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#i do try to do this for fics i feel shy about but sometimes i forgor
harrysfolklore · 18 hours
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casual - ln4
summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k
folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.
It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.
At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.
The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.
"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.
"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.
The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.
When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.
Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.
"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.
The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.
Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."
You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."
An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.
"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."
"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."
"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."
You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"
"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"
And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.
You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.
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You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.
As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.
You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.
"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.
He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.
"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"
"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.
Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.
"I miss you," he said simply.
You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.
"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.
"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.
"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."
Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.
"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"
You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"
Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.
When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.
"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.
"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."
Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.
Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.
"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."
You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."
"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."
You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."
"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."
"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."
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It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.
"Room 507. Now. Please?"
You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:
"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"
His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”
You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."
"So you're coming?"
You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."
"There's my girl"
You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.
The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.
"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.
"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"
Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."
"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"
"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."
"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."
You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."
As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.
One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.
Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.
Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.
"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.
"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"
"That I needed ice. For thinking."
"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"
"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.
"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"
As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."
"Who says I can't do both?"
Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.
He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.
You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.
As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.
The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.
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After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.
The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.
It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 
And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.
You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.
"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"
You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."
"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"
You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."
Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."
You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.
Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."
"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."
"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."
"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.
"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."
"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."
"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.
"Don't worry, I can handle myself."
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Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.
He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.
His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.
"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.
“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."
“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"
"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.
"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."
"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.
"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."
Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."
You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"
Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."
You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”
As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.
"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"
He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.
"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"
Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."
You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.
"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."
You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.
"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."
You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"
"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"
You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.
You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."
You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.
"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."
You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.
But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.
In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.
"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.
"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.
"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"
You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."
You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."
You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."
Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."
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The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.
Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.
You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.
As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.
"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.
"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."
For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.
Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.
The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.
"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.
You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."
"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."
"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"
"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"
"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."
"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."
The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.
"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."
Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.
"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.
"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"
Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.
"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.
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A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.
You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.
You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.
As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.
This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.
As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.
You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.
"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.
You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.
"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.
"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."
Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.
The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.
The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."
You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.
"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."
Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.
"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."
"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"
You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.
As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.
And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.
"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"
You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?
Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.
"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.
Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."
You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.
"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.
Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.
When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.
"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."
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The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.
It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.
As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.
So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.
Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.
Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.
As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.
"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.
You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.
"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.
You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.
Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.
As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.
For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.
Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.
"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"
You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.
Downstairs, the conversation continues.
"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."
Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."
"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"
"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."
"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"
"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."
"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."
They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.
"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."
You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."
"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."
"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.
"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."
"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.
"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.
Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.
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After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.
"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"
"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."
"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."
"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."
You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"
"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."
Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"
He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."
You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.
You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.
You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.
But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?
But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.
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The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.
Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.
As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.
"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.
They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.
Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"
You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"
As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.
He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.
"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"
You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?
Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."
But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."
You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."
You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."
As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.
You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.
You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."
He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."
"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."
"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."
You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.
"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."
"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.
"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.
As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.
With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.
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The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.
The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.
The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.
To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.
You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.
It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.
"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"
You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.
"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.
Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"
You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."
"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.
"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"
"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."
"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."
Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"
"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."
"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."
"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."
"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."
There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.
"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."
"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."
"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."
Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."
You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."
"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"
"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."
You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."
Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.
You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.
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The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.
When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.
Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.
As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.
But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.
In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.
As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?
Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.
Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.
"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."
Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"
Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"
For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.
Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.
"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.
Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."
"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."
Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"
"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."
"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.
"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."
With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.
When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.
You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?
As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.
"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."
Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"
Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."
You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.
As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.
Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."
Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.
"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”
"Lando, I-"
"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."
Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.
"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."
He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."
You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"
Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"
You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.
"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."
Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."
The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.
It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.
You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.
When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.
"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.
"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."
Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.
"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.
"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."
You nod, encouraging him to continue.
"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."
The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.
"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.
As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.
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Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.
You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.
Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.
"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.
You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.
The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.
"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.
"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."
"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."
You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."
You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.
"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."
Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.
"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."
"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.
"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.
Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"
He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.
As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.
"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."
As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.
You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.
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megamindsecretlair · 3 days
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WIP Tuesday
Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!
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I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.
Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.
Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):
Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir
Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!
Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...
Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...
I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.
In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.
Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.
no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone
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LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW
One Shot ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader
AN: This is a comfort fic! Danny is not the cheater! This fic changed a lot from when I started writing it to when it ended, so I hope you enjoy wherever my mind went while I wrote this…
Word Count: + 10.6k
Content Warnings: Heartbreak, crying, cheating, insecurity, nudity, deprecating thoughts, intense sadness, self-isolation, boner, mentions of sexual situations, lots of skin touching including breasts (but in a non-sexual way), love confessions, mentions of sex, considerate Danny.
“You alright?” Danny asked, pausing the movement of his fingers and ripping his intense attention from the melodic chords he had been working on, letting his acoustic guitar falter in his hands.
You looked up from your phone, “What? Oh, yeah, fine.”
You weren’t really fine. It was your boyfriend, Otis’s birthday, and you hadn’t been able to get a hold of him all day. You swiped through your text chain, seeing that your message at 7am wishing him a happy birthday was followed by an embarrassing amount of messages almost once an hour asking what he was doing, how he was doing, and if he was okay.
You had grown unbelievably restless, your anxiety bordering between genuine concern for his well being, and fear that he was shutting you out for some reason.
Though, this wasn’t completely unusual for Otis. He had always been distant, emotionally elusive in a way that left you second guessing your every move. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a word, shutting down for reasons you could never quite figure out. You attributed it to the way he must’ve been raised, but often, and without wanting, he would go into a mood. You had tried to understand, tried to make excuses for it. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you were overreacting.
It was terribly confusing, but you’d grown used to it, trying your hardest to take note of anything that may be a consistent trigger in his moods.
Danny, who was by far your closest friend, did not approve of his behaviour at all. In fact, he didn’t approve of Otis full stop. You had grown up together, graduated together, and were now splitting the rent of some small, shitty apartment in Nashville together, and it was hard for you to conceal the faults in your relationship when Danny seemed to always be there.
“You sure? You’ve been staring at that phone all afternoon,” he argued pointedly.
You huffed and ran a hand down the side of your face, “It’s just Otis…it’s his birthday but he hasn’t texted me back all day.” You paused, and Danny set his guitar down, its neck leaning against the arm of the couch you were both seated on. “I’m getting kinda worried,” you added.
Danny’s jaw tightened at the mention of Otis, a familiar tension brewing in his stance. You knew what he thought of your boyfriend, he had never been shy about it. As your best friend since childhood, Danny had always been protective of you, and he couldn’t stand how Otis treated you. To Danny, Otis was an undeserving ghost, always there, but never really present.
But it wasn’t as if Otis treated you poorly. No, you wouldn’t be dating him if he was. He just was a bit flaky sometimes- physically and emotionally.
Danny’s brows furrowed, “That is weird. Maybe he’s just busy with friends or something?” he suggested.
You shook your head, “No, he told me he was celebrating with them on the weekend. Told me he would see me today too,” you said anxiously, biting at the corners of your nails.
“Stop that,” Danny warned, pulling your hands away from your mouth.
It was a habit you seemed to have only picked up only recently, and Danny was always quick to stop it as soon as he saw you begin to nibble at the uneven edges of the nail.
“You’re right, ‘s a bit worrying. I would be pretty worried as well. Did he go out last night?” Danny asked.
“No.” You were beginning to feel more and more nervous, anxiety flooding through your body as you wondered what was going on.
You suddenly stood, “I think I’m gonna go over to his place. Maybe he’s just been sleeping all day.”
Danny glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw that it was 5pm. He refrained from telling you he highly doubted it, not wanting to worry you any further.
“Shit,” you cursed as you looked out the window and saw that it was absolutely pouring with rain. You hurried to your bedroom to find a raincoat.
“Let me drive you,” Danny suggested, his voice now coming from his own room as he grabbed himself a sweater. You both emerged from your rooms and met in the hallway, and before you could protest he added, “Please. I don’t feel good knowing you’re driving in this weather.”
You scoffed, “Underestimating my driving skills, Wagner?” You carried the gifts you had bought Otis, including the bouquet of flowers into the living room with you and placed them on the table next to your handbag.
“Maybe,” Danny teased and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.
It took less than five minutes to gather your things. The bouquet of flowers, a few small wrapped gifts, and your handbag. Once you had hastily gotten your things in order, Danny grabbed his car keys off the table and opened the front door for you.
“Need me to hold anything?” he asked, watching in amusement as you fumbled with the flowers, presents, your bag and your phone.
You laughed, “Yes please.”
He took the flowers and a few gifts from your arms and you both descended the long, winding stairs wordlessly until you were in the shared car park.
“I’m sure it’s all fine,” Danny assured he held the door open for you to get into the car.
“Yeah me too. Just really wanna see him, you know?” You immediately regretted saying it once the words left your mouth.
You usually tried to keep the Otis conversation minimal with Danny, knowing that he didn’t really like him. Danny hummed anyway, despite his disagreement, and started the car before reversing out of the garage. He handed you your favourite Beatles CD for you to put into the stereo while he drove, and you felt overwhelmingly appreciative of his attentiveness.
You wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, and that Otis just hadn't had a chance to look at his phone yet. But with each mile closer to Otis’s apartment, the pit in your stomach grew heavier, and the knot in your chest tighter. Every time you checked your phone, there was no new message. No missed calls. Nothing.
Throughout the drive, it was clear to you that Danny was trying his hardest to keep you from overthinking. You felt like he didn’t stop talking for the majority of the ride, telling you about the latest disagreement between Josh and Jake and how he, like usual, had to save the day with his mediation skills. He managed to make you laugh too, always knowing just what you needed when you weren’t feeling your absolute best.
You had to direct Danny the way there, which was quite difficult thanks to the bucketing rain that restricted visibility of anything twenty metres in front of you. 
Eventually you made it to his apartment, and Danny pulled over on the side of the road to drop you off, seeing as there was no carpark for him to stop in.
“Alright, be safe please. Text if you need anything,” Danny recited, the words he told you each time you parted. It had been that way since you could remember.
“I will! Thanks for the lift!”
Balancing your things in your arms, you quickly jumped out of the car to not hold up and more traffic.
Danny drove off when one of the impatient cars behind him gave him a beep for taking so long. You rushed up to Otis’s apartment building front door, bullets of rain almost soaking you completely as you covered the short distance.
Your shoes splashed heavily on the street which had become one big puddle. You sighed when you finally reached the building, protected from the rain by the large overhang that wrapped around the large building.
As you made your way into the apartment and climbed the levels to his, you glanced at your phone once more to check if he had messaged you, and frowned when there was nothing. A little puffed, you finally reached his unit. Before you knocked, you peeked a glance at the crack at the bottom of the door where a light was being through. So he was home.
You bit back a shiver as you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. You always liked the tune Otis’s doorbell made. It was quite unconventional, not the normal tune they made and not a jarring ring either, but a nice melody all the same.
You hugged yourself tightly in the cold as you awaited a response, and when you didn’t get one, you rang the doorbell again. Finally, the front door swung open, and you were met with Otis, his slim figure on full display as only a pair of white and blue striped boxers hung low on his hips.
You smiled brightly, despite the fact that he had neglected speaking to you all day. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed.
He shot you a quick, tight smile, before his face turned serious, eyes scanning the scene behind you. “Thank you Baby, but uh… what are you doing here?” he asked.
You faltered, “What do you mean?”
He looked at you as if you had done something ridiculous, “Well we didn’t plan anything. I hadn’t exactly said you could come over.”
You took a step back into the hallway, “I just thought that…”
You were mortified. But you were also incredibly upset. It was his birthday, but you had still felt some kind of obligation that he at least see you on the special day. He was your boyfriend after all.
“I got worried. You weren’t responding,” you explained, feeling a deep set frown fall to your face.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and you suddenly became very aware of his positioning. He was standing in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame and letting the door hang almost closed behind him while he stepped marginally closer in each moment and effectively backed you further away from the entrance.
“Yeah well, I just got caught up in something.”
Just as you were about to ask what, a slender hand, adorning deep red acrylic nails raked across his bare abdomen.
“Baby, what’s taking you so long?” a sultry voice asked, and you could see longer dark hair peeking behind his body.
Unable to beleive your eyes, your mouth parted in silent shock, face dropping in realisation, and you peered over his shoulder to see the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in only her underwear behind him.
Blinking, you watched as his face morphed into course red embarrassment, and his eyes widened in fear.
“Oh,” you stated.
“No Baby, it’s not what it-” he started, moving towards you to take your arm.
“Stop it. Don’t,” you shook his hands off you, “Don’t touch me.”
Tears instantly welled in your eyes and the lump in your throat felt like it was going to choke you.
“Wha- why?” you managed to choke out. He looked at you sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, the woman behind him appeared at his side.
If you thought her face was gorgeous, her body was bound to make you pass out. Her breasts were full and round, and her slim, toned waist was a beautiful compliment. Her hips widened at just the right spot, and were void of dips or stretch marks, and it suddenly became glaringly obvious to you where everything had gone wrong.
She gave you a harsh look up and down, assessing your clothing and you could only assume your body. Your arms crossed over your front in insecurity, now regretting the old coat, faded jeans and casual shoes you had thrown on in your state of worry and anticipation.
You hiccuped a sob back when she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Otis, to his credit, looked wildly uncomfortable by her actions and tried to shrug her off, looking at you pleadingly.
You couldn’t see any more. You couldn’t stand there for another second longer or you were going to explode.
You wished you were more angry. You should have been furious, yelling at him and ripping your keys out to key his car. But instead, you felt a deep pit of sadness in your belly. The type of pit that drags everything down with it. The type of pit that consumes all it can from its host just to continue its relentless torment.
You needed to get the fuck out of there.
Breathing turned shakey, you turned and walked so quickly down the hallway that you thought you were going to pull a hamstring.
Otis called your name from behind you, and you thanked the Gods that he was too naked to follow you. You descended the stairs in a daze, hot tears running down your cheeks, but you were too focused on getting out that you knew you needed to hold them back.
Once you made it to the building's exit, you realised that you were still cradling the birthday presents you had bought him. In an act of anger, you stormed out of the complex and threw them in a heap onto the grass beside the door, letting all the money you had wasted on him get destroyed under the unforgiving downpour of rain.
Then you realised you were also in the rain. And you were getting soaked. You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up Danny’s contact to call him.
Restricted sobs began to shake your body, and you were having an incredibly hard time maintaining your composure, if you could even call it that anymore.
The phone only rang twice before Danny’s voice spoke through the speakers.
“Hey, what’s up,” he answered casually. You could hear his car keys hitting the little key bowl you had by the front door, indicating he had quite literally just gotten home, making you feel even worse about asking him to come and pick you up.
He called your name in question when you didn’t respond.
“Did you- did you just get home?” you asked, trying feebly to conceal the emotion in your voice, but the sobs and sharp inhales did close to nothing in helping.
“Fuck, are you okay? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, and you could hear the keys jingle again, accompanied by the front door slamming shut.
“I’m,” you tried to say through broken sobs, “I’m okay. I just need- can you come and pick me up? Ple- please?”
“I’m already on my way.” True to his word, you could hear the engine vibrating in the background of the call. “Please tell me what happened. Are you safe?” he asked frantically.
You nodded, before realising that he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m- I’m okay. Just cold,” you began scanning the area, looking for a spot you could stand that was concealed from the rain.
There was no way you were going back inside the complex building, and you quickly realised that your best bet was a tree nearby. You hastily made your way over, sneakers getting ruined in the dirt, each step accompanied by a squelch. The rain wasn’t as relentless under the cover in the tree, but thick drops still fell and coated your skin, hair and clothes. You were shivering violently now, wondering why on earth you hadn’t brought an umbrella.
"Where are you?" Danny's voice was soft but laced with concern.
"Same place you dropped me off," you muttered, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. It wasn't hard to guess that Danny probably knew something had gone wrong with Otis. But you could bet he'd never imagine the full extent of it.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could sense Danny was biting his tongue, holding back from asking the questions swirling in his mind. He knew better than to press you when you were like this, though. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good. That much was obvious.
"Okay, honey, I’m nearly there. Can you try taking some deep breaths while you wait for me, please?" His voice was steady, trying to ground you through the phone. It was only then that you became aware of the sound of your own ragged, gasping sobs.
"Ye-yes... okay." You forced yourself to breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, but each inhale felt heavy, the weight of your chest pressing down harder with every beat of your racing heart. You tried to follow Danny's request, but every time your pulse began to slow, your mind betrayed you. You couldn't stop the image from flashing in your head, those sharp red acrylic nails raking across his chest.
Your stomach churned, nausea rising as you cursed your vivid imagination. What would those hands look like wrapped around his neck, or worse, holding his hand? What would those nails look like tracing against his skin, trailing down his back in the heat of the moment as she whispered his name in his ear? The thought made your blood run cold, and tears welled up in your eyes once again.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to vanish. But they clung to you, persistent and cruel, reminding you of everything you were afraid to face. It wasn’t just the physical imagery, either. It was the emotional betrayal of the way his eyes might soften when he looked at her, the way he might laugh at her jokes. She probably made him feel something you couldn’t. And he had probably been slipping away for quite some time.
A broken sob escaped your lips, and you clenched your fists at your sides, wishing you could stop thinking about it, wishing you could stop hurting. You knew Danny was close, but the minutes felt like hours. You hated how powerless you felt, sitting there, cold and waiting, suffocated by your own thoughts.
“It’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay it’ll be okay. I’m nearly there, just hang on a little longer for me, okay?” Danny repeated, hearing your breathing pick up again.
You crouched on the dirt to hug some warmth into you, humming in response to his question. “Danny, can you- can you put the heat on in the car… please. I’m really cold,” you asked and you immediately heard him shuffle with the knobs on the dashboard.
“Are you- are you in the rain?” he asked with urgency.
“I was… I’m standing under a tree now.”
He sighed, “Okay I’m rounding the corner now, can you see me?” he asked and you looked up at the road. True to his word, you could see his black car nearing you as it sped down the road.
“Yes.” You got up and quickly walked to the edge of the street. The rain soaked you again, and you abandoned even attempting to cover your head from its assault.
He pulled up to you at record breaking speed, and breaked harshly beside you on the road. You swung the door open and practically fell into the passenger seat, being immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car.
You slammed the door shut, and muttered a small ‘sorry’ through your shudders as you did up your seat belt.
Being a busy street, Danny had to take off as soon as you were buckled up, and you looked down at the water dripping off your shoes into the car.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he commented, as you tried to take off your top jacket to avoid completely soaking his seats. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologised, trying to keep your back from the seat to not soak the interior of his car. He had already given you a lift to and from Otis’s house, and the least you could do was not ruin his car in the process. You were trying your hardest to withhold the sobs, but hot tears mixed with the wetness of your face as the lump in your throat began to burn.
“Honey…” Danny comforted when he saw your emotional state. He found the closest quiet street and pulled over on the side of the road. 
As soon as the handbrake was on and the car was in neutral, Danny turned to you, clipping off his seatbelt to reach you better. He reached to unclip your seatbelt too, and without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms. 
Though it had been steadily trickling since you left Otis’s house, the dam completely broke when you felt the familiar and comforting embrace of Danny. He rubbed soothing strokes up and down your soaked back with a soft flat palm, his hand shuddering against each shaky breath you took. 
