boone raises his high with a frown as he does the same. 
When Boone misses and Dani gets one in their next turn, the way they cheer and high five warms something inside of you instead. Brings joy to the already loose buzzing that thumps through your veins from how many sips you’ve had tonight. Your cheeks are heated and hurting from all the laughing you’ve been doing. 
You grab the cup, ready to down its contents but Tyler puts his hand over the top, grabbing it from you and downing it in one gulp. Sending you a wink. Whispering in your ear when he leans over the table to put the now empty cup alongside the other ones, “I want to take you somewhere.” 
It’s all the explanation you need as to why he doesn’t want you too far gone. You hadn’t seen him drink anything tonight besides the few cups Dani and Boone—mostly Dani—landed their ball in. 
Some nights, he doesn’t drink at all.
Some nights he makes sure everyone goes to bed with something other than booze warming your stomachs—usually a frozen pizza he always burns at the bottom, or the infamous Ty Club Sandy, as Boone has deemed to call it. Filling you up until you are on the cusp of being sober and ready for your heads to hit your pillows. 
Tyler took his appointed mother hen role even further for the rest of the night until the aforementioned heads hit your pillows.
Sitting in the caravan with Boone for hours until he exhausted himself from talking about new ideas for the channel and one of his favorite subjects: pyrophilia. 
Or lounging on the couch and listening to Lilly and Dani talk about ways to make Kyro better, new elements to add for better views in the sky. 
Dexter always passes out before anyone, filling his gut and waving goodnight before disappearing down the hall.
Tyler making his way up to your bedroom after everyone had gone off to bed. Cleaning himself up and crawling under the sheets with you—having sent you up to bed hours ago with a pat on your ass and plans to be ready for him when he got up there, knowing full well you would fall asleep before an hour even passed.  
His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, face pressed into the back of your neck. The two of you drifting off to sleep. You take it upon yourself to keep his plans of being ready for him when you wake him up with your mouth wrapped around his cock. 
His hips pushing up into your mouth, languid and sporadic, until he’s fully woken up. His jaw tightens before falling open when he looks down at you and watches you circle your tongue around his tip. 
“Morning,” you’ll say with a smile and he’ll groan softly. Matching your smile with a grin of his own, that look of lust and desire morphs his beautiful features into something needy.
He’ll try to speak, try to say something sweet or filthy, but the words never come out. Just heavy pants and his teeth swelling up his bottom lip as he watches you—as he throws his head back against the pillow and groans.
When you pull him out of your mouth and straddle his hips, you reach behind you to guide him through your wetness, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Mouth twitching when you slide down on him slowly. When your own eyes flutter closed from the burning stretch. 
You ride him slowly, leaving marks along his neck and chest from your lips and nails digging into his skin when he tries to buck his hips up—fuck you harder. Set the pace that he craves so much when you are on top of him like this. A pace he adores, from how lost you become in pleasure, from your tits bouncing in his face, to how beautiful you look taking the reins. 
But you stop your movements each time you feel his hips move. The look he gives you is pitiful and needy.
“Fuck, baby.” 
You smile, lean down, and kiss his chin as you start to move your hips again, just as slowly. “I’m just tryna make up for last night.”
“You’re killin’ me.” 
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After the two of you have wiped the floor with Boone and Dani and they’re demanding Lilly and Dex go against them next because they know they’ll actually win this time; Tyler grabs your hand and walks you to his truck, opening the door for you to climb inside. 
“Is it safe for you to drive?”
“Would I put you in a situation where you weren’t safe?” He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it. 
You can always tell when he’s buzzed or drunk; his cheeks get flushed and his eyes squinting more than usual when he smiles or laughs. He’s sober. 
When you finally get to the spot, you turn to give Tyler a look. He’s all smiles as he drives through a field of tall grass, turning the wheel to back up his truck the rest of the way before coming to a stop once you reach a clearing that seems like nothing but marsh land. 
Until you’ve stepped out of the truck and walked around the back. Your eyes light up when you see a pond a little bigger than an EF3 filling the rest of the field. 
The moon and stars shine off the water, painting it in the darkest blue you’ve ever seen. Water lilies float along the top, with pickerelweed and cattails lining the edges. The crickets and lightning bugs add to the ambience of it all. 