“Are you hurt? I need to know you’re okay, physically,” he asked, still keeping you tight in his arms. 
“I’m not hurt. I’m okay,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt behind his back. 
“Shhh,” he cooed as your sobs continued, “What’s going on? What happened?”
You pulled away from him, slipping back into your seat and wiping furiously at your red and wet eyes. “There was,” you shuddered, “There was a woman,” you explained, eyes now trained on the window wipers that feebly tried to push away the waves of water that fell from the sky, “They were both naked.”
“What?” The volume of his voice was jarring in the otherwise silence of the car. You dared not speak, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Danny had warned you that Otis wasn’t a good person, but you had ignored him, and you were now putting the weighted burden of your mistake on his shoulders. 
Danny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and you kept your eyes before you, silent tears now running down your cheeks. 
“She’s really pretty,” you added, and Danny eyed you carefully. He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to see through your skin and into your brain to read every thought that was running through your mind. When he couldn't find anything other than self-loathing and depreciation, he ran a hand through his hair. 
“I- fuck I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” 
You shook in the cold as you stared out the window, unspeaking. When he realised you weren’t going to respond, he turned in his seat again and popped the car back into gear before he continued the drive home. He was watching your body shake violently from the cold and knew that as much as he wanted to hold you until you were better, you needed to get out of your wet clothes and into something warm and dry.
“Don't do that,” Danny said, pulling your thumb away from your mouth as you attacked the skin around it. 
“‘M sorry,” you muttered with a sniffle, pulling your hands to your lap and fiddling with your fingers instead. 
“Don’t apologise.”
You were quiet for the rest of the ride. You replayed the moment over and over in your mind, looking back on how he had blatantly told you that he didn't want you there, that you weren’t invited. All because there was another woman. Had she always been there? Was she just a one night stand or had he been cheating on you for longer?
Danny bit his cheek each time he heard you sniffle, every small sound cutting through him like a knife. He glanced over at you, watching as you hastily wiped your eyes, your fingers trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. The sight of you in pain made his chest ache, and every time your hand darted up to your face, he wished he could reach out, pull you close, and wipe your tears away for you. But he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to smother you when you were clearly teetering on the edge.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the darkening streets, the quiet hum of the car engine doing nothing to soothe the thick tension in the air. You sat next to him, staring out the window, barely moving, but he could see the steady stream of tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. They glistened in the streetlights as you passed them, and he wanted to say something, anything, but he knew no words could fix what you were feeling.
The ride home felt agonisingly long, each second dragging on as Danny tried to focus on the road and not the heart-wrenching sight of you unravelling beside him. He kept biting his cheek, hard enough to taste blood now, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you every few seconds, praying you’d somehow find a little bit of peace before they made it home.
When Danny finally rolled into the parking spot, the familiarity of your apartment complex looming ahead causerd the tears that had slowed for a brief moment on the drive started to pour again, the sight of home making everything worse. The thought of being so close to your bed, to the space where you could collapse and let yourself fully break was overwhelming.
Your breath hitched, and you hugged your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken over your body. The cold had seeped into your bones, making you shake uncontrollably, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the freezing rain that had soaked through your clothes or the sadness that seemed to settle deep in your chest.
Danny killed the engine and turned to you, eyes soft and full of worry. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” His voice was gentle, but the concern was clear. He didn’t wait for you to respond, opening his door quickly and jogging around to your side, pulling open the passenger door.
“Come on, I’ve got you,” he murmured, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You hesitated for just a second, but the exhaustion in your body won out, and you took his hand, letting him guide you. As you stepped out, your legs wobbled beneath you, and without a second thought, Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.
You leaned against him, your sobs becoming louder now that you were out of the confined space of the car. His warmth was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of emotion that had hit you. As he helped you up the steps to the apartment, you clung to his sweater, your cold fingers digging into the fabric as if you could hold onto him and stop yourself from spiralling.
Each step felt heavy, the weight of your sadness pressing down on you like a physical force, and you stumbled a little as you climbed. Danny tightened his grip on you, steadying you with every step, whispering quiet reassurances even though you weren’t sure you could hear them over the sound of your own sobbing.
You weren’t crying for any reason now, yet it felt like your emotional capacity was a heavy ball that had been pushed off a hill. Once it started rolling, you couldn't stop. 
Once inside, the warmth of the apartment hit you, but it did nothing to thaw the ice in your bones. You barely registered Danny closing the door behind you, his arm still around your shoulders as he led you deeper into the space. Despite his support, your mind had already begun its familiar descent into destructive thoughts. If Otis didn’t want you, then who would? The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, and the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.
Without a word, you pulled away from Danny, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately but ignoring it as you left him standing in the middle of the living room alone. You made a beeline for your bedroom, your body moving on autopilot. The door clicked shut behind you, and even though there wasn’t a lock, you knew Danny wouldn’t come in. He respected your space, your boundaries, but that knowledge only made the ache in your chest deepen. The loneliness pressed in harder, suffocating.
Inside the sanctuary of your room, you didn’t care that you were drenched to the bone, your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably. The cold had long since numbed your skin, and now it was creeping into your muscles, making your limbs ache with a dull, persistent throb. You shivered violently, your teeth chattering so hard they ached, but it was a distant sensation compared to the emotional storm raging inside you.
You toed off your soaked shoes, not even bothering to untie them properly. Normally, the thought of tracking dirt or water onto your bed would have horrified you as your bed was your sacred space, always spotless, always prepared for sleep in clean pyjamas after a long shower. But tonight, none of that mattered. Your mind was too far gone, too consumed by the thoughts that swirled around relentlessly.
You crawled onto the bed without a second thought, the damp sheets immediately sticking to your wet clothes. The fabric clung to your skin, cold and uncomfortable, but it didn’t register. All you could think about was curling into the tightest ball possible, as if making yourself small enough would somehow make the pain disappear.
The sobs wracked your body violently, each one more painful than the last. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sound, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears from soaking the fabric. Your whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the anguish that had taken over.
And still, despite the physical discomfort, despite the relentless sobbing, your mind couldn’t stop fixating on Otis. You kept replaying every word he’d said, every look, every action that made you feel like you weren’t enough. You kept thinking about how he didn’t want you, how he didn’t choose you. That gut wrenching feeling of rejection echoed through you like a broken record, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, it lingered.
But it wasn't the loss of Otis that hurt you so much as the feeling of being left behind for someone better. Your self esteem had plummeted, all feelings of security and trust torn apart with no remorse. 
Minutes passed, maybe longer, until you were dimly aware of the soft knock on your door, Danny’s voice coming through gently.
"Hey… I'm just gonna leave some dry clothes outside the door, okay?" he said, his voice calm but clearly worried. You didn’t respond, too lost in the flood of emotions, but you heard him shuffle around outside before retreating.
A little while later, Danny returned, seeing the pile of clothes left outside untouched. He called your name gently with a brush of his knuckles against the wood, “Can I come in?” he asked cautiously. 
“No,” you called out, muffled in the pillows your face was buried in. 
He hesitated in the silence. “I don’t- I think you need to get out of your wet clothes,” he commented, voice still quiet behind the door. “You might get sick.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I’ll do what I want,” you snapped. 
You had no idea where that outburst had come from. You immediately felt guilty as you imagined how Danny would have recoiled at your words and tone of voice. It was glaringly obvious to both you and Danny that you were only acting hostile as a way to protect yourself. Protect the fragile feeling of trust you had so carefully maintained throughout your life.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that… you can come in,” you said so quietly, that Danny may not have even heard you. 
Though with heavy caution, Danny reached down to twist the handle. He knew you didn't mean what you were saying. You were hurt, and had been betrayed in arguably the worst way someone could be. He knew you just needed someone to be in your corner. 
You didn't dare look behind you at Danny as he entered your room, and instead kept your head buried in your pillows. 
“Hey,” he whispered, and you felt the edge of your bed dip as he sat down. He reached out hesitantly, and put his warm palm on your bare arm. He flinched the feeling of your skin, chilled from your still soaked clothes. “Shit, you’re freezing,” he commented. 
With your back still turned, you stared blankly into the plush pillows in front of you, your eyes fixated on the growing wet stain spreading across the fabric. You couldn’t distinguish if it was from your soaked hair or the relentless flow of tears that you had cried. Your pillowcase, usually soft and comforting, now felt cold and uninviting, just another reminder of the misery that clung to you like the dampness in your clothes.
Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, each one laboured as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to rise again. The wet patch in front of you seemed to expand with every tear, but you couldn’t muster the energy to wipe your face or even shift positions. 
Everything felt heavy. Your body, your heart, your thoughts. It was as though the weight of everything Otis had said, everything you felt, was sinking into that single spot on the pillow, and no matter how long you stared, it wouldn’t disappear.
“Hey,” he carefully pulled you away from your thoughts. Sniffling, you rolled over to face him, and his heart ached at the sight of you. Eyes and lips swollen, red and raw from your crying, and incessant rubbing. 
“Will you please change into something warmer?” he asked, eyes soft and genuine as he stared at you, his thumb stroking against the cold skin of your arm, “I can help you if you need,” he added. You sighed, hard and long before pushing yourself up from your bed into a sitting position. 
“Fuckkk,” you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands as you groaned, “This is such a mess.”
You looked back up again, assessing the damage you had done to your bed, which carried the consequences of you collapsing in it while still wet. Danny got up quickly, taking the clothes he had left for you outside of your bedroom door and bringing them to you at the bed. 
“I think a warm shower would do you good,” he suggested, “It’ll help you warm up quicker.” The thought of the warm water pouring over your tired and cold muscles seemed like heaven, but now that he was here, you didn't want Danny to leave. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, moving to get up from your bed. Danny rushed out of your bedroom and searched through your shared hallway cupboard for the softest towel he could find. 
He watched as you slowly emerged from your bedroom, posture slumped and insecure, arms wrapped securely around your body. Your jeans and top clung to your body tightly from the slick, and your hair left a wet residue on your neck. 
“I can put the towel in the dryer for you while you shower. That way when you get out it’ll be nice and warm,” he suggested. His attention to detail made you smile. 
Though his offer was kind, you knew what you wanted more than a warm towel. The thought that came into your mind was absurd, and could very possibly make Danny uncomfortable by crossing the boundaries of your friendship that you had both treaded in all those years. But you didn’t want- you couldn’t be left alone, or you feared you would curl up onto the cold tile floors and cry until you died. 
“What's up?” he asked, hand raising to the side of your face to thumb away the remaining tears left on your cheeks. You glanced up at him shyly, trying to reign the confidence to ask him the question.
He frowned at the look of conflict on your face as you debated with yourself, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that,” he offered with a kind smile. That same smile that had dried your tears too many times over the years, “‘S only me.”
You took a deep breath, “I just… I don’t know how to say this. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want- I’m scared of being left alone again,” you admitted though still skirting around the truth of your sudden discomfort. 
“I won't ever leave you alone, you know that. I’m always here for you,” he comforted, stroking your wet hair away from your face in a way that felt so intimate, so domestic, that you nearly began to cry again. 
“Will- um, will you come with me?” you added in a mumble, cheeks heating at your question. 
He cocked his head in confusion, “Come with you where?” 
You swallowed thickly in embarrassment, physically unable to say the words. You were ready to dismiss it, and tell him it didn't matter when realisation struck his face. 
“You mean… come with you to shower?” he asked, surprise reigning his features at your admittance. 
You were a fool. You had just ruined the relationship you had with your boyfriend, and you were already on track to do the same with your best friend.
“I- I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I suggested that, seriously, just forget it, I-”
“No, no, stop. I… I’m happy to… if uh, if that’s what you need,” Danny answered, his heart thumping in his chest at your suggestion. This was a boundary that neither of you had ever crossed. Sure you had seen each other close to nakedness before, but only by pure accident or in the form of skimpy swimwear. 
Both of you knew that doing this was different. Even suggesting it had changed something between the two of you, and it had brought to life the truth that you had both been hiding beneath platonic smiles for your whole lives.
You couldn't look at him, and instead looked at the towel he held tightly in his hands, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. 
Jaw tight and eyes cautious, he nodded silently. “You go and get started, and I’ll uh, join you in a minute, okay?” he suggested and you tucked a tuft of hair behind your ear. 
“Okay,” you whispered. As you turned to walk away, nerves swelling in your stomach at your decision, Danny cleared his throat again. 
"Are you... do you want me to keep my... um, boxers on?" Danny’s voice was as gentle as ever, like slow dripping honey that coated each word with the tenderness you had come to depend on. It was just Danny, always so considerate, always thinking of how to make you feel comfortable, especially in moments as vulnerable as this.
The question, though spoken with the utmost care, still startled you. Your heart skipped, and you felt a small flutter of uncertainty rise in your chest. You feared that whatever answer you gave might lead to discomfort, but there was a deep, aching need inside you to be close to him. Closer than you had ever been before. Something unspoken tugged at you, a silent yearning to connect with him in a way that transcended the physical.
"If you want. But I don't mind if you don't," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, as if afraid the wrong words might break the fragile atmosphere.
Before he could respond, you turned and made your way down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floor the only sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You gently swung the bathroom door shut, leaving it ajar just enough to let him know that he was welcome. You twisted the shower tap, letting the heavy stream of hot water fill the shower, the sound of it pounding against the tile, a soothing background hum that drowned out the noise in your mind.
Your clothes clung stubbornly to your body as you peeled them off, each article of fabric a reminder of the evening's cold and the emotions that had seeped into your bones. The chill in the air bit at your exposed skin, and a violent shiver racked your body, leaving you trembling as you stood naked in the dim bathroom. You barely spared a glance in the mirror, catching only a fleeting, distorted reflection of yourself, a body that tonight, felt uglier than it ever had. The blotchy redness from your sobs clashed with the paleness of your cold skin, and you looked away quickly, unable to face the image.
Stepping into the shower, you sighed deeply as the hot water cascaded over your head, the sensation washing away the lingering chill. It was a simple pleasure, the heat sinking into your scalp, down your neck, and through your entire body. You tipped your head back, allowing the water to flow over your face, burning just enough to be distracting, before it slid down your shoulders and over the curve of your breasts. For a brief, blissful moment, you forgot about Otis, the heartbreak, the insecurity, everything.
Danny's soft footsteps padding into the bathroom snapped you back to reality, and your heart gave a nervous flutter as you saw his silhouette through the thin shower curtain. You turned, yet could still feel his presence as he shuffled with his things by the countertop, your senses heightened by the silence in the room. As he approached, the shower curtain shifted slightly, letting in a sliver of cool air that made you shiver again, but this time not entirely from the cold.
Wordlessly, you stepped forward, making room for him under the stream of water, and you heard his deep, contented exhale as the warmth enveloped him. You felt a shy smile tug at your lips, though you didn’t dare turn around. The thought of exposing yourself fully to him was daunting, even though you had never felt safer with anyone else.
Reaching up, you grabbed the bottle of vanilla shampoo, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. But before you could open the bottle, you felt Danny’s warmth behind you, not close enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his steady, comforting force and hot, heavy breath by your ear. He reached over your shoulder, his hand brushing yours as he gently took the bottle from you. The touch was brief, but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.
"Let me," he offered, his breath tickling the skin beside your ear. The shampoo bottle clicked open, the scent of vanilla filling the air as Danny lathered up the shampoo by rubbing it between his large hands.
You stood still, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands moved to your head, slowly threading into your locks and pressing to your scalp. His fingers were strong but somehow gentle as ever, working the shampoo into your scalp in slow, deliberate motions, in a way that made your knees weak. You let out a whispered groan, the sound escaping before you could stop it as your body relaxed under his touch.
This was no longer just about getting clean; this was something else entirely. The both of you, stood there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and yet there was no awkwardness and no sense of pressure or expectation. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t entirely platonic either. It was something deeper, something built on years of quiet affection, of love that had been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as he continued to wash your hair. His fingers traced soothing patterns against your scalp, moving with such care that you felt your chest ache with emotion. This wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was love. Pure, unspoken, and unconditional.
He soon rinsed his hands under the water, and touched your shoulder gently as he pulled you back under the stream. He aided with washing the shampoo out of your hair with his hands, running through your scalp and squeezing at your hair as the soapy suds travelled down your hair and down to his feet. 
You had completely forgotten about Otis, you realised, as Danny reached up to grab the bottle of conditioner, doing the same as before but only raking the product through the ends of your hair. 
Your breathing was heavy, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry again, but not out of sadness this time. You turned around to face him, feeling no insecurity over the exposure of your bare body when his burning gaze remained on your face. 
“Danny…” you started, frowning at the overwhelming feeling of your new realisation. Your face told him everything he needed to know, eyebrows pinched in desperation, and tears brimming at your eyes. He had always felt a way for you that he couldn’t act upon, and only now did he see that you could finally feel it too. 
He reached up and cupped your cheek, “I know, sweet girl.” He nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek lovingly, and you leaned into his touch. When he let go, you dropped your head, hanging it low between your bodies, your eyes closed in exhaustion. 
Danny stepped forward slowly, his feet splashing against the pool of water at your feet, and he engulfed you in the embrace of his long arms. Your head fell into the spot between his arm and chest, and that same arm came up to cradle your head. You could feel his bare arm on your back, your breasts pressed against his chest and you flushed at the proximity. 
You desperately tried to hold him too, arms wrapped around his abdomen and folded up to hook your hands over his shoulders. You didn't notice the tears that flowed from your eyes, as they became one with the water that flowed between you both. 
“Danny,” you whispered. He nuzzled into your hair, a comforting gesture that made your heart race. 
“Hmm?” he replied softly, encouraging you to continue. The moment hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken feelings. 
The feeling was so overwhelming, that you realised you could no longer pretend to be just friends, as the desire to love him loudly completely consumed you. 
Finally, you spoke, your confession bursting forth like a long held secret, “I think I love you.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, a rush of emotion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. 
You felt his stomach tighten at your words, and he pulled back slightly to gaze down at you. You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes to see them pleading in wonder. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had admired the beauty of your soul in silence, waited in suppressed agony, fearing that revealing his feelings would push you away. Your company was always enough for him to keep his feelings hidden, as just being near you to hear your laughter, your mind and your soul, had been more than enough. 
But now, you were uttering the words he had dreamt of telling you for what felt like his whole life. 
“Always,” he whispered, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. He tucked your wet hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I always have.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his for confirmation. “What?” you managed to ask, your voice breaking. Instead of answering, Danny leaned down, closing the distance between you, and held his face close to yours. He lingered for a moment, as if giving you time to pull away, before he brought his lips to yours in a gentle caress.
His lips were soft and slow against yours, hesitant and testing at the new sensation. Neither of you could believe what was happening, and you marvelled at the intimacy of the moment, the tenderness. Never would you have thought this would be how you ended up, and now that it was happening, there was no going back. 
Danny's hands rested hesitantly beside you, ghosting your skin as he resisted the urge to touch you, as he was painfully aware of your state of undress and didn't want to cross any boundaries. You took them into your own hands, and pulled them to rest on the sides of your waist. He gripped the skin softly at the sensation. 
You mouths explored each other, and you reached your hands up to tangle in his hair as you revelled in the new feeling. It felt as if you had searched every corner of Danny, as your years of friendship had taught you things about him even his family didn't know, yet this was unexplored territory. 
Danny pulled away with a deep inhale, and he took in the sight of your flushed face, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. A small smile crept onto his face at his realisation of what had just happened. 
“You’re so beautiful, d’ you know that?” he whispered, hand gliding up and down the curve of your waist. You looked down shyly, at both the complement and your own understanding of what had just happened.
“You are too,” you mumbled quietly, a blush tinting your cheeks. You could no longer look at Danny without your heart exploding, and when he smiled a bit wider at your words, you turned back around, reaching for the body wash and fiddling with the cap. 
Danny was more hesitant to offer helping you clean your body than he was your hair, ever considerate of your boundaries. You had both taken huge steps in mere minutes, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel rushed. 
You of course knew this, and decided that your bold streak hadn’t ended yet. “Would you… help me with this one too?” you asked quietly, turning to look up at Danny through your lashes.
“Anything,” he answered with a nod, taking the bottle from your hands gently and pouring the soapy substance over his hands. You could tell he was still hesitant, the act of touching you was clearly daunting for him, and you tried your best to show him you were okay. You nodded at him to go ahead, and he gingerly reached his hands to your shoulders, massaging the produce over them, pulling your arms out horizontally so that he could lather it across them too. 
Avoiding the obvious, his hands dragged back up your arms and to your back. You turned for him, letting his strong fingers knead into your muscles, making you hum in approval, head dropping forward at the feeling. He tucked your hair over your right shoulder to move it out of his way. His hands travelled over the expanse of your back, fingers dipping into your dimples of venus, but not treading any further before he pulled them back up, running long stripes either side of your spine.
His hands travelled around your waist then, and you turned again for him as the warmth of his hands spread over your stomach, sides and ribs, hesitating just below your breasts. 
Your stomach flipped as you became aware now that his gaze was not holding its respectful attachment to your face, and was now all over your chest, trying to touch you anywhere but there. 
You bit your cheek, and slowly reached up to take his hand that was settled on your ribs into yours. His eyes flicked to yours as you dragged his hand up your body and rested it on your breast. 
“It’s okay,” you told him. To say that these moments were not entirely sexual anymore would be untrue. And you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t caught glimpses of his situation down below, despite your efforts to keep your gaze above his waist.
Feeling like he would pass out any moment, Danny tenderly ran his hands over your breasts, rounding at the swell and dipping in the valley as he lathered them in the soap. He wasn't hasty to move on, but he didn’t linger for too long, letting you know that he did not expect anything sexual from you. As he washed your upper half, you scrubbed at your bottom, running the soap in your hands over your legs and behind, to speed up the process. 
Danny pulled you back under the stream, and rejected your offer to wash him the same. 
“You’re exhausted, and I’m worried if you spend another minute in the steam you’ll pass out,” he said with a teasing smile, half joking. You frowned at his words. 
“I’m not exhausted, I can do it.”
“Honey…” he started, lifting your arm and showcasing your hands which were trembling without support.
You huffed at his consideration. “Okay, fine… if you’re sure.”
He smiled at you, his hand on your hip squeezing gently, “I am.” He dipped down and gave you a quick peck on the lips, the act startling you, as you had almost forgotten the events that just occurred between the two of you. As if you weren't just guiding his hand to your breasts. As if he weren’t standing before you in those moments, with an obviously painful erection.
You gave him one last smile before you pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. The cold slapped you in the face and you were quick to shut the curtain behind you to keep Danny warm. Picking up your towel and wrapping it around your body was a beautiful reprieve from the biting cold, and when you looked out of the fogged glass of the bathroom window, you could tell that the rain outside was just as relentless as it was before. 
You listened to foamy soap hit the floor as Danny washed through his own hair while you collected your hairbrush and other essentials, before you silently slipped out of the bathroom door, not bothering to close it all the way behind you. 
Your mood now soaring at heights unimaginable, you padded to your bedroom, a small smile on your face as you thought back on the intimacy of the moments you had just shared. When you stepped into your bedroom though, you were reminded of the mess that was your life. 
Your bed was soaked, sheets and pillows bore big wet patches and you were sure the witness had soaked onto your mattress too. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, before deciding what to do. You shuffled through your pyjama drawers and picked out some long plaid pants along with a white singlet and a hoodie. You changed quickly, not wanting the warmth of your body to succumb to the cold again, and once you were changed, you walked back out of your room and into the living room, where you set up camp on the couch. 
Meanwhile, Danny was running his hands through his wet locks, the water cascading down his face as he replayed those moments over and over again in his mind. He had waited for you for so long. Loved you in silence for so long. And it was all worth it. 
Once he left the shower he wrapped the last towel around his waist, squeezing the wetness out of his hair and leaving it otherwise to air dry. 
As he left the bathroom, he could hear you humming softly in the living room, and he passed his room to see you again. Danny watched in admiration at you, dressed comfortably while you typed and scrolled on your phone, cross legged on the couch, Your wet hair hung down your back, but your sweater protected you from the cold this time. 
He frowned when he saw the couch, set up in a way he could only assume was your attempt to sleep on it. 
The sound of his arrival got your attention, “Hey, I’m ordering Thai delivery,” you said, eyes still trained on your phone as you typed in your card details.
Danny smiled warmly at you, “Great, thanks…um, what’s all this?” he asked, hands gesturing to the makeshift bed you had set up on the couch. Although just seeing him completely naked, and having that naked body pressed against your own, you stifled at the sight of him with only a towel around his waist.
You cleared your throat and averted your gaze, “Oh, my bed is really wet from… you know, lying on it earlier.”
He shook his head, “No, you aren’t sleeping on the couch. I have a double, you can sleep with me.” He immediately blushed at the alternate innuendo his words held, “Not like sleep together, just you know, go to sleep,” he tripped over his words anxiously, making you force back a smile. 
“Are you sure? I’m fine to-” 
“Yes I’m sure. One hundred percent,” he assured quickly before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, we did just shower together.”
Now it was your turn to blush, and you looked back to your phone to hide your face, agreeing quietly. 
Danny retreated to his room to get into his pyjamas, and quickly tidied the space up, feeling self conscious at the state his room was in, shoving his clothes into his drawers haphazardly, and others he took to the laundry basket. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the living room. 
He sat down beside you, his thigh brushing yours and you suddenly became insecure of where you both stood. Usually, it would be normal for you both to be sitting close together, laughing and chatting through movies, but now, things were different. You didn't want to come across as pushy and rushed, but similarly didn't want to do the opposite, act cold or distance after the moments you had shared. 
If Danny was having the same fears, he didn’t let it show, as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer to him while he leaned over to reach for the TV remote with a grunt. 
“Watcha wanna watch?” 
You and Danny settled on the first movie you could, only pausing to get your takeout delivery from the door, before you returned to your position, which seemed to be steadily moving closer to Danny with each reposition or shuffle. 
By the time the film was over and your bellies were full, you were exhausted. You had been emotionally wrecked throughout the day, ranging from betrayal and heartbreak, to renewal and love. 
Danny steadied you by your elbow as you stood, helping you gather your things to take to his room. You were too sleepy to feel nervous. 
“Which side do you sleep on?” you asked as you stood by the doorway. 
Danny scratched the back of his head, “Usually the right, but I don't mind. I move around a lot when I sleep anyway.” Truth be told, Danny rathered that you slept on his side, as he knew that his pillow would smell like you by morning.
It apparently didn't matter though, as when you slipped under the covers of the left side of the bed beside him, his senses were overwhelmed with you. Your smell, your energy and your heat. It also wasn’t long before the two of you closed the distance between you, arms and legs tangled in your attempts to be impossibly closer to one another, your fronts pressed together just like the moments you shared in the shower. 
It all felt so normal. You attributed it to being friends for your whole lives, giving you the ability to close emotional distance without second thought, but it was still startling nonetheless. 
“Thanks again for letting me sleep here, it’s definitely more comfortable than the couch,” you whispered, and he reached behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.
Now cloaked in darkness, you relied only on your hearing to navigate Danny beside you. The rain was still pouring outside the window, and in a way, it felt fitting as a reminder of your day. While a disastrous storm brewed outside, you were safe and warm with Danny at home. 
“Maybe… maybe we could make it a regular thing?” Danny asked nervously. “You know, since you love me and all that,” he teased, trying to ease the tension of his suggestion. You groaned in embarrassment and buried your head into his chest, hearing his chuckles vibrate in his chest. 
“I would like that very much, thank you.”
“Don't thank me. You have no idea how happy I am to have you with me like this right now.”
You sighed deeply, and decided it was your turn to tease. “And just how long have you felt this way for me, hm?” 
Danny chuckled dryly but swallowed, hesitating to tell you in case it made things weird. He didn’t want you to feel that his friendship had ever been false, or as a ruse to gain your attention in that way. 
His nose brushed against your forehead, “I’ve known for sure since eighth grade.” His statement was heavy, and it hung in the air wearily as he waited for you to respond. 
You pulled your head away from him, “Eighth grade?! Danny… what- why didn’t you say anything?”
He sighed, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” 
You understood, but wished he had told you sooner, as though you hadn’t ever realised it was quite love, you knew that you never would have turned away the idea of being with Danny like that. 
“We wasted so much time,” you sighed. 
“What? You mean you felt the same?” he asked, shock lacing his words as his hand tightened around your frame. 
You nodded, “You’ve always treated me better than any boy I ever went out with. I just didn't think that- I didn't think that this was a possibility. I thought you were too good for that. Too-”
“Too good for what?” 
“You know, like with your band and stuff. I don't know, I guess I thought you had more important people to see than me. I didn’t ever think you could actually see me like that,” you tried to explain. 
Danny groaned, “Oh God. I’m never gonna live this down.”
Your brow creased in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“Sammy knew I liked you before I even did, used to tease me about it all the time. The three of them have watched me act like an idiot around you for years. I can't believe you thought that I was ‘too cool’ for you.” He chuckled, though regret laced the dry laugh. 
You felt mild embarrassment at the thought that the boys, who you’d become close with the years that you knew Danny, were keeping the secret from you that would ultimately change your life indefinitely. 
He whispered your name, pulling you from your thoughts, “I have always loved you. Nothing will ever change that.”
“I love you too,” you whispered, clutching his shirt in your hands as you shuffled incredibly closer to him. He smelt like Danny, the comfort you had grown to turn to after many years of safekeeping your heart. 
“Goodnight, sweet girl.” You felt him kiss the top of your head, followed by the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply. 
“Goodnight Danny.”
As you welcomed the blankets of exhaustion over your spent body, Danny began to hum a familiar tune, his voice sounding distant in your haze of sleep. Soon, the song became unmistakably recognisable. 
Because, by The Beatles. Your favourite song.
26 notes · View notes
theriverbeyond · 8 months
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btw re: last reblogged post if you ever want to kudo a fic but worry about being seen at the devil's sacrament you can always open the fic in incognito tab to hit that kudos/comment as guest
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blockedbykei · 2 months
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!
— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)
— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)
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tsukishima kei
- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand
- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing
- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after
- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig
- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-
- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples
- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it
- biggest gift giver EVER
- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to
- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff
- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.
- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century
- is a small spoon when he's so needy
- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.
- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*
- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time
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kageyama tobio
- he smells the ball from far away
- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction
- LIKE A DOG
- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind
- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time
- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO
- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though
- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable
- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute
- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes
- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him
- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way
- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes
- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom
- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting
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hinata shoyo
- fucking TONE DEAF
- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's
- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach
- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt
- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"
- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time
- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that
- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home
- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing
- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face
- loves to give and receive a massage
- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology
- his phone always overheats
- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off
- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe
- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home
- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy
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kuroo tetsuro
- he's actually emo sometimes
- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him
- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair
- smells like soap
- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE
- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag
- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children
- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much
- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)
- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT
- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom
- scared of cockroaches
- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one
- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother
- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together
- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events
- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them
- used to be kenma's discord kitten too
- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down
- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown
- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.
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miya osamu
- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you
- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way
- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch
- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up
- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you
- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you
- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too
- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them
- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious
- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass
- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks
- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice
- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool
- you have your own spot in his shop
- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(
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oikawa tooru
- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest
- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things
- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks
- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose
- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep
- that was also when he fell in love with you lol
- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost
- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him
- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it
- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant
- and he's also just as sassy as you are
- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit
- a jealous bitch
- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"
- you scold him after that. he doesn't care
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ushijima wakatoshi
- bad at social cues
- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already
- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??
- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o
- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot
- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks
- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that
- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub
- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good
- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out
- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much
- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants
- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand
- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal
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moongreenlight · 1 year
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
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ariaxmu · 22 days
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romance brewing
a theodore nott x fem!reader fic
summary: friends to lovers, just cutesy, fluffy n two lovesick cuties.
first time writing for theo !!!! enjoy, i hope its okay..
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theo and i have been best friends since we were four. our parents met, were best friends, thus making us best friends. ill admit, a lot of people assume we are dating in secret anyway. it’s not true. we aren’t. just friends.
yes, just friends.
except not really. at least what i feel for him is anything but friendly. of course i’ve had my worries about how it might affect the friendship, but he’s my life. i cannot picture myself being with anybody else, ever.
hence why none of my previous relationships have worked. i compare every single one of them to him, and they just never, ever compare.
the only problem is i have no idea how he feels about me. pansy tells me, ‘that boy is completely in love with you’. but i just don’t see it. he’s always been sweet to me. i’m a shy person, he’s not. he’s protective of me, very much so. he’s confident, he’s a trouble maker, he’s gorgeous.
i get jealous when i see him talking to other girls, i’ve been heartbroken when he’s had previous girlfriends, i’ve pretended to be happy for him. no, i’m always happy for him, i want him to be happy, but i just wished it was with me.
i sigh, sitting up straighter as i realise where i am, sat in a circle with my closest friends in the common room. drinks scattered everywhere, red plastic cups messing up the room. the room a little blurry to me as my eyes glaze over from tipsiness.
theo is sat down beside me, chuckling as he watches draco do his embarrassing dare. i giggle, too, but not watching draco. watching theo’s pretty face curl into a smile as he laughs.
i swear sometimes when i look at him the world just stops, and it’s only him and i in the room together.
i’m snapped out of my daze as i hear my name being called by draco. i turn my head to him, smiling softly.
“okay pretty, your turn. truth or dare?” he asks mischeviously.
“umm… truth” i say, as i chose dare on my last turn.
“okay… have you ever been in love?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he winks at me.
my cheeks flush pink. “u-uh, yeah”
“really?? with who? you’ve only had two boyfriends!!” eno exclaims. i nod.
“doesn’t mean it was a boyfriend of mine.” i say quietly, blushing more as i grab my drink.
“well- tell us who?” theo says from beside me, eyes wide and cheeks a little red.
“no! my turn is over, someone else’s go now” i mumble, taking a sip of my drink.
“yeah nott, it’s your turn now” blaise smirks, “truth or dare?”
“dare” he answers confidently, winking at me. i go even more red. god. the things this guy does to me without even knowing. i’m certain everybody else knows how i feel, i fear im being way too obvious.
“i dare you.. to choose a girl from this circle to spend 7 minutes in heaven with.” blaise spoke as he smirked. my heart almost stops.
oh god. what if he picks pansy? or astoria? and i have to watch this happen? what if he comes out with their lipstick all over his mouth and- oh god i could throw up.
“y/n.” i hear him say bluntly.
i almost choke on the air. “w-what?” i say, utterly confused.
“i choose you. cmon” he says, standing up and grabbing my hand. i gulp, standing up with him.
“a-are you sure? you don’t have to do this if you really, really don’t want to” i mutter along as he pulls me to the small closet, shutting the door behind us.
“be quiet, of course i want to do this. you think i want to be in a closet with any of those girls?” he fake gags. i giggle.
“be nice” i mumble.
“i thought the easiest option would be for us to just hide in here for a minute” he explains, and the excitement and nerves dissapear from me.
“oh… i see” i say, smiling softly as i try to hide my disappointment. i guess part of me was hoping he wanted to be in here with me for yknow, that reason.
he leans back against the shelves, the warm light peeking through the small gap in the doorway, lighting up his pretty face. i gulp, noticing the close proximity.
“what do you mean, ‘oh… i see’” he mimics me, wearing a raised eyebrow with a smirk.
“nothing.. was just…. agreeing with you” i whisper.
“oh.. oh. you wanted me to drag you in here and kiss you huh?” he smirks, standing up and stepping a little closer to me. my entire face heats up.
“w- no!!!” i exclaim.
“don’t lie, you wanted me to kiss those pretty lips of yours?” he says with a teasing tone.
“stop” i pout.
“aw, your face is all warm. do i make you blush?” he says as the back of his hand brushes my cheek. oh god i might die.
“shush” i whisper.
“just teasing you, bella.” he says, leaning back against the shelf. “unless… unless you liked it?” he prods.
“uh..” i mumble.
“five minutes left!!” i hear pansy yell from outside.
i gulp.
“did you?” he says, eyes softening as he looks at me.
“i don’t know… maybe a little” i say shyly.
“i can’t see you, god i wish i could see you right now. swap with me” he says softly, holding my hips as we switch places, the door illuminating my face now.
“that’s better. you look pretty with your face all flustered. now tell me, did you like it?” he says, his confidence really shining through right now.
“okay fine yes, i did, a little i guess” i mumble out, looking up at him.
“hmm” he says, chuckling a little. “i knew it”
“shuttup” i groan.
“it’s okay… i like you too” he says, seemingly getting a little nervous himself.
“i-i didn’t say i liked you, i said i liked it.” i mutter.
he goes silent for a minute, jokes calming down as the air gets a little thick, the tension growing.
“do you.. yknow, like me?” he whispers.
“uh-” im cut off as the door swings open, pansy standing there with a smirk.
“times up lovebirds”.
theo looks at me, a little desperate looking as we both leave the closet, sitting back down with our friends. i put my hand on the floor, leaning to the side a little as i catch my breath and try to steady my nerves. he sits back down beside me, sitting the same as i am, putting his pinky finger over mine.
i look at him, a small smile on my face as he returns the same.
“okay- enzo, your turn!” pansy says, clapping her hands as she comes up with a devious dare for him.
i try to pay attention to the group but all i can focus on is what the heck happened ten minutes ago in the closet. does he like me back? his pinky is still hooked onto mine. i never got the chance to tell him i liked him. i spiral for another five minutes until i notice everybody standing up.
“huh? where we going?” i say confused.
“late night dip in the black lake, silly. come get ur bikini on under your clothes” pansy says, grabbing my hand and yanking me away to our shared room.
“you need to tell me what happened in there” she shreeks, being the only person who knows about my feelings.
“shhh. they’re only down the hall” i whisper yell. “to be honest i don’t know what happened. he started getting all flirty with me, told me he was just teasing me- but then things got all tense and serious and he asked me if i liked him!” i whisper, panicking.
“i knew it! he clearly likes you back oh my god this is so exciting” pansy paces the room happily as she changes into her bikini.
i grab a plain black one, tying my hair in a side braid as i put mine on, putting my clothes on over the top.
“so i don’t know, he almost kissed me, pansy. almost!!” i sigh.
“then let’s get going, because a romantic swim together in the lake is going to be the best thing for you guys right now. we’ll give you privacy, don’t worry” she winks, holding my hand as we meet he guys outside of the room, all of us walking down to the lake.
like hooligans, they strip down into their shorts and cannonball into the lake. i frown,
“is it really cold?” i yell out to theo.