“How did you find this?” You ask as he helps you climb up into the bed of the truck, where a blanket and pillows are already laid down. 
“Dex told me about it.” 
“You sap’s.” You say with a sweet smile, pulling him down to your lips. 
Tyler only further proves the sap allegations when he pulls out two of your favorite bags of snacks. His back leaned against the pillows, you leaning against him, his arms around you as you shared the salty and sweet treats. Your hand reaching back to feed him as you look up at the stars. 
“You’re so beautiful,” Tyler whispers against your lips when the snacks are gone, fingers licked clean, kisses pressed to lips, the mood changing until you’re naked and under him and his hips are thrusting slowly between your thighs. “So pretty,” he kisses you, runs his lips along your jaw, “perfect,” latch on the side of your neck, “my girl.” His words attenuated by his thrusts. 
His fingers are in your hair, at the back of your neck, and on your chest, playing with your nipples, squeezing a hand around them, and bringing his mouth to the pert bud. Teeth nipping at your collar bone, tongue licking between the space of your breasts, grunts against your ear. Fingers at your hip, against your clit—he’s everywhere. Consuming you. Pulling you apart, putting you together, slowly, gently, with a stroke, a touch, a kiss, a bite. 
Fucking you like it’s the first time. 
Fucking you like he has all the time in the world. 
Like he wants you to feel his love with every thrust. Every praise in your ear. 
Your fingers dig into his biceps, legs lifting and pressing against his sides, pushing him deeper inside you. Your breath heavy, your moans, sweet mewls, music to his ears. 
“Tyler,” you whimper against his shoulder. 
His arms bracket around your head, thrusts picking up when he feels your pussy tighten around his cock. “I know, baby.” His words are breathed into your ear, heavy and weak, letting you know he’s just as close. “Gonna come, you gonna take it like a good girl?” You nod, dig your nails into his back, reaching your peaks together. 
Tyler stays on top of you even after your breaths have evened out. His thumb runs along your cheek as he looks down at you. His smile is soft and filled with love. It makes your stomach flutter—something that hasn’t stopped since the day you met him. 
When he finally does pull out, neither of you move to right yourselves or head back. He covers you with another blanket he pulls from somewhere behind you. Your head against his chest as you look up at the sky. Tyler’s fingers playing with yours. A peaceful silence passes between you for what feels like forever, basking in each other. Listening to the bugs and frogs around the pond. 
“Marry me.” 
You chuckle softly, “your come hasn’t even dried inside me yet.” You joke. Don’t think twice about it; it hadn’t been the first time he had playfully asked you. Declared to the world that you would be his wife one day: in a tornado riding the high, saying he would make you his wife when you put your computer science degree to good use and ran better numbers than he could have come up with on his own. When you would have to travel home to visit family for a week and leave the crew behind, his arms squeezing you upon your return, saying the winds are dead, everything's dead when you’re not around, don’t leave again, marry me. 
So you don’t chalk it up to anything but that until you feel something cold slip onto your finger. Tyler brings your hand up so the moon is shining down on it, a pretty diamond twinkling in the moonlight. 
“Marry me.”
Your heart falling to the pit of your stomach as you rush to sit up. Your palm against your chest, your eyes wide, and staring down at your hand before whipping around to look at him. The smile on his face is to fucking die for. 
“Tyler.”
“Baby.” 
“Are you serious? Are you sure?” 
He laughs, reaches out for you, and pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been sure since the day I saw you.”
“That’s dramatic.” 
“Ask Boone,” he smiles. Stares down at the ring on your finger that you still have held up, “told him five months into us datin’ that I had a ring picked out.”
You chew on your bottom lip, try to hold back the tears that pool in your eyes. “That’s insane.” 
“If you want somethin’, you take it.” 
“You already got me.”
“And I ain’t ever letting go.” He grabs your hand, rubs his thumb against the ring on your finger. Looks at you with so much love that you think you could die from it and be just as happy as you are right now. “Will you marry me?” 
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more in your life. 
“Yes.”  
“Yes?” He asks as if he’s surprised, his smile and laugh filled with a childish joy and happiness. Like a child finally getting a gift he had always wished for.
“Yes!” 
He grabs your face, kissing you. Kissing you until you are both laughing and it’s all teeth and someone's crying, and you’re not sure if it’s him or you or who’s shaking or cheering. 