“its warm!! its summer, bella. hop in” he says swimming closer to me.
i sigh, pulling my clothes off nervously as theo watches, a light blush on his cheeks and a cheeky smile. i throw my wand down beside my clothes, before sitting on the edge of the wooden board beside the lake.
“you gotta jump in!!” pansy says, launching herself into the lake and pretty much on top of draco. i giggle as i watch her. i look at theo.
“i’m not a great swimmer” i whisper, shyly. “you know this”
“that’s why i’m here, i got you. don’t worry” he says, holding his hands out, putting them onto my waist as i scooch into the lake, and his his arms. i squeak a little.
“it is cold!!” i shiver.
“you’ll adjust to it, come on, show me that little paddle of yours” he chuckles, letting go of me and swimming backwards a metre or so.
he’s always made fun of me for this. i can’t swim, traditionally per say, more so like a dog. i kind of wiggle my hands and feet and just hope for the best.
i manage to make it to him, gripping onto his shoulders again.
“you gotta stop making fun of me for that.” i pout.
“never. it’s the cutest thing.” he says softly.
i smile at him, as all of our friends swim over and break us two up. so much for privacy.
i hold onto the wooden plank on the side of the lake, watching as they mess around and dunk each other. i notice pansy whisper something to theo, to which he returns a nod. i furrow my eyebrows.
pansy comes over to me. “i’ll challenge the boys to a lap down to the other wooden plank. you stay here with theo. you need to tell him how you feel. or let him tell you” she winks, swimming backwards and taking the boys with her.
i push myself off of the wood and closer to theo. i kind of manage to float for a second, before he grabs my hips and pulls me into him.
“i got you” he mutters.
i look at him, the moon illuminating his face, just like the light from the door did earlier. but this is better. he looks so pretty.
“you’re beautiful” he breathes out, eyes locked onto mine.
“theo… i-” i stop myself, getting nervous again.
“don’t worry, i know” he mumbles, putting his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing off a splash of water.
“you know?” i whisper.
he nods.
it goes quiet for a moment, both of us just looking into each others eyes. i notice him get a little closer, before he goes for it.
he leans in, attaching his lips onto mine before i can even acknowledge. i hum a little from surprise, but soon i sink into it. it just feels right. my hands wrap around his neck; his gripping my hips as my legs wrap around his hips.
his tongue brushes my bottom lip as the kiss deepens, a little moan erupting from me as we both get a little more desperate.
his hands snake further down my hips. “t-theo” i whisper against his lips. “they’re coming back”
he pulls back, a little love struck and lips a little red and swollen from the kisses.
“god, i love you” he whispers, kissing my lips for a moment again.
“i-i love you too” i whisper back, heart erupting in happiness as finally it’s out there.
“oh, bella. finally” he whispers. “i wanted to kiss you in the closet earlier, but we didn’t have enough time.” he mumbles.
“i know, it’s okay, this is perfect” i whisper back, my cheeks all flushed as the water suddenly seems to be cooling me down.
his hands rub all over my body, our heads only visibly to our friends who are messing around a little further down the lake.
“i wanna go back inside” he whispers. “i just want to spend the night with you”.
“me too, teddy. i’m sure we could.. sneak away?” i whisper.
“mhm. sounds good baby” he says, sneaking a little kiss into my lips. i giggle, watching him hop onto the wooden plank, hair a little wet and the water dripping down his abs. i have to tear my eyes away from him, gulping as he smirks at me.
''you like what you see, hm?'' he winks.
''shush, help me'' i say, holding my arms up as he picks me up.
''mm, look at you'' he grins, wrapping his arms around my waist. i hear whistling and cheering from behind us, my face goes red as i cover it with my hands.
''ignore them, let's go'' he whispers, smirking as we rush back inside.
''have a good night love birds!'' pansy shouts after us.
and let's just say, we had a... good night. :)).
580 notes · View notes
6gumi · 1 year
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breathless.
synopsis ﹒jjk men giving you surprise kisses gone wrong (GONE SEXUAL!) that’s it. that’s the fic
pairings ﹒toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, yuuji itadori, satoru gojo x f!reader
cw ﹒a little suggestive. not proofread (oops), makeout sessions kinda?, yuuji + yuuta aged up! slight vaginal fingering involved, dirty talk, petnames used ! (princess, baby, etc etc) you guys literally just make out n it goes wrong . . . do i need to say more ? <3
note ﹒sm thoughts sm thoughts sm thoughts !!! yuuji’s is the only fluff n innocent one LMFAO feel free 2 interact w me by sending an ask ! i’m still trying 2 finish up my requests so please be patient and know that only thirsts r open for now <3 — millie ! ♡
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୨୧ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji always loved teasing you, especially during makeout sessions you both would have occasionally. he does a lot and i mean a lot of things to tease you during them too, it’s unfair! he loved it whenever you had your arms crossed infront of him, eyebrows furrowed while you lectured him for his laziness. he merely just chuckled at your attempts to tell him off for being such a lazy jerk, slowly closing the distance between both of you. you can’t blame him, can you? it’s not like you wanted him to stop either.. it’s crazy how your voice and that irritated look in your eyes left him feeling light-headed. before he knew it, toji you in his arms, holding you just a little too tight. “hey! let go of me, toji. ‘m not finished saying what i wanna say—“ and.. there he goes again. a deep groan left him as his lips traced each inch of your neck, his entire body clenched as he grabbed your wrist. toji’s other hand buried itself in your hair, caressing and pulling at it from the back, interlocking his lips with yours..
god.. your makeout sessions always begin this way, but honestly you didn’t really complain. toji ran his hand up your body, wrapping it around your neck as she squeezed it lightly.. careful not to hurt you too much. his lips on yours was the sweetest torture you had ever felt in your whole life, your heart pounding against your chest at a furious pace as he held you closer to him, not letting go of you anytime soon. “sorry, doll. what’d ya say earlier? too busy kissin’ these pretty lips of yours.” “oh great, and you weren’t even listening too?” the raven just shrugged, a smug expression painted on his face. “dunno, just wanted t’kiss your lips, you talk too much princess.. needed to shut you up.” gosh, you could’ve sworn you felt a vein popping out of your forehead out of frustration, is this guy for real? “mm.. can i continue kissing your lips?” was all he said, a low sigh leaving your lips before you waited for him to kiss you again. “oh no baby, not these lips. i mean the other ones.” oh yeah, expect yourself to be breathless after this.. kisses or not!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔
yuuta can’t help it! he couldn’t help but admire you the whole time you rambled about a weird first interaction you had with his companion toge inumaki and how hard it was to understand him! thank the lord you didn’t even notice just how intensely his eyes stared at you, as if they were digging daggers into your soul. this is probably a constant thing for him, i feel like yuuta likes giving you shy surprise kisses out of nowhere! and sometimes, he can’t even control his body and they just smooooch your lips, atleast.. that’s what he says! he can’t help but grin every single time he sees that flustered expression on your face after he catches you off guard with his surprise kisses, he’s just trying to have after all. though sometimes he’s aware that, these “small yet shy surprise kisses” will turn into much more than what they seem. and you wanna know what they turn into? heated makeout sessions of course!
yuuta’s large hands rest on the nape of your neck, the other on your waist as he pushes you down the mattress with his weight, trying his best not to crush you completely with his body as his kisses were slow.. slow and passionate yet you knew that was gonna change in a few minutes or so, and you were right! in the blink of an eye, yuuta wraps his two hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up slightly so your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling the both of you closer and into a more passionate yet lustful embrace and kiss. the special grade sorcerer pulled away, chuckling when you puckered your lips a tiiny bit to taste his sweet lips on yours again, yuuta gave your jaw a small peck. “may i?..” the raven muttered under his breath.. lifting your skirt and tugging at the hem of your panties. just know that.. if you nod and say yes, oh boy. be prepared to stay up all night! those surprise kisses were a trap to kiss you until you were breathless!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
let’s see here.. to sum things up, yuuji loves giving you surprises kisses! and i mean loves it! he likes catching you off guard whenever he presses a kiss against you, your boyfriend gives you small little surprise kisses literally anywhere and everywhere, so much that you even have to tell him to tone down a bit because of how flustered you were! “but why, babe? i like kissing you..” he knew you liked it whenever he was affectionate so he would plant many many love kisses all over you nonstop! usually sometimes he even just gives you one when it’s unnecessary or so, kissing you on the cheek while you scroll on your phone.. kissing the nape of your neck from behind whenever you were in the kitchen, sneakily kissing your inner thigh from beneath the bedsheets, you name it! yuuji yawned as he wrapped an arm around your waist, scooting you even closer against him. “babe, can i kiss you?” no answer, you were too focused on that stupid movie you wanted to watch, he didn’t think you’d get this invested. the male gently put a hand on your thigh, surprise-kissing the blade of your shoulder with much desire and love.
anndd.. here you both go again.. on the couch as the room was filled with sharp heavy panting and lewd noises. yuuji’s hands grabbed onto your waist and moved you back and forth on his gap, feeling a bulge press against you as your cunt pulsed around nothing.. you prayed he didn’t feel anything. you always wondered how he’s so sweet and delicate with your kisses as if you were some kind of gentle flower you needed to protect, his touches were so soft.. so gentle and yet a little hesitant.. not wanting to hurt you in anyway. his mouth moved towards your jaw and then your hands. “you should kiss me more babe, i like how soft your lips feel on mine.” “i already allow you to give me surprises kisses in private and public, what more do you need, hm?” “.. another kiss, maybe? or maybe.. more kisses? more than the amount i give you in one day?” ahh.. you know you can’t say no to him, you knew just how much he wanted to kiss you breathless.
୨୧ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
surprise kisses with him are a must (atleast 2 him!) he loves sneaking small little pecks on your cheek and lips, though.. his surprise kisses are rather bold and lead to more intimate moments between the both of you. heated and long messy makeout sessions to more.. bolder ones, though you aren’t complaining really, he isn’t either.. in-fact he loves the faces you make whenever he plunges his tongue inside your mouth with no warning at all, grabbing at your ass.. your waist, you name it! scolding him about his “surprise” kisses won’t help either, he just knows how to rile you up in no time! the special grade groaned into the kiss as he pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your hips and squeezing at it with his hands. satoru sighs lowly, struggling against the heat and lust that was now flowing through his body like hot lava, he wanted more and he craved more.. he didn’t even care that it was supposed to be a “small” surprise kiss, he wanted you and he wanted you now. you sure do have that effect on him.
“you’re such a cute little angel for me, mhm? stay still for me a bit, yeah?” oh you knew what he was gonna do. you hear him spit on the top of his fingers for a second, body jolting as you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. “i’m sorry. i can’t get enough of you. look at this, you’re so wet already, angel. all this for me? all because of the kissing, hm?” he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers at a harsher pace.. feeling your wetness on his fingers. “c’mon, keep kissing me pretty. don’t let these fingers distract you, yeah?” was all he said before the sweetness of his lips returned on your own, his kisses were sloppy and messy but yet he didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon.. his digits curling in your cunt, forcing a muffled moan from your lips. adding another finger in, he could feel how tight his pants felt.. getting all hard just from fingering you and kissing you alone was crazy enough, he wasn’t playing around.. he wanted more.. and he’ll get more. satoru will do this over and over again until you’re absolutely breathless.
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onyourhyuck · 1 year
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Fix Me Softly. | L.DH
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— Prologue: “Open wide pretty girl will ya?”
— Summary: Your best friend has the most dirtiest thoughts about you and he isn’t shy about sharing them with you.
— Genre: Himbo Haechan. Haechan’s literally the most perverted person in this fic. There’s just something about unhinged Haechan who’s a sex maniac tbh. Switch!hyuck. DUB-CON. Oral (fem receiving) and throat fucking (male receiving). Unprotected sex. Haechan is obsessed with y/n thighs. Face riding. Pinning. Cum-play. Hickeys. Possessive Haechan.
— Notes: Sex Obsessed Haechan >>>
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There’s one person you won’t ever understand.
That person being your best friend Haechan.
He was like someone out of another world, when he’s with you Haechan knows zero boundaries. He knows zero social cues. When you are around him Haechan is almost like a wild-animal.
“God you’re so pretty when you study. I want to kiss you so bad Y/n.” He wasn’t shy at all even though he’s meant to be doing this working assignment with you in your bedroom, he was too distracted by your serious face watching the laptop.
You’re trying your best to not give out a reaction considering that Haechan actually enjoys having you hear his dirty thoughts about you all the freaking time. Every minute you guys are together there was not a single moment where he doesn’t tell you how much he wants to fuck you.
You frown looking over at him. “Did you finish your assignment yet or are you here to disturb me?”
Seeing Haechan watching you so intensely it’s almost as if he was already imagining himself wanking off to you while he sees your serious face. He loves it when you scold him too.
Haechan pouts a bit. “No I didn’t finish the assignment. You’re too distracting.”
You sigh. “I told you if you won’t take this seriously I won’t invite you back to my bedroom.”
“But I want you so bad, you can’t do this to me. Please just one kiss and I’ll focus that’s all it takes for me to focus on our college assignment.”
You’re in disbelief at your best friend. Haechan has always had this thing about you. He enjoys your presence and your company. You’re attractive and he just so happens to be attracted to his best friend. Haechan doesn’t even want to hide it how much he is attracted to you.
Sometimes he would lean to kiss you and you would move your head to push him away. Sometimes in class he wants to touch your thigh so badly so he does it and you slap his hand away.
“I really have the urge to take off my jeans and have you take my cock in your mouth right now…” he whispers, as if this was a very casual thing to say to a friend right now.
At times you’re the one rejecting him and telling him to keep his annoying thoughts away because he feels like you don’t believe him when he says how much he wants to fuck you. How much he wants to take a taste of your pussy or the fact that he actually wants to kiss your tempting little pretty lips.
“You’re such a pervert.” You mutter mockingly while he leans in to kiss you on your mouth but you move your face away.
He whines when you moved away from his lips just about when he was going to touch them.
Haechan curls his fingers on your sleeve that you’re wearing. You glare at him now that you see how much he was giving you those puppies eyes.
“Ahh Y/n please one kiss won’t hurt you.”
You can’t believe him but sometimes you really do have the urge to shut him up by kissing him so he could just do the work.
“Shut up and do your work already.” You huff. How do you fix your best friend? You have no idea how to fix Haechan at all.
Haechan draws shapes on your arms with his fingers while watching you. The black hair with white stripes in them make him look edgy but in a way the edgy clothes and style he has makes him attractive. You do admit your friend here was very attractive and he probably has many pros to himself.
But the only side thing is that Haechan wants to have your mouth stuffed full of his meat in your mouth and you’re unstable to process that image in your head.
The fingers with black nail polish on them softly tan down from your forearm to your thighs now to draw shapes on there.
You stare at him while he keeps the eye contact back. For a moment you’re just watching each other in complete silence.
He wasn’t doing his work, and you’re rocking with the fact that there won’t be any work done between you guys at all.
“Please Y/n one kiss… I’m begging you.”
Haechan whispers to your ears with his soft whining voice sounding almost like whimpers that makes your skin crawl.
You’re tempted to just do it so you can get on with the college work honestly.
You glare forward with your hand reaching out grabbing a hold of his chin and slowly lean in kissing him roughly for a second or two. You pull away and leave your hand on his chin. You saw the boy gasp and how much he enjoyed it he was moaning by a single touch of your hand on his skin, and a single small kiss took half of his breath away.
Haechan was craving more now that he knows how your lips feel on his. He leans closer and takes a longer kiss on your mouth without you noticing. You’re now kissing Haechan, trapped in a kiss he puts on your body while crawling on top of you with his running hands down to your waist.
The laptop was pushed aside and you’re kissing him back feeling your senses shut you down. Haechan’s tongue roams across your own walls while he was kissing you. Exploring your sweet lingering mouth that he’s been fantasying about for so long.
It feels so artful to have you spread out on your bed in your dorm room with clothes coming off so gracefully leaving your figure looking empty until Haechan pressed forward his heart-shape mouth dangerously trailing down to your dainty collarbones, upwards your neck leaving marks on your tidy skin. It made you look like a toy in his eyes, but you’re now his toy to be played with. You belong to him now, because the sight of those love bites were a bright reddish colour spreading right up and down your throat angle.
Adding the adept hands between your thighs, he squeezed your inner thigh before rubbing it up and down. The small caresses has your fuzzy mind overflowing out a cracking hole out of nowhere, and the area on your panties were soaking by the time he was gazing you with such a high maintenance look behind those eyes, that tell you you’re not going anywhere.
So clean and cunning. The growing shaft in those tights jeans of his was hardening by the sight of your open legs where he ran down a single finger down to your clothed clit.
You moan on the outside, despite trying to mentally keep your own noises away from reality. You’re here staring Haechan down as he admires your leakage patch on your panties.
“Oh Y/n…you’re so wet for me. I always knew you wanted me but you were playing hard to get. You’re such a minx.” He coos with a growling tease.
Looking at your dumbfounded expression when he said this. Haechan leans down to your ears kissing it. “You’re such a whore, I knew you were lying to me. Rejecting me all this time.” His hands squeeze your hips as he lifts you up on the bed a little.
You mumble a few trails of sighs when Haechan suddenly swapped your positions with you on his lap while he was leaning back casually. Expression on his face tells you he wants something from you and you’re bound to give it to him. It was a fact and not a choice here, and your stomach had this strange fluttering knot deep inside telling you to do it.
He leers mockingly. “Why don’t you let me have a taste of your pussy, Y/n?”
Brushing over his hands on your thighs up and down as you shiver when hearing his words, your voice comes out so tiny and small compared to Haechan’s voice and his intimidating eyes. The black eyeliner on the waterline makes his black eyes so much more magnetic and the black painted fingertips brushing down the skin on your thighs, you could dissolve like crazy from how good his touches feel.
The question was rather sounding like a statement more than an actual question.
You knew deep down the rhetoric answer for him when he moved up to your ass behind groping it pulling your body up only a bit so your thighs welcome the sight of your pussy above him. Haechan pushed aside the wet patch on your panties on the side and then, a grounding slithering wetness of a warm wetness covers your womanhood. Haechan is almost like a starved maniac, coating your cunt with his warm saliva with extreme motions. Circling down the tip of his tongue inside your walls only to pull away and press down even more force of his lips on your own tempting lips down below.
It was wet and sloppy just like how Haechan liked it. He loves hearing your body jolt with each movements because you don’t know what else to expect from the eccentric sex maniac underneath you eating you out.
You don’t know what he will do next, but all you can think about was how skilled Haechan was at eating you out while you’re pressing your thighs on the sides of his face and shoulders. Your toes were curling up with each stroke of his gliding tongue.
He growls against your mound while tightly digging the fingernails in your thick thighs.
“Roll your hips for me baby, please.” It sounded so desperate when Haechan rasps out below your sensitive parts.
It was a demand too. Springing the hips backwards and forward around in all sorts of motion you’re realising the increasing pleasure of your own body, driving down a road. The boy underneath you was nothing more than just a hungry wild animal growling against your wet slit running down his chin.
You’re releasing out your moans without a single thought able to be processed; it’s like every single braincell you had was now no longer existing.
Knot in your stomach was heavy, like a threatening ticking bomb ready to combust.
Haechan loves how you are riding his face now to your own pace that became extremely fast when the pleasure you felt became so much more intense than the high you’ve received from him previously. Dragging down the black painted fingernails on your thighs you’re grunting when you feel Haechan sucking on your clit. Abusing it.
Pressuring on your clit sucking on it with his plum heart-shape lips, as well as vibrating his grunting noises that he can’t contain. You taste absolutely heavenly to not comment on.
He fantasise too much about you. Too long he waited for this moment you’d give in to his shenanigans. It’s been far too long.
One point in his life Haechan was convinced that he cannot be fixed by anyone. The obsession he has with you wasn’t something ordinary.
But here you are Fixing Him Softly by letting him have a taste of you, letting him eat you out like the silly whore you are. Oh how the tables have turned. You ended up rejecting him for so long only to end up in this vulnerable position.
“That’s right, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” Haechan affirms with a domineering tone that creates goosebumps on your skin.
You’re nodding your head. “Fuck— Yes…! I’m right there…”
“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you gasp.
Undertook by the coming heat happening in between your spreading legs you are nipping at your bottom lip as broken incomplete moans break out. Haechan sucks on the sensitive side part of your pussy finally eager to taste your running juices that are dripping all the way down his chin and neckline. You’re holding your own hanging mouth as the heat on your face creates this flush, as if you were sick. You’re unable to see or breathe for a long moment or two. It leaves behind this scorching ember burning in your stomach.
Quicker strokes pull out of you as Haechan was groaning when your thighs tenderly pushed and squeeze around his face, while he rubs down his hand on your bare back.
“Such a filthy slut, that’s right take all of it.” He said with heavy groans coming out as if he held his breath in when the taste of his tongue remains. “Mmm, I love this perfect pussy of yours.”
He was so drunk on you. Drunk of your taste.
The growing number in his pants was due to take place when he looks back at your feverish face. You look so intoxicated, as if he made you this way.
Grabbing on your body the hands creep at your back while the place changes. You’re moving when you see him standing up over the bed dropping down the thick layer of jeans down, along with the boxers. He saw your eyes widen immediately when you saw the shaft spring up looking so wide and big.
Eyes lurches down to his cock threatening you by standing up against his perfectly flat and tone stomach. The beautiful tan on his body makes you salivate and drool. You cannot hold back when your eyes crawl higher up to take a look at Haechan who was smirking.
He purrs. “Open wide pretty girl will ya?” Brushing his fingers under your chin stroking it, you shiver as you feel your cheeks heat up.
You weren’t expecting the sight of him to be this ethereal.
Your voice comes out hushed. “Mm Haechan…” As the round ball shaped tip pressed by your mouth. He purposely teased your mouth by making his large tip poke but not go in your mouth at all.
The tip pulls at your lower lip and you whine when he was now deciding to be such a tease.
“Hurry up.” You demand with your stern eyes, loving that you’re now getting more demanding and less shy.
“Nuhuh baby, i give commands here.”
Haechan wants to see what you’d do if he continued to be as bratty as he is now. You’re waiting for him to give you the next move but he was staying still.
Biting his bottom lip when you glare at him. There’s no way you’ll let him boss you around when you’re this needy to have a taste of him now.
Pulling your palm over the shaft you grab it forward pushing the very fine thickly round shaped tip inside your warming mouth. Haechan wasn’t expecting you to be this quick with your reflexes. He didn’t see this coming. To watch you take slight control of the situation by pulling his entire length inside your mouth. You let him overfill your space.
It feels so damn good though.
He bit his bottom lip, raspy husked speaking out as his hands brushed your hair into a messy half-tried ponytail. “Goddamn baby…didn’t know you had that in you.”
Shifting between teasing you and sounding so heavenly under you. Haechan was enjoying the sight of your head bopping up and down — you took him so seriously and perfectly in your small mouth. Despite the large size, you managed to reach down to his very end.
You make him limp with each stroke your tongue rolls against wrapping your saliva and own slipping tongue like a blanket on his cock.
Stuffing you full but you don’t seem to mind when Haechan was moaning vocally.
He was very open about you knowing every— and you mean every trailing dirty thought he has in his brain right now.
“Shit. You look so much better with my cock stuffing you full. I bet you love this don’t you?” His tongue licks his bottom lip. “Am I right?”
Brushing fingers in the messy ponytail behind your head so he could see the full show you put on while your kitten licks turn to strokes.
You moan a sweet hum against the shaft as you’re trailing down your lips even more.
The tension only grows as you’re sucking him so much Haechan can barely stay still. You’re making him physical weak on the knees and he can’t stay still when you’re practically sucking him dry.
Haechan thrusts forward the hips. Whenever it got so much you’re dragging down his cock into your throat so the thick mushroom tip was banging the back of your mouth, as you deep throat him, Haechan couldn’t help but want more deep ness and he became greedy.
Hips thrust even more and more into your face making all sorts of gagging sounds come out while Haechan’s black hair with soft white streaks became messy hanging down his eyes while the dark gaze was watching you take everything he gave.
Fucking your mouth was always a dream come true for him and now that he was experiencing what fantasy he craves,
He can’t get enough now.
“Oh…oh mmfgh y/n you’re doing so well right now, give me more… please give me more. Please.. fuck,”
Crying out for you. Haechan’s eyes go dim and he was breaking every soft whine escaping those shattering lips.
“I need you to milk my cock dry until i can’t cum anymore.”
You knew that he meant every word underline in bright red. He was being serious. Haechan wants you to suck his own very soul out of him.
Who were you to say no to Haechan when he was begging you so nicely? You feel some empowering dominance over you now when you see the boy shaking from the overstimulating electricity running down his spine and overtaking the very burning ball feeling in his stomach.
Flickering your tongue down his cock once more, Haechan’s head sputters. It feels like a raging headache has split his head into two. The overfilling sensation of cumming inside your mouth as the final push results in Haechan’s knees becoming jelly.
Haechan wails. “Cumming… ah fuck, fuck. I love your mouth so much.. so good,” He breathes heavily.
Detaching your jawline pulling away from the cock in your mouth, it slips out with a watery liquid that tastes between sweet and salty. You can’t put your tongue on what he tastes like. But it was definitely rewarding.
Especially when you see the tired exhaustion on his face.
It tells you everything. You made him have the biggest orgasm he could ever imagine. Haechan gasps when he sits down with a sluggish head on the pillows and you turn your head towards him.
You definitely fixed him. Made him much calmer.
“You still have your assignment to finish.”
You remind him with a strict gaze.
Haechan closed his eyes grumbling. “I know, I know. I’ll finish it in a minute just give me a second — geez Y/n you just sucked me into the next century and you mention the assignment!”
“Okay? Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do that.”
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.
3K notes · View notes
dearharriet · 7 months
Text
Sunday-Side-Up; James Potter 🍳
summary: you’re worried on the morning after a hookup with your friend, james
word count: 2.3K
warnings: pg-13 smut, sexually implicit content, fem!r, beefy/gym!james, pre-relationship, getting together, hurt/comfort(ish), fluff
note: this is technically an addition to sunday, another gym!james fic that I wrote, but u can read it as a standalone if u wish! u can find the request here
An egg simmers and pops in the buttery pan on the stove, mirroring your calamitous heart. It’s all you can look at. A rogue explosion of butter lands on the skin of your hand, but you hardly even flinch, just staring and staring at the pristine yolk in its sea of bubbling white.
Back in your room, harbored by your stuffed animals and rumpled sheets, is your good friend, James. Though you aren’t sure if you could call him as such anymore, considering the less-than-friendly activities you’d partaken in the night before.
How had you let yourself cave like that?
Outside, the sun is calmly rising, paying no mind to your frivolous human thoughts. It scores over the trees surrounding your apartment and lands sharp and warm on your cheeks. You ignore it as best you can, putting all the early energy you have into protecting the little sun you’re cooking.
Your attraction for James was never much of a secret, nor was his for you, but you always assumed there was nothing to be done about it. He’s one of your best friends and most coveted confidants, and losing him includes losing the other two of him, too. It was a silent agreement, you thought.
Until last night, of course, when he’d finally broken and asked to kiss you over a box of takeout.
“I really can’t stand to be alone with you and sit on opposite sides of the couch and pretend that that’s normal,” said James, one hand fisted over his knee. “I feel I’ve gone mad, a bit, trying to dance around this.”
You’d have liked to say you found that a little bit dramatic, but you felt the same way. Being with James was like walking on eggshells, sometimes. Even though you felt quite at home with him, there were still boundaries to maintain. You constantly had to double back, to reel yourself in before you said something too flirty or touched him longer than was necessary. It was exhausting and disappointing. You were tired of being disappointed.
So upon your permission, James had followed you to your room, and he hadn’t held back.
You can’t say you regret it, but you’re certainly worrying. There’s reasons you had boundaries in place, reasons that both you and James resisted the magnetism that pulls you together, and they’re all in the wind now.
If you lost James, lost your friendship…
Carried away with emotions, you push at your fried egg too hard, shaking the buoyant yolk out of its membrane.
“No,” you whine, gripping the offending spatula in your hand. It’s all you can do to watch the yolk seep over the crispy whites surrounding it, spilling onto the hot pan with a sizzle.
“What’s a’matter?”
Your eyes whip over to the kitchen entryway, finding James in a sick state of undress, a pair of boxers low on his hips and glasses crooked where they perch on his nose. Like he’d gotten up to find you before getting dressed, hardly remembering he’d need glasses to do so.
You tell yourself you’re projecting, returning your greedy gaze to the sad situation on the stove. James’ broad chest and muscled thighs creep into the back of your mind for safekeeping anyway.
He comes up behind you, peering easily over your shoulder to gauge what the problem is.
“I broke the yolk,” you tell him, as if it’s not obvious.
James grunts darkly, as if to agree that this is a very grave occurrence. Still, his voice is as comforting as it is gravelly when he responds.
“Well, flip that one and it can be mine. I don’t like sunny-side.”
Turning to glance up at him, you frown. “I thought you did?” You could swear you’ve seen him eat his eggs that way before.
Lips pursing in a shy almost-smile, James relents. “Well, yes, I do. But not strictly. I’ll eat whatever—‘specially if you make it.”
You turn your frown back to the pan, saying nothing. James takes the moment of silence to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his bare chest. The sleep shirt you’d thrown on feels thinner than the broken yolk membrane, letting all of James’ warmth strike you right in the heart. It’s almost too much for you to handle.
Correction, it is too much for you to handle.
Reaching down, you peel James’ hands off of your torso, wincing the whole way through. He backs off, easily taking the hint, but when you glance his way he looks befuddled.
“Um.” James averts his gaze to the floor, clearly knocked down by your rejection. “Have I misread something?”
“No, I’m sorry, I—“
You sigh, realizing this discussion needs more attention than you currently have to spare. In quick movements, you flick the stove burner off and move the pan to one that’s not hot, and then you turn your full effect on James.
Standing in front of you, undressed and muscled and reproachful, James looks embarrassed beyond measure.
“It’s nothing you did, James, I just—I’m not sure last night should’ve happened, is all.”
Picking at your lips worriedly, you await his response, but it’s nothing like you expect. You thought he’d turn sly or charming, convince you that it was worthwhile. James’ eyes blow wide and concerned instead.
“You didn’t want to?” The dread in his voice is thick, knocking you back with the sheer force of it. You almost reach out to comfort him, but think better of it.
“James, of course I did, yes. I wanted to.”
James’ broad shoulders relax from their anxious hunch, but his guarded posture still remains.
“What, then? You didn’t enjoy it?”
You huff. “No, James. Will you stop putting words into my mouth? Of course I enjoyed it, it was—“
You pause, trying to describe exactly how it was, but then shake the entire thought off, realizing you’re getting sidelined. James looks hesitantly amused at your clear flush, the short reminiscing enough to fluster you.
“It doesn’t matter,” you assert. “We can’t do it again.”
“We can’t?” James asks, but it sounds more like a challenge.
“No, we can’t. It’d be irresponsible. There’s a reason we held off on this, and you know it.”
“I know why I held off,” says James, and he’s stepping closer, to your dismay. “Why did you, sweetness?”
Your heart lodges in your throat, set off by his name calling and proximity. Bum pressing back against the counter, you suspect the only way to ward James off now is with a long, pointy stick, threateningly waved back and forth.
“Because,” you start, mouth dry, “it would ruin our friendship.”
A laugh booms forth from James’ throat, making you dizzy. You can’t help but watch his chest shake with it, his boxer elastic slipping ever-so-slightly lower, revealing more coarse hair and golden skin.
“Well,” James says, calling your attention back to his face, “I should hope so. I don’t want to be your friend, love. I thought I made that clear last night.”
You open your mouth and then shut it again. This time, you don’t redirect your thoughts as they amble back to the way James touched you last night, to the overwhelming sensation of finally having him, of being had.
James’ hands find purchase on the counter behind you, caging you between his arms, and you’re sure he knows exactly where your mind’s gone.
“Is that what you want, hm?” he asks, voice rasping with pure desire. “To be friends?”
You swallow. James’ heady scent is spilling over you in waves, which you typically have no trouble with, but you're not prepared for your smells to waft off of him, too. One night in your bed and he’s covered in you, head to toe. You can’t deny how much you enjoy the thought.
He’s so fit. It’s all you can think about with his tanned chest in front of your face, his big arms skimming yours. You know James likes the gym, but you never expected him to look like this.
Now that you’ve touched him, it’s like a dam broke inside you for good. It’s all too easy to reach for him, brushing light fingertips over his soft stomach and his v-line, the happy trail that’s bewitched you.
Finally, your hands push up, up, up his chest, over his pecs and shoulders until you’re looking into his expectant gaze. Had he said something?
“No,” you mumble, voice distracted. “No, I don’t want to be friends.” An incredulous laugh escapes you. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” James repeats, grinning like a child with candy.
You run your hands down his front again, intoxicated with the feel of him under your fingers.
“I guess I’m just a little worried about how this will change things,” you tell him, anchoring yourself to his waist. Pulling him closer.
“It doesn’t have to change anything, if we don’t want it to.”
That makes you smile a bit, his talking about the two of you like a pair, a unit. Still, it’s misguided.
“That’s a bit naive, don’t you think? I mean, something’s changed.” You make a point to emphasize the state you’re both in, the proximity.
James grins wickedly. “Well, that’s the good stuff, love. I only meant we don’t have to tell Remus or Sirius, at least until we’re ready. We don’t even have to go on dates, if you don’t want. We can just be like really, really good friends.”
This simultaneously makes you want to laugh and cry. Your expression settles on what is probably pensive, or indistinguishable.
“I’d want to go on dates…,” you mumble, suddenly feeling very bashful.
James’ whole demeanor seems to flip on its head. Before, he was feigning casualty, like he’d be down for anything. Now he’s all business, locked in on you.
“Yeah?” James asks, his voice unbearably tender. His hands abandon the counter for your hips, kneading the soft skin hidden under your sleep shirt.
“Yeah,” you confirm, breathless. “James, I want this to be more than sex.”
Brows furrowing, James levels you with a curious look.
“Is that what this is about? You think I only want to shag you?”
Embarrassed, you start to shrink away from his examining eyes, only to remember he has you cornered. You settle for the alternative and shove your face into the crook of his neck, groaning.
“Don’t tease me about this, James. Not this.”
“Not teasing, lovely, no. I only want to understand.” James' hand takes up in your hair, spinning it around his fingers and releasing it again and again. His voice is a calm wash now, quiet and raspy. “Is that what had you so worried?”
Reluctantly, you nod as best you can without braining yourself on his jaw or yanking your hair in his grip. James clicks his tongue.
“Can I have a look at you?”
His hand encourages your head back carefully, until his hazel eyes have yours pinned under them, like moths under a kitchen glass. Your face fits between his palms, hot-cheeked and sensitive, hoping he’ll say something to make you feel like less of a fool.
“D’you know why I didn’t try to do this before?” James doesn’t let you answer, bulldozing right through with a nervous sort of energy. “It’s ‘cause I knew I didn’t deserve you. I mean—what?”
You can’t stop your laugh. You’re doubled over into James’ shoulder again, laughing like a prick while he’s trying to be vulnerable with you, but honestly, could you blame yourself?
“What are you talking about, ‘not deserving’ me? You’re so bizarre.” You pull back from him, rosy and amused. Despite being made fun of, James seems to be in light spirits, smiling along with you.
“What’s so bizarre about it? You’re gorgeous and funny and good for me and I don’t deserve it.” He shrugs. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
“I’m good for you, am I?” you repeat oddly, feeling admittedly tingly and giddy from his admission.
“Well, yeah, love. You make me happy.” James’ voice drops a decibel, dangerously sweet and whispered close to your lips. “Even when you’re laughing at me while I tear my chest apart to make you feel better.”
That only makes you laugh again, and this time James presses his smiling mouth over yours.
You soak in his kiss, coaxing his bed-warm body as close to yours as possible until you’re two sides of the same coin. James pushes his hands further up the back of your shirt, relishing in the expanse of bare skin there, and you take his bottom lip between your teeth in response.
Heaving a sound between a laugh and a moan, James takes his bitten mouth down your throat, laving over marks he’d left mere hours before.
You tilt your head, happy to give him more access, only to find your sorry abandoned egg where you’d left it.
“Oh, we forgot about breakfast,” you stress, reaching for the stove with no real purpose. James catches your hand to bring back to your scene together.
“Forget about it,” he mumbles into your skin, “I’ll cook you som’thin later. Right now I want you back in bed.”
You hum, easily agreeing, though you can’t help your other needs, even as James hikes your legs up and around his waist.
“A sunny side egg, please? With jam on toast?”
Laughing into your mouth, James walks you both out of the kitchen blindly.
“Yeah, pretty girl, whatever you want.”
He aims for another kiss, hot and barreling fast around the corner into carnal, but you pull back one more time before he can get carried away.
“And James?”
“Yeah?”
You can’t believe how handsome and strong he is, or that his strength and good looks are quickly becoming yours to enjoy. Splaying a wide hand over his cheek, you make sure he catches the full weight of your next statement, sweetly murmured into his reddened lips.
“You make me happy, too.”
James’ responding smile outshines the rising sun.
+
thank you for reading! xx
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cherry-leclerc · 26 days
Text
don’t lock the door ☆ cs55
genre: fluff, humor, smut, angst, thriller/suspense, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of homicide, erotic literature, tragedy
word count: 9k
An oleander is beautiful—yet deadly. You’re beautiful—yet deadly. But Carlos has always been gentle, and has always known how to take care of things he loves. And even if he doesn’t, he’s willing to learn, just for you. But you can’t outrun secrets. Not when they have everything to do with the only thing he adores—you.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... fingering, riding, car sex
STOP AND READ:
The story you are about to read is not meant to be admired or looked up to. Regularly, the types of fics that I like to present to all of you are light, humorous, and sweet. While I feel that this story does have occasional glimpses of that, it also deals with heavy topics such as; suicide, depression, and homicide. At the end of the day, I care about all my readers, so if any of you feel like this is not something for you then you are always welcomed to head over to my masterlist for much lighter reads. You all know me by now, so you must know that sometimes I like to mix a story of traditional love with a dash of real life struggles, such as trauma and guilt, in this case. With that, I hope you enjoy word for word.
cherry here!...did you miss me????
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Tension is normally one’s enemy. It’s fairly simple, you try your best to avoid what makes your skin crawl. Isn’t that how the story goes?
Not quite. 