“I love you,” he says. You can feel his heart pumping against the palm on his chest. His palms are hot against your tear stained cheeks. Thumb swiping loose droplets away. 
“More?” 
“More than anything.” 
You can’t even finish your little rhyme before kissing him again. Whispering that you love him back against his lips. This man was going to be your husband. This man who has completely taken over your life and swirled it upside down since the first day you saw him. 
This man who has shown you a new world. Given you new meanings of life. Given you a love that puts storybooks to shame. Given you a family that will only grow if the two of you decide on it, but is already so perfect the way it is. 
You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone but Tyler Owens. 
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The next day, you obviously have to celebrate. 
The entire crew cheered and rushed you when the two of you had come home, and Tyler lifted your hand to the sky like you just won something. 
“Yes!”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!”
“That’s ma boy!”
“Bout time!”
Boone spins you, Lilly is already mapping out the perfect location for the nuptials, and Dani and Dex are hugging and clapping Tyler on the back. 
So the next day is one big celebratory day. 
Dex prepares a breakfast so large that you all groan and sprawl in the living room while watching movies you have all seen a dozen times, aiding in your hearty meal putting you to sleep. 
A nice nap that has you all waking up more rested than before and spending the rest of the afternoon out on the water. Tyler and Dex grill the fish you caught when you come home.
Your legs in Tyler’s lap, all of you sedated and full, and laughing around the table afterwards until Boone comes through the screen door with two bottles in his hand: tequila and whiskey. 
“Oh no,” Lilly says, laughing against her hand. 
“Absolutely not.”
“You never mix light and dark, comin’ Boone, you know this!”
"Guys, we’re celebratin’,” Boone ignores everyone’s protests and grabs the shot glasses he was keeping for safekeeping in his pockets, apparently. Filling them up with tequila when he asks the bride to be which she wants, a big smile on his face. 
He slides yours and Tyler’s over to you, Tyler shaking his head with amusement written all over his face when you frown playfully and say, “Happy wife, happy life?” 
He sighs and pinches your legs, teasing, and grabs the shot glass. “I’m not helpin’ you off the roof this time.” 
Boone makes a face, and everyone clinks their glasses together, throwing back the liquor.
It’s the first of many shots that has you hours later playing some kind of drinking game that you forget the rules of, which then leads into Boone and Tyler accusing you and Lilly of cheating. Which then leads to the four of you settling it by seeing who can shotgun a beer faster. 
“You got this!” Dani pat’s Lilly on the shoulder like a fighter about to get into the cage. 
Tyler smirks down at you, “you sure ‘bout this, baby?” 
“Don’t call me that. You’re the enemy!” You put your hands on your hips and step up to him. Staring up at him in the most intimidating way you can, even though he could throw you over his shoulder easily in seconds. Your voice low enough for only him to hear you say, “we both know I’m really good with my mouth.” 
His teeth sink into his bottom lip. “Won’t argue with you there.” His thumb comes up and runs against your jaw, “let’s make a bet, alright? You win, I’ll show you how good my mouth is, and if I win, you show me.” 
You smirk, “deal.” 
Once the beers are handed out and the bottoms have been punctured, your thumb presses against the slit, and a glare shot over at Tyler. His grin never leaves his face, even when Dex and Dani yell go, and all of you are putting the bottoms of your beers in your mouths. 
Your gaze locks on his the entire time. Your mouth almost slips when his hand comes up to hold your can to your mouth better, his fingers squeezing, making you swallow faster. Finish faster. You and Lilly cheering when you win. 
A win that Tyler clearly aided in. 
A win he was more than happy to give you. 
And if you didn’t love having his mouth on your pussy, you would probably fight harder against him letting you win. But it’s hard to be mad when later he’s between your thighs, fingers spreading your pussy to give him even more access to your throbbing clit. 
Your hips guide his mouth where you want it, where you need it, and how you want his tongue to move against your clit. How you want his lips to suction against you. Tyler always listening to your body. 
Your fingers are messing up his hair, “why did you let me win?” 
He smiles around your clit, “I think I won.” He bites your thigh before turning his attention back to the part of your body he is fucking his tongue against, eliciting whimpers and moans from your lungs. Your back arching up from the mattress. 
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Some nights are chiller than others. 
Some nights, you give your livers a break and hangout around the fire for hours. Dex telling stories, Dani and Lilly rolling Boone’s stash into tight blunts they share amongst those who want it. Boone lying in the grass, listening intently to Dex. You sat in Tyler’s lap, his fingers running along your legs. 
His fingers sometimes find the ring on yours, twisting it around. Making sure it’s still there. He smiles over at you and leans in for a kiss. 
The night is filled with a lot more laughs when three out of the six of you are baked and bring out the s’mores kit’s Lilly bought for each of you. 
“Six is a bit much.” 
“Uh, have you seen the way Boone eats?” 
“She’s got ya there.” Boone agrees as he tears into a burnt marshmallow on the stick in his hand. 
Tyler roasts you one, holds the stick while you happily eat the melted sugar. “Want some?” You ask, his answer comes in the form of placing his mouth over yours and kissing you until your mouth parts and his tongue runs along your bottom lip and into your mouth. 
“When you guys get married, will we see less of this?”
“More probably.”
“Less. They’ll have their own place by then.” 
“Ah, what? We won’t all be shackin’ up together?”
“Boone, they’ll be married.”
“They’re basically married now!” 
You laugh against Tyler’s lips, “ya’ll are losing your invites real fast.” He says turning towards them. 
“What did I do?” Dex asks innocently around a marshmallow. 
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Some nights, it gets so hot that not even the cold from the lake can be whipped through the windows by the breeze. The trees still. The humidity heavy and sticky, making you wake up with sweat glistening on your skin.
The two fans blowing towards the bed useless. 
“Tyler.” You whine softly as you push his arm from your midsection. Can’t stand to feel the warm heat of his chest pressing to your back, mixed with the humidity filling the room. 
“Baby,” he says groggily. Putting his arm back around  your waist and pulling you close again.
“You’re going to give me heatstroke. How are you not dying?” You groan, freeing yourself from his grip long enough to remove your tank top and shorts before he grabs you again. More awake now than before. 
“The fans are goin’,” he says softly into your neck.
“They’re useless.” 
He chuckles, “want to go jump in the lake?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He hums, kisses your shoulder, doesn’t care that your body is coated in a sheen of sweat as his lips move to your neck, his hand cupping your cheek. He turns your head back to his. “I can distract you,” he smirks. Hips moving against your ass, his dick hard. 
“You’ll only make it worse,” you breathe when he bites the skin just below your ear. 
“Ya sure?” His other hand slips between the two of you, pushing your panties to the side and pulling himself from his briefs. “I don’t gotta put it in, baby.” He positions his cock so it’s rubbing through your folds, his tip moving against your clit, making you moan into his mouth. 
Ass pushing back against him, “I can make you forget all ‘bout the heat and focus on coming along, my cock.” When the slide of his cock becomes more slick from your pussy growing wetter, he grunts against your mouth. “See, your body has already forgotten about it. It needs somethin’ else.” You whine, wrap your fingers around his wrist. Moan in his mouth, “what’s it need, baby?” The tip of his cock teases with the slightest pressure against your entrance, your body bracing, craving the stretch, only for him to take it again. “What do you need, baby?”
“You,” you breathe. Look at him with hooded eyes, chin wobbling. 
“Say it again,” he grunts.
“I need you, Tyler.” His mouth twitches when he slides inside of you, his eyes watching as your eyes close in ecstasy. Nails digging into his wrist from the stretch of his cock. 
“It’s all yours,” he kisses you. Says your name when he lets out that shaky groan when he’s bottomed out. When your body shudders while trying to adjust. His voice a mumble against your skin when he asks you if you’re ready for him to move, if you can take it, if you want to take it, knows you can take it. Be a good girl, and take what you want, what you need; it’s yours.
He’s yours.
Infinitely. 
Unbound.
Always.
His.
2K notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 1 year
Note
Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺
Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo
Something Imagined / Something Real
Word Count: 3.9K
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst
Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA
Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.
The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 
“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 
Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”
“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 
“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 
But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 
“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 
Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 
“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 
“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 
Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.
“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 
“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 
“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”
Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.
After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 
It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 
Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.
“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 
The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”
“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 
“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 
Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.
“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 
“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 
Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 
As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 
Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.
Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 
He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 
That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 
Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 
The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 
Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 
But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?