There’s tension, yes, but it's only because you’re the opposite sex. Nothing beyond that. It could also be because you’re both introduced to each other as a pair of miserable singles. Lewis is the person you share in common.
She’s a close friend, he proclaims as you two shake hands. The touch is sticky, just like hot glue— and for a minute—it feels like a knife cuts this invisible strain in half. He lets himself salivate over your lioness stare; dark, sharp, amorous. You lean towards him just the same; dominant, mature, suggestive.
I’ve seen you race.
He hums, still attached to your desirable touch. Yeah? Why haven’t I seen you then?
Fingers press sternly against his warm skin, as if to provoke him more than he already feels himself falling into. It should be alarming the way his mind slips into a frenzy because of it, but likes it. The rush. 
Maybe because I wasn’t rooting for you.
There. Right then, he disconnects. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.
You grin. Well, now you know. 
“You know what? Mingle—”
“Who says mingle?” you and Carlos question at the same time, judgemental eyes staring coldly. 
Lewis blushes. “I-I-Is that not a thing anymore?” Silence. “Fuck, I really am getting old...”
The night consists of mimosas, because according to you, it reminds you of your late-mother. “She liked something fruity, but also fun enough to make her head spin. It was entertaining to watch.”
“How so?”
“She’d ramble on and on. Slurred about her dreams.” A sad smile. “That’s the only reason why I ever found out she wanted to become an author. She was fifty—five decades too old—but she said she wanted one last adventure before retiring. It didn’t even matter if she made it onto the New York Times Best Seller list.”
The way your eyes even out, round and almost doughy, makes him trip for a second because this is not the same girl he shook hands with nearly three hours ago. No, this version of you was almost childlike, but he supposes that's how everyone who loses a parent becomes. 
It comes out shy—closed off—your laugh. As if you just caught yourself being too vulnerable. That was always the worst. “Look at me making you my therapist. I have got to stop doing that.” 
His mouth opens lamely, ghostly scoff sitting upon his lips. And if it were to be released, it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. It was a weird thing to note. “I like hearing you talk.”
A beat. “We’ve only just met.”
Carlos grins, crinkles tracing the corner of his eyes like some beauty. “Then let's meet some more.”
The opportunity is there, the kind you’ve been looking for. With a sheepish smile, you nod. “I should warn you though, I’m a bit of a mess.”
Finally, the scoff escapes. And like envisioned, you laugh at the sound.
“Consider me warned.”
-
He fucked you that same night in the back of his car. It was late, so dark that you barely even had the chance to register the fact that you squirted all over his vintage Ferrari. 
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he pants as he snaps his hips up again, fast motion making you head loll bad. You wonder what he means, but as soon as his long fingers circle your swollen bud, you’re just as good as gone.
He asked you out an hour later, when he dropped you off right in front of your apartment. You happily accepted, unable to hide your excitement. 
Your smile falters. “Give me a reason as to why I should say yes.”
“Um, well, you sort of already said…yes?”
The confusion that settles onto his handsome features makes you glow with satisfaction. “I could always change my mind. Pretend this night never even happened.”
Panic rushes harshly against his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why he cares so much, but he does. 
Vulnerability is a bitch. 
“Huh,” he hums, relaxing against his seat, head hitting the expensive cushion. And you can see it. The challenge. He clicks his tongue, bored all of a sudden. “Listen, I want you, but I certainly don’t need you.”
You realize right there and then—you met your match. 
You realize right there and then—you two share the same green pride. 
You realize right there and then—
“It was nice getting to know you.” 
-
The only reason you’re even friends with someone like Lewis is because your mother married rich.
Filthy fucking rich. 
Then, somehow, married richer by her third and last marriage. The man was twisted, but you never knew just how much. Not for a very long time. 
He dabbled in stocks, or some boring shit like that, and later invested in some other crap. Somewhere along the line, you met the Brit. 
The same Brit who now hisses at you through the phone. 
“God damn it, what happened? Weren’t you two getting along?”
You sigh, rubbing your feet together as you admire the way the navy blue paint covers your pedicured nails. Stormy clouds match your mood as you shake the bottle of pills that lay on top of your desk. 
“He’s too vain.”
He groans. “You my dear, dear friend, are looking into a mirror then, I suppose.”
A sharp gasp. “Are you insinuating I’m the same?”
“If the shoe fits…”
“May I remind you that you sit and stare at yourself for God knows how long before any race? Newflash, dickhead, you’re going to sweat, look like shit, and one out of ten times, you’re going to win.”
“I see I triggered something.” He sighs heavily. The sound tells you he’s not really upset or anything, but more so worried. Ever since she died, you’ve been that way. 
Snappy. Defensive. 
“Hey, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. I know you.” 
And although he can’t see, you still smile fondly. Rattling the bottle of antidepressants, you inch up higher and higher onto your chair until you face your own reflection. Shattered glass stares back at you as you feverishly look down. 
“Do you still have an extra pass to this weekend's race?”
-
There had to be something wrong with you. Everyone could tell, and quite frankly, you could agree. Would you admit to it out loud? No, now that’s something different. Or maybe you’re just odd. That would also make sense. Whatever it was, it would explain as to why everyone around you screams with excitement as the fast cars fly by. You, on the other hand, simply stare with straight lips and empty eyes.
While all clap cheerfully when Lewis finishes on the third step, you cross your arms. While everyone runs out of the Mercedes garage to declare front row, you drag your feet slowly to the last. 
While Carlos makes eye contact as he lifts his trophy—notably bigger than the Brits—you yawn.
You’re not impressed.
She’s not impressed, the Spaniard remembers thinking to himself as he smiles wider towards the stacks of cameras that turn him temporarily blind. He selfishly thinks you’re here for him, but he knows that's straight bullshit. Truth be told, it didn’t seem like you were here to support your friend either.
“It’s been so long,” Lewis huffs in disbelief as you stare across with vacant eyes. To him, you’re simply jetlagged. “Can you believe it?”
An exhale. “You did good.” Extending your legs outward, you admire the black tiles that shine back brighter than if it were to be white. “Drinks. On me.”
The Brit laughs. “Deal.”
-
Somewhere close by, they play jazz. 
“Pretty,” you softly speak as you connect your lips to the glass. The live band sways back and forth, only adding to the charm you seem to like. And you like it a lot. “Dance with me.”
Lewis snickers. “I love you to death, but I’m gonna have to go with no.”
You frown. “Come on. I never ask you for anything.”
“You were born with a golden spoon and have used retinol since you were ten, you’re not allowed to ask for anything when you’ve already had everything.”
“Yeah…well not this.” You’re secretly envious of every lady in the room. The way they beam with sincere smiles at their husbands. Boyfriends? Flings? Affairs? Who cares honestly, you were jealous nonetheless. 
The Mercedes driver watches as your fingers lazily tap against your lap, as if signaling you’re free. Guilt slithers down his neck as he sighs in defeat. “Fi–”
“Nice seeing you two here.”
Lewis wants to cry with utter thankfulness as Carlos inches closer with a lousy grin. “Hey! Oh God—hey.” You blink. “Wh-what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, because I’m not.”
The Spanirad shrugs. “I won. Wanted to celebrate, I suppose.” Brown eyes flicker towards you like thunder and suddenly you feel naked under his gaze. You swallow. “You look nice.”
And there it is again—tension.
He cocks his head to the side, almost as if waiting for a compliment of your own. Instead, he finds himself being ignored. Crossing your legs, you lift the empty glass up as the bartender hurries for a refill. 
Finally, Lewis speaks up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay—”
“Who says hay?” you and the brunette spit out with snarkiness. You bite back a smile while he releases a chuckle. 
The Brit stands up, chugging the rest of his drink as he waves you two off. “I’m not that old,” he shouts as he turns the corner and disappears. 
Carlos takes the time to catch up on your appearance. Last time he saw you, you had longer hair, now it appears you’ve had a trim. He likes it. You were slightly tanner, but now appear a shade lighter. It could just be because it’s winter. It's nice seeing other versions of you. 
“So, how have you be—”
“Why are you still here?”
He freezes. It takes him a while to find the strength to open his mouth. 
“We never finished our conversation.”
-
He didn’t fuck you that night, no, he took you dancing. And maybe that’s why it worked this time around. Instead of taking the time to learn all the different types of moans you have, he took the time to learn all about your upbringing. 
I learned how to bike when I turned six. Had severe trust issues for a year, so I tried again when I was seven.
That must be where your scars are from, he thinks to himself, but he finds them endearing.
I like long hair, I find it beautiful, but as soon as it’s starting to grow out I think it looks too weird on me. 
That must be why your hair is shorter than he remembers, but he loves it. Has the urge to run his fingers through.
My favorite movie is How Harry Met Sally, but quite frankly, I don't find Harry attractive at all, so I never really understood why Sally settled down with him after so long.
And you’re honest. Brutally honest. And he finds that attractive.
“How about you, Mr. Singapore?”
I learned how to kart before I learned how to bike, actually. I, too, have scars on my hands from small crashes. 
You blush as you hide yours beneath your coat. 
I have two sisters, so I mainly learned how to dance because of them. I hated it at the time, but now I’m quite grateful.
Is it possible to swoon harder?
And I don’t have a favorite film, necessarily, but I’ve watched How Harry Met Sally, and I would agree. Sally was too good looking for him. 
You have to laugh. “Is that so?”
He smiles. “The name Harry sounds so…” He winks cooly before running a hand through his locks. You giggle. “He looks more like a Bob.”
“Oh my God! Could you imagine? How Bob Met Sally?” You pause. “Wait, that actually doesn’t sound half bad…”
He chews on his bottom lip slowly, nodding in agreement. Silence engulfs you two as you stare at each other with round eyes. He’s the first to crack a loopy grin and you quickly follow with a sheepish one. Then, it vanishes and he’s left looking like he swallowed a frog.
“Listen, about last time…”
“Long forgotten.”
He halts, almost surprised by your response. “No, no, there’s no need to pretend, I was a—”
“Jerk?”
The Spaniard rolls his eyes. “Great, so you haven’t forgotten.”
You shrug. “I’m a girl. We remember everything.”
“Got it,” he declares. “Ask me again.”
Now it’s your turn to freeze. “What?”
“Ask me why you should say yes to a date with me.”
“You don’t have to do this, we’re good—”
“I know we are, but I still want you to ask.”
You lick your lip anxiously before relaxing your stiff shoulders. He tilts his head as if urging you and you nod. “Why should I say yes to you?”
Satisfaction settles. “Because you like a good challenge.” He leans closer. “And isn't that what this is?”
-
Carlos Sainz Jr. was made for you.
“Leave me alone,” you scream, veins throbbing, as you rush past him, heading towards the guest room. You’re glad his parents aren’t home at the moment because Lord knows the embarrassment you would feel.
“No. Not until you talk to me.” As simple as that. Your eyes twitch as you turn back, then bring your hands up to your hips. He adores it when you do that, though he probably shouldn’t right now.
“You want to talk?” You let out an unhinged scoff. “Oh, would you look at that, he wants to talk! Now he wants to talk. Well guess what, fuckhead—I don’t.” 
With that, you march out into the balcony. His eyes follow the way you light up a cigarette. The way you drink the last drops of champagne that linger in the bottle gifted to you by his mother. 
She was kind. She was beautiful. She didn’t deserve someone being this mean to her son.
You barely recognize him because of how blurry your vision is, but his scent does it. Musky. Woody. Calm. 
He hands you the familiar pill, then a glass of water. He rushes the champagne away, then takes the cigarette and squashes it against the cold floor. He doesn’t so much call you out for being a lunatic, for upsetting his dogs with all your yelling, or for pushing him. No, he doesn’t do any of that. And you have never been more in love with him than now.
“I know I can be a bit much sometimes…” A sniffle. “I swear I try to catch onto it so you don’t have to deal with any of this, but—”
“You don’t mean it.” He tangles his fingers through your hair as you sob. And it’s soft despite spending the entire day near the ocean. It feels silky. He’s obsessed. “I know you.”
-
You were made for Carlos Sainz Jr.
“How do I look?” 
“Like an angel.” He swears he turns bright red when you blow him a kiss. “Your name must’ve been Bonita in another life because look at you…” A hand flies up to clutch onto his heart as he makes a face. “Though, I must say, you do know how to make me look bad.”
You giggle. “Oh? This old thing? I thrifted it. Nice, eh?”
He groans. “Very, but you’re supposed to be rooting for Spain.” A gag. “Not Italy.”
You frown. “That's all I had. Plus, you’re basically Italian given your working status.”
“No, amor, they pay me to like Italy. It’s a cover up, think about it.”
You huff, popping your hip outward. “Still. I like it, so I’m wearing it while cheering for the opposite team.”
“Always over complicating things.” He laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re a complicated person.”
A deadpan expression. “Suck your own dick.”
“Oi, relax.”
Spinning to face the mirror, you fix your jersey one last time before skipping out the door, tube socks sliding as you go. The Spaniard lets out a dreamy sigh. 
Were you flawless? Not at all.
Were you put together? Not without a prescription.
But he loved figuring it all out with you. And that’s called love.
-
You’re in the middle of a rampage, during dinner. While everyone stares at you puzzled, he simply laughs at your cartoon expressions. 
“I mean, I offered!” A pout. “I clearly stated I could get the cap signed for her and she gave me the nastiest, ugliest, dirty-looking glare! I for sure thought her face was permanently damaged.” You relax against the chair, your shaky hand finding its way to your water bottle. “Like sorry for riding your favorite driver…”
Charles laughs nervously. “I don’t think that was a necessary thing to include…” 
You shrug, raising your brows over to your boyfriend who struggles to breathe. 
The conversation flows easily, like most nights you're all together, but this time there’s a minor bump. You’ve been good about it; avoiding the question for so long. Over the course of time, you’ve managed to be so mendacious, that truly no one knew the truth. Not even Carlos.
“I hope it’s not overstepping, but how did your mum pass?”
He means no harm, Lando, but you just wish so badly that you could believe that. While Carlos and Lewis were the closest thing you have to a family nowadays, even they knew not to ask. You never laid the rules out loud, but they could tell it was an unwanted topic to have on your behalf, no matter how curious they got. 
All of a sudden, your mood deteriorates. The look in Lando’s eyes makes sure to strike off as an apology, but you’re so busy looking down onto your lap that you don’t even pinpoint the meaning. The table grows awkward as time ticks by. 
No one has the power to change the subject, save you the same way doctors tried to save your mother—because they, too—wonder. 
You gulp, feeling small, but far too seen at the same time. It was confusing. “She, um…her last husband…” Everyone feels bad, like you’re some limping puppy, zigzagging down an empty highway, but remain quiet. Then, you look up, stone cold but the tip of your rosy nose and blotchy face is enough reassurance that you still have a beating heart.
“Husband number three strangled her to death.”
You say it like you don’t care. Like it hasn’t affected you at all, and that makes Carlos blink twice as fast as everyone else in the table. A droplet makes its way down your cheek as you let out a light laugh. 
“I guess he thought he was some Superior God who had a say in cutting her time short.”
They all freeze. 
“I am so sorry for asking—” 
“I didn’t need to respond.” You smile lamely. “It’s fine, Lando.”
But it’s not, not even close. They ripped the confession out of your throat, at least that’s what it felt like. No one stepped up, no one said anything. 
Your eyes flicker to the only man who makes your heart speed. 
He reaches for your hand and you grip it hard.
No one said anything.
Not. Even. Carlos.
-
You’ve always excelled at holding a grudge. It came fairly simple. 
But as you stare at him through the screen, for the first time—and only the first time—you struggle. Maybe it’s his puppy eyes that betray you, or his gentleness anytime he steps near you, you don’t really know. 
And you don’t want to.
“I was thinking mariscos.”
Hair flies past your eyes as you squint. He looks particularly handsome today, wearing a linen shirt that drapes over him like some silver armor. Long waves brush against his temples as he returns the squint, slightly smiling at your lips. 
“Sounds good to me.”
Soft music roams the isolated restaurant that almost seemed to belong to just you two, and that helps you relax. You could tell it helps him too. 
“The car felt good today.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, biting onto a piece of shrimp. “Felt like I was flying.”
You let out a whistle. There’s a comfortable silence that lingers for a while before you raise a brow up to the open sky. “Hey,” you start as his orbs flicker up with all the attention in the world. “Do you believe in angels?”
A moment. “I’d say so, yes. Yes, I do.”
Hum. “You sound freakishly sure.” You inch forward with teasing eyes. “Why?”
“Easy.” Chocolate orbs swirl with adoration. “There’s you.”
“I don’t count.”
He frowns. “And why not?”
“Because you love me, of course you’d say that only to be nice.”
“I say so because I know so.”
“Love is blind, love is blind,” you chant, sipping on his open can.
A second ticks by. “Why do you ask?”
And like the first night he met you, your eyes merge into doe eyes. “Because I do.” A sheepish grin. “And sorry to disappoint, but it’s not you.” 
“What’s his name?” he jokes.
But you’re not even listening. “My mom was pure. She was a good person, Carlos.” A beat. “She’s my forever angel.”
His heart physically hurts at your glossy eyes, immediately reaching for your hands. “You must really miss her…”
A wet laugh. “Is there a word stronger than ‘really’? If there is, then that would be one way to say it.”
And he has to apologize, even if it’s seven days too late. 
“I’m sorry for not stepping in that night. I-I-I should have said something and you should have said nothing.” Thick brows knit in together. “You don’t know how shitty I felt, but—”
“You wanted to know as well.”
The way his features freeze is enough confirmation. And you can't be mad. Not even a little. Not even a lot. 
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Carlos. I should have been more open and honest with you first.” A gust of hot air slaps you across the face. “I tend to shut out people like you because…I don’t know.”
“Vulnerability is a bitch?”
You laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” Orbs scan his beauty with no shame before falling back. “You still have plenty of questions, don’t you?”
“O-of course not.”
Another laugh. “It’s okay. You caught me in a good mood. Go on.”
He’s awkward at first, but slowly eases with the sound of your breathing. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”
“Because he’s a multi-billionaire.”
He gulps and you blink. “Why haven’t you sued?”
“Because I’m not a multi-billionaire.”
“So…he did a cover up with a wad of cash?”
“Mhm. No one dared ask whose hand shaped bruise was imprinted in her neck.”
He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but he knows he needs this because he knows it will keep him up the same ways it’s kept him up since that god forbidden dinner. 
“This was the cause of your…” He doesn’t even want to finish his sentence.
“Depression…yeah. Losing someone you love will do that to ya.”
But he wants to ask—he wants to ask more because he knows there has to be more. He’s lost people he loves too—and he loved them very much—and he never got this way. In a flash, he feels guilty for comparing his healing process to yours but quickly looks down onto his lap. 
And the hot summer rain is enough warning for him not to question you any further. 
The Spaniard shares a grateful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. To take care of you, and all t-that,” he stutters, blushing.
“I love you, Carlos.” A beat. “I’ve always trusted you. The only person I don’t trust is myself.”
-
“Be quiet,” she hisses, urgently signaling you closer. “And make sure to shut the door.”
Confused, you hesitantly push until you hear a click. Inching closer to your mom, you slowly become more and more lost as you eye the scattered papers all over your step-dads office table. “What is all this?”
Color drains from her normally youthful face. Even the brightest shade of red can’t help add life. “Proof of embezzlement.”
“What?”