She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.
It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.
So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 
“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”
Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 
“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.
“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 
Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 
“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.
Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.
But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.
Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 
“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”
Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 
The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 
Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 
Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?
“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 
“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”
“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 
“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 
“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”
Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.
But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 
***
He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 
Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 
“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 
The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 
“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 
Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 
“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.
“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 
Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 
“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.
“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.
“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 
Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 
Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 
Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.
“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”
Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.
“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”
She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 
“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.
“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”
“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”
Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.
“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 
Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 
“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 
“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 
Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”
She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 
But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 
“Why?” he asked quietly.
She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 
“Why what?”
“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 
Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”
Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 
“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 
Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 
“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 
“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 
She held his gaze, speechless. 
“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”
Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 
“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 
“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.
Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 
“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”
“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.
“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.
“Could I hug you?” she whispered.
The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 
Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.
Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   
She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 
“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 
He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 
It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Can we get a James potter pregnancy fic like the moon water one? I just on ow he’d be so sweet and doting and wouldn’t let you lift a finger.
it's so true though - he would be a master coddler, & sorry to leave you waiting since April, this fic gave me a run for my money 🥺
James Potter x pregnant wife!reader who interrupts game night
CW: mentions of pregnancy, gambling?
Sirius was not too proud to admit that he felt immediately guilty when he realised the mistake he had made.
As you got further along in your pregnancy, James had become increasingly less inclined to leave your side for any extended amount of time.
It got to the point that James actually took a leave of absence from work, and was now debating whether or not he’d ever go back once the baby was born. 
Remus, Sirius, and Peter all had bets on how long that was going to last, knowing how…involved James could be, not withstanding the potential pregnancy hormone related fits of anger and exhaustion. 
So, this week's game night (and likely every remaining one until perhaps your child went to Hogwarts) was being hosted at James’.
“Sorry boys, I just don’t want to risk not being here in case she needs anything, you know?” He had said. 
And they did know; and quite frankly, Sirius was looking forward to not having to clean up after his sodding friends, so there were no complaints from him or Moony. And your place was closer to Peter’s flat, so he was happy for an excuse to take an evening stroll.
So when the four friends were sitting around a circular dining table, bickering over whose turn it was in their game of muggle poker and you were - what was only now very clear to Sirius - tiptoeing down the stairs of your townhouse, Sirius really shouldn’t have made your presence known. 
“What are you doing up?” James asked as he quickly dropped his cards - face down, dammit - onto the table to make his way over to you after being alerted to your presence by Sirius’ traitorous smile and wave.
“I just wanted a snack, Jamie.” You admitted, half bashful and half frustrated at the fussing, though you accepted James' embrace willingly.
Sirius thought the hug looked awkward, seeing as how the two of you needed to leave so much room for your belly. 
“You should’ve told me, angel; I would have gotten it for you.” He chided gently as he ushered you (forced you) into his seat with a gentle hand on your back.
You smiled apologetically at the boys as you sat in James’ seat with only a small groan and a hand on your belly.
“Sorry, Trouble.” Sirius apologised quickly. But you - the sweet ‘angel’ that you were - simply waved him off. 
“Even if I had made it to the kitchen, he would have heard me rummaging in the fridge.” You said simply, picking up James’ cards and reorganising them.
“Has he got anything good?” Peter asked quickly, causing you to shake your head no before putting the cards back down.
“Damn sod’s been bluffing; he was always such a terrible liar at Hogwarts when he was the lookout for our pranks, how on earth can he bluff?” Remus asked incredulously as he dropped his own hand down on the table (face down, damnit). 
“He’s not bluffing; I don’t think he has a clue how to play this game.” You explained simply.
“You should come to all of our game nights.” Sirius chuckled as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow. 
You chuckled and looked towards the kitchen. “The point of gamenights was for you four to get together, and for me to have a quiet house.”
“Please.” James called as he made his way out of the kitchen with a tray of various treats in one hand and a large cup of ice water in the other. “You gave up having a quiet house the second you said ‘I do’.” 
You accepted a loving kiss to your temple as he handed the cup of water to you and placed the tray in front of you on top of his cards. 
If Sirius didn’t get a peak at someone’s cards really fucking soon-
“How many more weeks do you have?” Remus asked you then; probably a polite thing to ask a pregnant couple but Sirius was a little preoccupied wondering if there was an X-ray vision spell he could use to see through Peter’s cards. 
“Too many.” You responded as James offered a jovial “It’s gone by so quickly!” 
“Jamie, I really don’t think you get to say that.” You admonished him, though Sirius could tell the furrow of your brows was all for show. 
“What? Why? I feel like this pregnancy has just flown by!” 
“Oh, well I’m very glad you feel that way.” You sneered. “But you’re not the one who had to stretch and grow and carry around a bowling ball.”
Sirius felt himself swallow nervously in James’ honour, but the dumb sod simply beamed at you lovingly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s because you’ve done it so beautifully, angel; you made it look easy.”
And damn James and his smoothness; he had even Sirius blushing.  
“Alright, I’m in.” Remus announced then as he pushed a pile of chips towards the centre of the table.
“Me too.” Peter agreed as he followed in suit.
Sirius felt like he was grasping at billywigs, but he felt he had a better chance than James, so he, too, bet a couple of chips. 
“What say you, Prongs?” Peter asked then.
James turned back to the game, looking surprised as if he’d forgotten they’d been playing at all.
“Oh, I fold.” He said simply.
“What!?” Sirius screeched as he threw his cards down on the table. 
Remus made an exasperated groaning sound as he also placed his cards face up.
“Yeah, I had nothing.” James responded with a casual shrug.
“Nice.” Peter murmured quietly as he took in the state of Remus and Sirius’ cards before placing his own down on the table and pulling the chips towards himself.
“For fucks sake!” Sirius shouted.
“Pads! Little ears!” James chided.
“Are they even fully developed yet?” Sirius muttered back, earning him a swat up the back of the head from his boyfriend. 
“Oh yes.” You said solemnly. “Babe has been very active everytime Uncle Pads talks.”
Sirius paused in his tussle with Moony to whip his head towards you. “Really!?”
You smiled and nodded, holding your hand out for his which he took willingly and allowed you to place it to a particularly hard spot on your stomach.
“Say something.” You instructed.
“I solemnly swear I am up to no good!” He chanted, the end of his sentence rising an octave (or two, if you asked Moony) when he felt a little kick right underneath his hand. “Oh my godric!”
“I wanna feel.” Remus murmured as he reached over his boyfriend to swap places.
“Mischief managed.” Sirius continued, feeling the slight jump of excitement in Remus’ body at the movement he obviously felt beneath his hand. 
“Oh gods, you’re gonna have a trouble maker.” Peter remarked with a shake of his head, though his smile let you know the comment was made in jest. 
“Oh, there was never any doubt about that, considering who the father is.” You quipped back, smiling lovingly up at James who simply beamed down at you in turn. 
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair, boys.” You said as you made to stand. “Let you get back to your games.” 
Your sentence was met with a round of dissent. 
“No, no mama. We’ll leave.” Sirius argued as he too stood. 
“What? Why are we leaving!?” Pete asked then.
“Peter, you already took all our money, leave the expecting parents to their evening, yeah?” Remus reprimanded, causing the three of them to look over only to see James blanketed over you from behind with both of his hands resting on your stomach as he murmured softly into your ear.
Your eyes were closed as you allowed James to rock the two of you back and forth with a soft smile spread across your face. 
“Come on Petey, we’re officially intruding.” Sirius added as he tossed another chip at his friend. “Take this for the road - I’ll be winning it all back at our next game night.”
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jaylaxies · 6 months
Text
NOW OR NEVER
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PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.
SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.
WC: 1.4k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”
You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.
You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.
No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).
To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:
Choke me, Spider-Man!
It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.
Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.
The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.
This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.
Crush on a superhero?
Pathetic.
He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?
Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.
Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.
Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.
The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.
“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.
Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?
Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.
“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.
His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.
“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.
“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.
You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.
He smelled so good.
“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.
He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.
“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.
He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.
Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.
Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.
You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.
“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.
“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.
His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.
He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”
He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.
He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.
His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.
He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.
You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.
You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.
“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.
Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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hintsofhoney · 2 months
Text
Mine
Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader
Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.
Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo
Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST
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“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 
Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.
“I don’t need –”
“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”
Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.
Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 
His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 
She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.
“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.
“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”
“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.
He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.
“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”
Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.
The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 
“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.
Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”
Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 
“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.
“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.
“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.