She slides stacks of black folders towards you and you quickly flip through, to which you don’t understand a single thing. “He’s stealing money, that’s what. We’re not talking thousands, we’re talking millions,” she whispers frantically before growing green. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Okay, okay, hold on, you’re okay.” Rushing to be next to her, you clumsily tie her hair up into a messy ponytail before fanning her with the white sheets. You wince, quickly placing them back down. “How did you even come across this?”
Just as fast as a lighting bolt, she spins the chair. “I’m starting my book—” She gags, “I was supposed to start today, but I came in here looking for his typewriter. You know, the one with the tiny cherubs?” Across the office, you spot it, the tiny angels delicately painted onto the infamous typewriter. You nod. “Well, I started to search for some paper and instead found all of this…”
Even you grow dizzy as you eye the infinite zero’s that jump out against all types of sums. That’s not even enough to spend in ten lifetimes. It was no wonder he just recently made it onto The Forbes list. Her eyes—honest as ever—make you panic as you twirl your thumbs. “Wait…you’re not thinking of confronting him about it, are you?”
“I have to.” Pause. “Right?”
No. You don’t want her to. Not in any scenario. It’s taken you both so long to reach the life you deserve, and now that you were finally here it’s about to be ripped away from you? Your lack of words makes her glare. 
“I don’t know why I’m asking you, I have to! It’s the right thing to do.”
Adrenaline. “Mom, just think about it—”
“I did not raise you to be avaricious,” she spits out, fire practically fuming out of her.  You flinch. “I’m going to talk to him.”
“Y-you’re right.” There goes all your money down the drain. “I’m with you no matter what.” 
Knock knock.
Like mother-daughter, you both freeze as your eyes flicker to the sound. 
“Angelica, are you in there?”
You never liked the name Angelica. Not on anyone else that wasn’t your Angelica. 
Running over to open, she finds herself face-to-face to Lucifer himself as he cocks his head in humor. “Locking me out of my own office now?” He enters. “Fun.” Dark eyes roam the messy area. “Fun.”
Her eyes plead with you in a language only you both knew, but never did you mean to obey. You wanted to stay with her—something told you to stay with her. 
“Honey, give us some privacy, yeah?”
“U-uh…” He winks like that was the go-ahead. Like that was the last permission you needed to agree. And maybe it was. 
Deep down it’s almost like you knew he had sinister intentions. Deep down it’s almost like you knew he was capable of committing those sinister intentions. 
Deep down. 
It’s like you don’t even care.
You smile, tight lipped. “Whatever you need.”
You heard the argument that night, you heard the threats. You heard her pleads, you heard her chokes. You could only imagine what was going on inside, but you were your mothers daughter. You could imagine quite a lot. 
She could’ve been an author—with his resources she might just have hit the New York Times Best Seller list. She could have been a grandmother one day—surely your kids would have lived a luxurious life. 
She could have been obedient. Why wasn’t she obedient? Was it so hard to brush it all under the rug?
He was sweating, just as much as a pig. Or maybe he’s glowing, he is smiling after all. Here and there he apologizes in a lousy manner, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was—
“How much money am I gonna get to keep?”
He’s intrigued. “How much do you want?”
“Enough to not have to worry.” You can still see it; cramped rooms, tin canned meals on paper plates. You could never go back.
An eye roll. “You’re just like her…” A beat. “Fucking greedy.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’re embarrassed—-of course you were—who is he to judge? He sighs. “No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“It means I’m not transferring you anything. I want you out of this house no later than Sunday.”
Plump lips open, then snap shut, teeth gritting. “I’ll tell everyone that you’re a murderer. You’ll lose it all, w-watch.”
He’s not phased. Not even in the slightest. “And who’s going to believe you? Tell me, really, because I’d like to know.”
Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything.
And fuck yourself for having nothing at all—again.
Months swept by, the death was ruled a suicide, and antidepressant became your loyal friend. There was no one else, and sometimes you feared there would always be no one else. 
Then—by some miracle—there was Carlos.
He was handsome. He was shy. He was sweet. He was kind.
He was rich.
You played hard to get, but so did he. You played the long haul, but so did he. You were a fantastic liar, but he was an ever better believer.
And it all clicked.
Just the way it was supposed to.
-
You’ve been accustomed to a certain lifestyle for years now, but somehow you’re always surprised about the sudden boost you’ve switched to ever since you’ve met him.
Chanel heels turned into red bottoms. Last season dresses turned into those that were not yet  released. You loved everything about it.
“You look so beautiful, cariño,” he groans against your lips, desperate for more. His large hands play with the silky fabric, fighting to slide it up against your hips. You shudder. “I mean…come on.”
“Hey, hey—that’s sweet and all—” You push yourself closer to his toned body, immediately feeling his erection. You nearly whimper.  “But why don’t you fuck me instead?” A kiss. “You missed me, no?”
And instead—he whimpers. “How dare you even ask?” 
With that, he picks you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. You’re dizzy, because unbeknownst to him, he’s casted a spell on you. Never did you think you could fall in love, much less, have someone reciprocate. 
Tender fingers make their way to your clit as you lunge forward, biting down onto his shoulder. It should amaze you how he holds you up with one arm, but you’re not. If anything, you leak more and more by every passing second. 
His dirty pants make you fold as you clench around him. The way they curl, the way they pulse, all of it was your kryptonite. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” you squeal, keeping your eyes trapped shut, feeling the familiar knot forming. He grins, pecking your sweaty forehead, digits speeding up. Berry lips form an O as you moan louder with every push.”I-I’m c-c-close—oh God.”
“Shh. It’s okay, let go for me, yeah? I’m right here with you.” 
Gritting your teeth harder, you moan like some pornstar as you finish all around him. Almost like some rule, he desperately sucks his fingers clean. The Spaniard hums like he’s living his biggest dream of all before opening his round eyes. 
“So sweet.”
You blush. “Yours tastes like shit.”
He laughs. “And yet you beg for me to finish all over your face, isn’t that so?”
Nearly choking at his bluntness, you fight back a smile as you play with his floppy locks. They’ve grown so much from the last time you saw him, so this was certainly eye candy to you. He sighs, relaxing as you continue to twirl thick strands around your fingers.
Soft legs still drape over his waist, hands still lay around your waist, and even breathing connects you both. Carlos feels like he’s nearly dozing off, but his hand remains firm, preferring to take a bullet than to let you fall. 
You like to think that you like his lashes the best. But then there’s his eyes. And his nose. And his heart. And his lips. And his hands. And his sculpture body. And his jokes. And his laugh. And his freckles. So you never could choose, not truly.
Inching closer to his ear, you smirk slowly. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”
His eyes snap open, jaw clenching. “You’re such a tease.”
A shrug. “Want to or not?” You bite your lip, legs letting go of his hips as you slide down. “Because this offer ends in five…” He raises a skeptical brow. “Four…” You motion him closer to which he steadily follows. “Three…” He laughs. “Two, one!”
Sprinting up the stairs in a flash, you giggle as he chases after you. The sound of his steps make your heart beat faster as you jump onto your shared bed. Rushing past the corner, he cocks his head to the side as he clicks his tongue. Stepping into the room carefully, he swung the door closed before locking it. You frown.
“Reassures me that no one will walk in.”
“No one will walk in,” you whisper as your stomach drops. “There’s no need t-to—”
“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, taking in your breathless state. “But I prefer it this way. Just you.” A closer stride. “And me.”
Palms are sweaty. Blood slithers down your throat and thighs. And yet your freeze. You feel hot and cold, all at once. You don’t like the feeling, any of it, but you try to ignore the inner monologue. 
“You look stunning,” he states, finally reaching you. “You always do.”
Your speeding heart lessens. “T-thank you.” 
A beat. “You’re not nervous—are you?”
Hastily, you shake your head. “N-no! Of course not!”
Thick brows knit together. “Because you normally aren’t.” His smile fades. “W-we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, you know that right?”
Physically, you’re cringing. Mentally, you’re spiraling. The act itself makes the Spaniard withdraw, taking a steady step back and shaking his head. Panic rises fast as you crawl closer to him, reaching the end of the bed. 
“I just have a lot on my mind, but I want this.” A beat. “I want you.”
It’s as if you’re a blank sheet of paper, blinking up at Carlos with such innocence. So much so, it makes his heart stop. He looks for reassurance, which you give him, and he looks for it again, which you give again without hesitance. 
“Come on, Carlitos…” you slowly whisper, batting your eyes. “I know you’ve missed my mouth.”
If you weren’t so breathtaking, if you weren’t so seductive, if you weren’t so goddamn tempting then surely turning you down wouldn’t be an issue. By alas, you’re here—and even better—you’re all his. 
“Eres un sueño.” It seems like an eternity passes by before he finally steps close to you once again, getting rid of whatever distance you ever had. Like it was never meant to be there to begin with. “Can I kiss you first?”
It’s sweet that he feels the need to build up to fucking you sore, but sweet nonetheless. That’s one thing you love about him—and there’s a lot to choose from—his respect towards you. Smiling warmly, you extend your arm, inviting him like an angel before he smashes his lips against you like the devil.
The contrast. It’s just what you needed.
“God, I fucking love you.” 
“I—” His lips press harsher as he continues marking his territory. All of it was making your head spin like a rollercoaster. “I love you too,” you manage to spit out as he makes his way down. You blush. “I-I-I sort of wanted to…”
He blinks. “Sort of what?”
“Well, you know…” You point towards his hardened cock. 
And he actually snickers. “Cat got your tongue today or what, bella?”
A groan. “You’re so fucking annoying—”
“No, no, no,” he cuts in with a whistle. “By all means, go ahead.”
Desperate hands crazily reach out towards his belt in a nanosecond. You should be ashamed how hopeless you are, but you don’t find enough strength to care. Not when he was looking down at you with hungry eyes. 
“Tan linda,” he whispered underneath his breath. As if you weren’t meant to hear him. As if he can’t quite believe it’s you he gets to keep. This must all be a dream to him, he thinks. 
Just as you’re about to pull his jeans down, large hands get ahold of your wrists. Confused, you look up at him, head tilted and messy hair falling over your shoulder. He grins wickedly. 
“Just one more kiss.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me—”
But his soft lips move with such urgency that you don’t even have time to bitch and moan. Not that you’re trying. You can feel it; the hunger, the lust. The way you run your fingers through his hair, or how he squeezes your ass. In a matter of seconds, the room grows steamy, hot breaths expanding with every peck. It’s as if Carlos was too afraid of being ripped away from you even for a second, scared your lips might change and he wouldn’t know a thing about it.
Not knowing you might be his biggest fear.
It happens without a warning, his grip. You feel it slide slowly up your ribs—you remember thinking how much you like it, how much it tickles. Then it reaches your chest, to which his eager hands squeeze your tits, pathetically moaning into your mouth. You can’t help but giggle, but still not separating. And then…
It reaches your neck.
As soon as he squeezes, your eyesight begins to blur, but he doesn’t notice. Your chest begins to rise and fall at an alarming rate, but he doesn’t notice. And you’re terrified.
But he doesn’t notice.
“Carlos,” you whimper, but he takes it as a good sign, mouth moving with ease. “Carlos, honey…”
“Yeah, baby?” His voice is deep. “You like that?” Large palm squeezes harder. “Bet you do.”
“Okay, stop!” you scream, arms flying like some madman. “Let go of me!”
Panicked, he releases you in a hurry, jumping off of your trembling body. Color drains his face as realization hits him, but it's too late. You’re sobbing hard, shoulders bouncing up and down. The way you crawl back with fear makes his heart break as he shakes his head, running a hand against his jaw.
“Fuck.” More cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I am so sorry, baby…” Desperate eyes stare back at you as you hide your face against your shaky hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. I should have known, I should have known.” Inching closer proves to be a mistake when you leap off the bed, throwing a mountain of pillows like daggers. 
“Stop it,” you demand. “Stay. Right. There.”
He flinches. “Are you afraid of me?”
The laugh that erupts from your throat is unlike the others he’s heard. It’s almost maniacal. It makes his skin grow with goosebumps. “Is that even a question?” Dark mascara runs down your cheeks as you breathe heavily. “You just tried to kill me.”
“No,” he pronounces. “No, you know that that’s not true. I-I-I thought you’d like it!” The glare you flicker is enough for him to wince, pinching the tip of his nose. “I should have known better, okay? Please, just…calm down.”
All your sniffles come to an end as you freeze. “Are you calling me crazy?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh my God.” Pushing your hair back, you release a chuckle. “You actually think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, stop putting words into my mouth.”
A scoff. “Okay, wow.” 
He doesn’t have a clue as to how he continues to dig himself into a hole—and yet—here he is. Digging his own grave. Exhaling hard, he licks his lips before looking straight into your glossy eyes. “I love you,” he starts, but you remain as still as a statue. “And I want us to work through this. I want to be able to talk to you, yeah?” A beat. “I’m sorry about…what I did, I should have never done it knowing you’re…traumatized.” 
He’s almost scared to see your reaction, but it never comes. Instead, you blink hastily, as if you’re mortified. 
You should’ve known. You should have figured that karma would catch up to you sooner or later.
I mean, all sins must be paid for, right?
As soon as he starts closing the gap, you’re thumping heart picks right back up. “I just want to talk—”
“No.”
Despite his hurt, he continues his march towards you. “I just want to be near you, please—”
“I said no!” 
It happens almost in the blink of an eye, the sound of glass shattering. He sort of thinks he must’ve imagined it, your hand flying to punch the mirror right besides you, but the gentle blood that oozes out of your hand makes his heart stop. Suddenly, all the scars you have make sense. So much makes sense. 
“Just…stay there, Carlos,” you say, voice trembling, small hand holding out a piece of sharp glass towards him like some wannabe knife. You bite your bottom lip. “Just—there.”
“Cariño…”
“Stop it with that,” you plead, teardrops slipping. “Stop calling me that.”
Somewhere in the shard, he catches his reflection. Half-scared, half-brokenhearted. He doesn’t even know how you two got to this point. 
He gulps. “Okay. I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but please put that down.” You shake your head fast, splotchy cheeks flushing furthermore. Carlos sighs desperately. “Come on—you’re bleeding.”
“I’m used to it by now.”
Tension resurfaces once again between you both as you stare at each other, awaiting for the next challenge. Playing the silent game for a second, curious to see who breaks next. 
“Why did you lock the door?”
He almost laughs. “We always shut the door—”
You raise the blade up higher as you begin to lose patience. Deep down, you know you’re not capable of harming him, but how could you ever let your guard down once again when he tried to strangle you to death?
History almost repeats itself, and you’ll be damned if you ever let it happen.
“You said it, we shut it but we never lock it.” A soft cry. “What were you planning on doing to me, Carlos?”
It’s like a knife to the heart, you’re sudden distrust. The brunette finds himself struggling to breath as he blinks like a lost deer. 
“You know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose, at least…”
You let out a wet snarl, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you.”
A flinch. “All of this was a mistake and I adore you.”
“You don’t, though,” you protest, the shaky vision intensifying. “If not you wouldn’t have tried to mur—”
“For the last time, I’m not your step-father!” It’s as if he’s finally reached his breaking point, just now. His body is tired. His mind is tired. Everything is just tired of trying. Carlos shrugs lamely. “If you don’t want to believe me…so be it.”
The pain that rains out of him should be enough for you to know that he’s telling the complete truth. He’s a good guy, with pure intentions. He’s not here to get even with you on your mothers behalf. None of what you’re imagining is true.
But you just can’t seem to understand. 
“I don’t believe your lies, alright?” you spit out with deep breaths. You drop the blade, finally. “Open the door.”
With his head hung low, he complies, feet dragging with every step. And finally, with a hand on the knob, he turns to give you one last glance. He can tell you’re holding in your breath and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Why it make him feel so much like a monster…
Click. The wooden door swings open as he pushes it gently.
“Now leave.”
A wave of nausea strikes with your words. “Amor—“
“Stop. Don’t even look at me.” Tension. “I don’t want to see you ever again—not even by accident.”
And that was the last stab that ended it all.
-
Every now and then, he wonders how you are. Hopefully better. 
He hears your name mentioned once in a blue moon, but instinctively blocks it out, too disturbed at the thought of what occurred between you two. 
What did occur between you two?
He could take a guess and say that you’re internally fucked. Straight and simple. 
But it’s still annoying. The way he wishes to forget you with every passing birthday wish. 
At first, it was because he missed you. He just wanted to forget you because he missed you—yes.
Later, it was because the memory of the cramped room suffocated him. The sound of glass breaking was stronger than the sound of his car crashing. And somehow the latter seemed better. 
He just wanted to forget that day—yes. 
Staring off into space has been his thing for a long time, often getting called out on it. Now, he finds himself with his eyes closed, too scared that someone might notice his feelings and feel the need to ask if he’s okay. 
He hasn't been. Not since you. 
“Grape or watermelon?”
Popping and eye open, he catches a glance of Lewis before rolling over. “I’m good.”
It’s tough, this silent war between both his friends. The break up simply made this…tough. Especially when no one really knows what happened. 
Setting the electrolytes down, the Brit claims a spot next to the brunette. Groaning at the unwanted company, Carlos switches to sit upright. Brown eyes glare strongly before Lewis laughs it off. 
“How you doin’, bud?”
Great, no yeah, just severely depressed thanks to your so-called friend. Would you mind asking her where she gets her antidepressants from for me? I mean, I would, but last time we saw each other she, uh, I don’t know, tried to stab me? And you know what’s the most fucked up shit? It’s the fact that I still love her just the same. 
I just wanted to help. 
He forces a shy smile. “Fine.”
A pity grimace. “I can tell she misses you, you know?”
Carlos hates how excited the thought of you alone—dreamily sighing for his return—gets him to sit up straighter, suddenly interested. It’s foolish, really. 
“She would never admit it, but I can tell because I know—”
“Her?” The Spaniard lets out a mocking scoff. “Trust me, you don’t. Not entirely.”
That shuts Lewis right up as he sits there, staring blankly. A dark brow furrows. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—not that I need to know—but she’s a good person. And so are you. So…don’t be afraid of reaching out.”
He flickers his brown eyes accusingly. “Why should I? Did she put you up to this?”
“She didn’t—“
But the fact is, the hesitation gives him away. Anger arises as the Spaniard rolls his eyes. “I knew it, God, I knew it!” A second. “I know her.”
The Brit drowns with nervousness as he waves his hands in despair. “She just wants you to apologize!”
A singular laugh. “Apologize for what?” He pauses, squinting at his friend. “She didn’t tell you why we broke up, did she?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t really know who’s fault it was, do you?”
Lewis looks down onto his lap. “No. Not really.”
“Great, then let me be the one to tell you that it was both of ours. I’m no saint but neither is she.”
An award silence lingers as the Spaniards voice echoes the room. Lewis nods. “Understood. I got it, okay?”
He sighs an irregular sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t worry about it, man.” A sheepish grin. “It’s not my place to fix anything about your guys’ relationship, I get it.”
Carlos’ face switches to bright red as he nods his head once. “T-thanks.”
The Brit, ever happily, stands up firmly before patting his back. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“Gracias.” Lewis is just a few steps away when he clears his throat before he can even stop himself from asking. “How’s she doing?”
It came across almost softer than a mumble, and one might have missed it if not alert, but not Lewis. 
Spinning to face the almost manchild with round eyes, he smiles as bright as the sun, and that makes his stomach turn. Because he knows. He knows you’re doing—
“Really well.”