“Dean. And this is Y/N.”
She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 
“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 
Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 
“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”
Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”
She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.
Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”
Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”
And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”
“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.
“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 
Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.
Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.
“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.
“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 
He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —
“Making you want to what?” she asks.
Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 
“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.
“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”
“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.
“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.
“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.
“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.
Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 
“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”
Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 
“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —
“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.
Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.
“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 
He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 
Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.
“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.
“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”
She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”
Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”
Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”
“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”
“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”
“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 
“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”
Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”
She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.
She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”
Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”
“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”
“Y/N, I –”
She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 
“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”
Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”
Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.
“True… mates,” Dean breathes.
“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”
“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”
“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”
“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 
“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 
He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.
“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”
She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.
“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 
“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”
“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”
Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 
“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”
She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”
Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.
“Yeah?”
“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”
“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”
She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 
And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.
“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 
Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 
“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 
A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 
He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.
“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 
Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”
A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 
Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 
“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 
She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 
With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.
“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 
“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.
She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”
She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”
“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”
He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.
The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.
“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”
She moans at his words.
“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”
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dovveri · 4 months
Text
ordinarily
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synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend
warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate
w/c: 7.8k
a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“ms. l/n?”
“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.
“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”
she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”
she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.
she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”
“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.
“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”
she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”
“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.
"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"
you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.
"how long has this been going on?"
"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"
"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"
"no."
"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"
"not really, no."
"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"
"u-um... yes."
"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"
ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.
"u-um yes i think so."
"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.
"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"
"for lack of better words yes."
"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."
"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.
"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"
"i- um- i-"
"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."
you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"
sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."
you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."
sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"
"i- um- yes... to all of those."
"have you ever orgasmed before?"
"i- yes."
she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"
you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.
"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.
sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."
ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"
"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."
ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."
sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"
ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"
"it's a yes or no question."
"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"
"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.
"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"
"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."
ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.
sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.
"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"
"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."
"but you just said-"
"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."
you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."
she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"
you blush, shaking your head.
"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"
"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."
"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.
"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."
"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"
you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."
"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."
"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.
"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.
"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."
sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"
"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"
"and you're able to make yourself come?"
"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."
"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"
you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.
"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."
"how would i unlearn that?"
"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."
you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-
she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.
she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."
"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.
sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.
you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.
you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.
"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"
you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.
one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.
she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"
you nod, "a little."
she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."
it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.
when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.
“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.
you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”
sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.
but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.
“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”
sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”
you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“
“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.
the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.
"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"
you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.
she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.
“alright?”
“mhm just- just do it.”
“do what sweetie?”
“just- you know-“
“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.
“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“
she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.
you’re breathless at the feeling.
“painful at all?”
“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”
you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”
you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.
“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”
you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.
you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.
“good?”
“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“
she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.
“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.
“y-yeah.”
now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.
you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.
"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"
so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.
but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.
you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.
"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.
you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.
once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.
you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.
"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."
"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.
"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"
the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.
"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.
if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.
"y/n?"
your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.
you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.
"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.
"just happy to see you again."
her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.
"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"
"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."
"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"
"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."
sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"
"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"
"hmm? what is it?"
"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."
sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"
"i- um- sorry what?"
"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."
"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.
sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.
"something wrong sana?"
"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"
"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."
"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.
your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."
sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."
"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.
"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"
"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.
"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"
you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.
sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.
"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.
"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.
sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.
"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.
"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.
"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.
sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.
"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"
she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.
you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.
but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.
you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.
her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.
"oh shit-"
sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.
when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.
"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.
you whine, "n-no- you can move."
she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.
"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.
you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.
you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.
"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"
"hmm? good?"
"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"
"do you mind if i..."
you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"
you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.
sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"
"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"
so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.
sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.
eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.
sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."
you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.
she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.
"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.
you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.
"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."
you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.
"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"
you shake your head, coming to a stand.
"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."
you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.
you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
this continues between the two of you for a few months.
you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.
your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.
you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.
"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.
"just think you're nice to look at."
she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."
you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."
she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."
you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."
sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.
"what's up?"
"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"
"i told you i haven't."
she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"
you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."
"then you should try having sex again."
you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"
sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."
"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"
sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."
"good. i was actually thinking..."
"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.
"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."
"mhm."
"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.
"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.
"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.
sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."
your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her
"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."
you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.
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