Fluffy hair falls down as he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s good.” Sure. He returns the same smile with a twitch. “That’s really good.”
Lewis has known you two for a long time now. He’s unwillingly memorized your ticks. How the right side of your face slightly twitches before every lie, or how the left side of his does the same before every lie. Much like right now. 
The Brit contemplates for a minute, then two, then opens his mouth in the most hesitant manner. 
“She’s moving to Germany.” Carlos freezes. “Only for a few months. Maybe a year, who knows. But…you should read her book.”
He unfreezes. “Her what?”
A faint smile. Eyes crinkled. “It’s a tough read, but I believe it was necessary. You know, to finally talk about it.”
-
He never quite believed you would open up this way, and yet here he was, in an unknown bookstore, spacing out. Your name jumps out like some shooting star, too difficult to ignore. 
Without a doubt, you’d get a lawsuit from your step-father. Of course—you were only dragging the last name of what seemed to be the world's richest man. 
For what it’s worth, Carlos is proud. This must mean you’re open to moving on. To get the necessary help you so desperately need. From start to finish, the pages are enticing. You go into gruesome depth, something you never seemed to have a problem in doing. From the mention of how her eyes remained open with no sign of life, only terror, to the fact that you got your many scars from punching the door, trying to get in on time. How he bribed his way against the laws. 
Everything seemed to be coming out.
So then why, as he sits in his driver's room, staring at your picture in the back of the book, does he feel like doesn’t believe it? 
Not even a generous half.
-
Angelica lived up to the first five letters of her name. 
She was there for you in the moments you needed her the most. She braided your hair for playdates, she tied your shoe laces even when you were too embarrassed to ask, and she worked her way up, making sure you had it all. 
Undeniably, she was one hell of a woman. Then again, she had more within her—pulled some trigger you never thought she’d pull.
You were going to lose it all, why couldn’t she foresee that? That conversation was going to rip your inheritance straight from your tight grip; the one that ensured your future vacations. How could she ever betray you? Her own daughter? 
You were acquisitive. You were possessive. You were partially responsible for her death.
But call it naiveness, you really thought it’d work.
No one will truly know the way your soul left your body when you heard you wouldn’t get a single dollar. Not even a fucking cent. You had to find some other way to stay secure.
But Carlos was out to get you, you just know he was. You don’t have a clue as to how he found out about the truth, about what happened inside that stupid mansion, but he knew it all. And you had to get out of there.
Only it led you back to square one. With no purpose. With no money. Fuck men and their actions, seriously, too all hell with them.
However, you were your mothers daughter at the end of the day.
You could be a writer. An even better one that she could've ever been. If you wanted to, you could do it. 
And that is exactly what you did.
You typed, and typed, and typed until your fingers would cramp up. The multi-billionaire was a leviathan and everyone would see that no matter what. 
You, on the other hand, were an innocent bystander. Too weak to intervene, to fight back. Too young. Yeah. That was what happened that night.
But you also had your own perspective. One your mom could never match.
While she married for the illusion of love, you would’ve married for money with no shame. Carlos just happened to be the luckiest of strikes because you got both. 
While she always was at the front of the room without having to try, you were always in the back with a bitter smile. Why did she get to have two dimples? All eyes would have surely been on you if you had at least one. 
And while she never cared about reaching the New York Times Best Seller list—you did. 
She would have jumped with joy just by selling ten copies, but not you. You always wanted more—craved more. Label it as ambition. 
More copies sold means more money. A trust fund means more money. Playing the victim against your step-father means even more money. So yeah…
You did care about that stupid list. 
Tilting your head back against your seat, you flinch at the taste of the pill, too familiar for your liking, but the wine helps. It always does nowadays. 
Buzz. 
Picking up with a level of indifference was all fake—you had been yearning this call for what seemed like your whole life.
“Hey.” His voice is almost raw. Like he could use a couple cough drops. “I-I-I read your book. It was incredible.”
And for the first time in a while, you smile. “Thank you, that means a lot, Carlos.”
You can hear the static against the line, indicating once again that you’re on opposite sides of the world and not together. You can almost bet that it will always stay that way. 
The Spaniard coughs awkwardly into your ear.
“Oh, and also, congrats on making it onto the New York Times Best Seller.”
taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious
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daenysx · 2 months
Note
“just imagine having aemond as your boss. i would cry at every corner”
i need a ceo aemond fic immediately please love love love ur writing x
i think this could have an angsty theme but you know i'm not really capable of writing something like that :( i just used it as an opportunity to write about having a secret relationship with your boss modern!aemond who's nice only to you <3333
i hope you like it, your opinions matter a lot, i'll be waiting for your comments on this!!
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, nsfw. -wc; 2.4k
blurred boundaries
mr. targaryen has a pretty face. you can't look at him for more than 5 seconds.
he has this piercing gaze that makes you wanna curl up in your bed and scream into the pillow, the smirks he sometimes rewards you with have the same effect. you look at the bathroom mirror. you need some lip gloss.
the office is crowded today. physically it can't be too crowded because mr. targaryen hates when people stay more than they're needed. somehow everything got together today, too many calls have been made. your boss is getting more tense each minute, you can feel that much. he looks at people like they are only useless liabilities.
you try fix your hair, using two minutes of bathroom break. applying a fresh layer of your lip gloss to feel better, adjusting your skirt to stay straight on your waist. you leave the bathroom.
mr. targaryen calls for you. it's the fifth time today and it's not even noon. you step into his room. he's fuming like a restless dragon in front of the giant windows of his office.
"mr. targaryen?" you approach him slowly.
he lifts his head to see you. you're not sure what he wants, who he wants to be this time. are you supposed to say something more? the boundaries get blurry.
"come here." he says with a low voice. his left hand is extended to you. "come."
you've always admired his voice ever since you started working for him. he has a way of controlling it so well, when he wants to be sweet or when he wants to claim his authority. he never shouts unless he's over the edge, he can make people listen what he says without raising his voice. it's more attractive than it's supposed to be.
you take a few steps to close the distance.
"don't get shy on me now." he says, taking your hand. "no one will see."
"i just-" you don't know what to say. "you look upset."
aemond puts your hand on his chest to keep you there. the scent of his cologne surrounds you, you breathe him in. he holds his hand on yours, his free hand reaches for your waist.
"i can't stand people's idiocity." he tells you, his neck bent like a dragon searching for a bond. "i don't want to see any more of them."
"you don't have to." you say, coming closer to him boldly. "you're the boss."
he gives you a smile and that's the end of it. it's his fault, he started it. you're definitely not responsible for-
"you can't kiss me here." he reminds you. he's insufferable.
you take a step back. if he doesn't want a kiss that's fine. you're not the one who's restless and unable to calm down because of some customers.
"you should let me go then." you say. "i have things to do."
"is that so?" he devilishly smirks. "i thought you said i'm the boss."
"so what?"
"so the boss wants you to stay here." he answers. "and you will stay here."
"mr. targaryen-"
"don't get upset with me, sweetheart." he says. "we're in the office."
you huff quietly. he's messing with your head, he always does that. he makes a move and when you give him an answer he says you can't. you wanna scream, you wanna punch him. you wanna kiss him.
"fine." you say. "anything i can do for you then, sir?"
aemond squeezes your fingers. you know it's a weakness, calling him sir or by his last name. you know it makes him lightheaded, his breath hitched. you want him to suffer in a way just like he makes you suffer.
"you want to play with me, is that it?"
"i have no intention to do anything." you say. "you know, this conversation could go so well if you could let me give you one kiss. you're calling me here, get me so close to you, and when i want to kiss, you-"
aemond pulls you to himself to shut you up. his lips move against yours, curving so sweetly. you suck his bottom lip, close your eyes with your hand on his waist. the distance between you disappears, aemond parts his lips to deepen the kiss. you let out a shaky breath.
"no-" you say when he separates his lips from yours. "please."
he kisses you again, cupping the back of your head to angle your face. it's a nice kiss. you like his kisses in the middle of the day, a beneficial motivation to keep working.
"good?" he asks, cheekily. "i kiss you and you go back to being my good girl, is that it?"
"you can't say that when we're working."
"are we working right now?"
"fine." you huff. "when we're in your office."
"you look so pretty in that skirt." he says suddenly. "and um- i ruined your lips."
you cover your lips. you forgot you applied lip gloss, and aemond takes pride in making a mess as he always does. he kisses your cheek, taking your hand off your mouth.
"can i see you tonight?" he asks. "after this dreadful day ends?"
you nod. "if i can finish on time." you say, thinking all the mails you need to answer. "you know, you're not the only person i'm responsible to."
"do you hear what you're saying?" he says, kissing the soft skin below your ear. "you can't get mad at me for calling you my good girl when that's exactly what you are."
"aemond-"
a knock on his door interrupts your words. aemond leaves you, his thumb quickly fixing the lip gloss stain on your cheek. you step back as he kisses your knuckles for one last time. "after everyone leaves. meet me here."
he calls out for the person outside, you leave the room with confident steps. no one can know anything. you need to go to the bathroom again to fix your appearance.
during the day you can hear aemond's stern voice, your table is close to his door. you try to pay attention to work as much as you can, it's hard sometimes having him so close but not being able to be next to him all day. you still need to focus, though, you can't not keep your job just to have him.
it's not really an affair, what you have with aemond. you aren't sure if you can call him your boyfriend now, it's been more than a month since he first made a move. you're his lover, that much is clear. he wants to see you in his apartment, spend his free minutes with you in his office. he tries so hard to keep his hands to himself to stay secret for your reputations. you're not so different.
the hours pass by. your co-workers start leaving their spots. aemond is still in his room, he didn't come out, not even for lunch. you know he's even more tense than he was when you were in his room. you wait patiently until the last person leaves the office.
you knock on his door, his voice comes out exhausted. "can i lock the door?" you ask. he nods. just in case no matter what time it is.
you approach him, he turns his chair to get you to his lap. you settle down on his thighs gently, he pulls you to lean on his chest. "you had so much to do today, hmm?" he asks. it's his soft tone, the one he uses when he's sick of his company and his job, when he only wants to take care of you. "you look tired."
"you should see yourself." you say. his chest moves with a quiet laugh.
he rubs a big hand on your back. "are you hungry?" he asks. you shake your head.
"you should be hungry. you didn't have anything for lunch." you say.
"i'm hungry." he whispers against your lips. "i've been starved all day."
"aemond-"
"the day exhausted me, sweetheart. my head's pounding with their stupid voices, all complaining, all talking out of their asses. i don't have the energy to play games with you now."
you feel a gentle rush of wave on your chest. he has a lot of responsibilities, needs a get away from them. you're the same in a way. running your fingers through his long hair, you watch him closing his eye. his lips part when your fingertips rub his scalp.
giving him a small kiss first, you angle his head the way you need. he kisses you back, hands on your waist to keep you steady. his fingers play with your skirt, your hands get lost in his hair to keep him pressed against you.
just when he moves to kiss your neck, you breathe in his name. no one would believe aemond targaryen to be a gentle man in bed, you think. people are terrified of him most of the time, he looks dangerous and intimidating. he wants to be feared and respected, he's both. he's also a nice man when he wants to be, with you.
"maybe we should leave." you say, his lips on the curve of your neck. "your apartment- oh!"
his teeth make a mark on your skin, you are pulled against him without meaning to. he kisses the mark, lips soothing the ache.
"we can leave." he says. "after i make you come on that couch."
"aemond-" you start protesting but he takes you in his arms, leaving his chair to get you on the couch in his office.
"i need it." he says, sternly. "you're not gonna keep your voice down, you hear me? i'll hear everything i do to you."
you nod. he parts your thighs to settle down between them.
"words." he demands.
"i won't keep quiet." you say, laying down properly.
"good." aemond says. he kisses your knee.
pulling your panties aside, not bothering to take them off, he takes in the sight of your cunt. you try to take calm breaths but it's hard when he's looking at you like a starved man. you adjust your hips to get his hands on you.
"already getting wet for me." he whispers.
"you- you neglected me." you say, voice shaking. "for the past week."
"i suppose i did." he says, putting his fingers on your cunt. "i guess i should apologise properly."
he kisses your inner thigh before moving his fingers slowly to open your cunt for him. he teases your entrance, a thumb on your poor clit. he starts giving you a few gentle rubs on the nub, you moan his name when he presses a bit harder. "mm-hmm." you hum, satisfied. "please."
he puts a finger inside slowly, trying to increase your wetness. you move against him, clenching once around his long finger. "what's that?" he asks, his cock getting hard against his suit pants. "not enough for you?"
you clench involuntarily again, his thumb presses insistently. "no." he says. "i guess not."
another finger inside, you get wetter each second. he numbs your brain, your mind shutting off slowly. he moves his fingers in you with a perfect pace, searching, searching.
you make a louder noise when he hits it. he's the devil.
"there it is." he says, lips curled in satisfaction. "i know you like the back of my hand."
"you should-" you start, thoughts linger in your mind. "you should do something then."
"i think," he says, stops moving his hand. "you have forgotten your manners. you should be nice if you want something."
"aemond." you whisper, your eyes are closed. your breathing quickens, you are so close. "please. please. i need you back."
he puts his hand where it belongs but he's slower this time. "don't rush." he says. "we have time."
"i just-" you're so close to your tears, or your orgasm. you have no control over your body. "please."
aemond is throughly satisfied. he keeps his pace quick and hard on you, fucking his fingers into you with a rough thumb on your clit. you move against him deliciously, he rubs his desperate cock on your thigh. he gets faster, hitting your sweet spots all at once. it's hard to believe he was only your boss weeks ago.
you hold onto his free wrist as you come. you're whining, pressing yourself to him, nails digging into his skin. his name falls from your lips, he watches the liquid coating his fingers with a fascinated expression.
he's still hard against your leg but he doesn't care about it. not when you're almost passing out on him, not when you look so soft. he's taking pride in giving you what you want, what you need. you sigh in content.
aemond pulls your hair back to see your face. you give him a smile. "can i-" you reach for his hardness. he stops your hand halfway.
"not here, sweetheart." he says. "we can leave when you feel better. i'm gonna take care of you at home, okay?"
you hum, try to get your strength back on your bones. you stretch like a cat, a bit sleepy under his gaze. you manage to sit, even give him a kiss on his neck. he's free of his tie, a few buttons of his shirt are open. a faint lip gloss stain remains on his skin after your kiss.
"we can leave." you say. "let me get my things."
he nods, standing up to get his car keys and his phone. you unlock the door to go get your stuff, your legs are still shaking. the wetness is uncomfortable just a bit but you think you'll be okay until you get to aemond's apartment.
he comes to your side. "i'm ready." you say to him. he nods.
you don't know what he's waiting for. he looks like he's unsure of something. "something wrong?" you ask.
"no, no." he says quickly, shaking his head. "i was just- thinking of holding your hand."
you laugh, giving him the most precious smile he got from someone. you never know when but sometimes he acts so sweetly, you wanna keep him in your bed forever. he's so different from the man he is during the day.
"i'm glad you find it funny." he snorts. "come on."
"i'm not mocking you." you say. "it's just- you know no one would believe me if i say aemond targaryen is shy when he's asking to hold my hand."
"thank god, i'm not trying to convince anyone with my affections towards you then." he says with that charming tone. fuck him, he knows what he's doing. "can i please hold your hand now?"
"of course." you say, giving him your hand. he doesn't let go until he gets you in his car.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months
Note
hello bunny! I love the concept of your bakery it’s literally so cool
do you think I could get chocolate cake & honey cruller with a side of espresso shot?!? with carlos sainz? tyy!
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? then hit up the bakery! we're always open! and thank you to this anon for a great suggestion! a little bit of size kink and some dirty talk, now that's what i'm talking about! i hope you enjoy the fic!
chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, dirty talking, (slight) size kink, thigh fucking, sick fic
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there was something about how vulnerable you looked when you ha d a cold. you poor thing, sick within the first week of summer break! how unfair! but, carlos wasn't going to shy away from his lover at her weakest.
so he followed you like a shadow most of the day in the house you shared. if you wanted to move from the bedroom to the living room, he'd grab your blankets and bring them to the couch. if you wanted to go to the kitchen to get some ginger tea, he was right behind you, making sure that you didn't have any problems.
he let you rest against him, or prop your feet up on his lap. and while he was being the perfect boyfriend, something deep was clawing inside of him. the sight of you so reliant on him, made his cock stir.
carlos wanted to fuck that sweet pussy of yours. it had been on his mind since he came home and found you bundled up on the couch. you had swapped from wearing his t-shirts to just a sports bra because the heat of the sickness was making you uncomfortable.
so very clearly he could see the lines of your body. the softness in your stomach and your cute breasts were on full display. he wanted to sink his teeth into you. it was painful for him.
it all came to a head when you were curled up in bed with him. he was on his phone. you shifted a little and made a small moaning noise. it struck a cord with him as you peeked out of the blankets.
"are you okay, mi amor?" he asked. as he looked down at you, trying to ignore the erection in his sweatpants.
you nodded, "yeah, you're looking a little flushed, honey." you reached out from your blanket nest and went to touch his face gently, "are you getting sick too?"
"no, no." he said, "i'm not sick. i just want to fuck you, mi amor." he admitted, "i know you're sick, but i want to feel you." he brushed hair out of your face. he knew that he couldn't keep secrets from you, it was impossible. he remembered the time that he had to keep your surprise party a secret and he felt like he was going to die.
you blinked up at him from your nest of blankets, you said, "i don't know if i can take it inside me right now."
he pulled the blankets away from the lower half of your face and said, "you don't have to do anything, beautiful. just lie there and i'll use your thighs. but, i need your permission." he rubbed your cheek, it felt warmed under his touch.
carlos was a sucker for consent, he was the type to think that the more consent the better. so even if he wanted it badly, he would stop himself if you said no.
you pulled the blankets from your body, exposing your almost bare chest and barely covered bottoms. your hair was a mess and you looked obviously sick. carlos wanted to bite his fist to keep himself together.
you looked at him before you coughed a little, "you can carlos." you said with a smile, "you didn't have to ask."
he took you by the face and kissed you on the nose, "no, no. i gotta ask, i need to know how sick you are. i never want to force myself onto you."
you smiled a little, "then feel free to use my thighs, carlos. i trust you. okay? i love you."
"i love you too." he said softly as he put you onto your stomach with your hips up. as much as he'd love to sink his cock into your pussy at the angle you were in, he had to be careful of you for now.
he got his cock out of his sweatpants, and then got your naked. in all fairness the lack of clothes felt nice on your hot body. he used his spit to lube up his cock before he spread your thighs a little with his to slip his cock between your soft flesh.
he felt a shudder run through him, "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day." you had been on his mind since he woke up, after he got you some medicine for your cold, he had thought about you neediness. it made him so painfully turned on.
you whined into the pillows as your back arched a little bit. you wanted him, but knew that it would all take too much out of you. you were supposed to be overcoming the cold, as badly as you wanted to be fucked by your loving boyfriend.
carlos loved he feeling of your soft thighs around his cock. not the most ideal position, but he'd take what he could get. he wanted to feel close to his precious girlfriend. he could feel the tingle of heat in his body as he moved against you.
you laid under him so pretty, your cute little moans between sneezes and coughs. it was so painfully cute. it was cute in a way that made carlos swear he saw stars as his achy cock leaked pre cum all over your soft thighs.
"i forget how small you are sometimes." he admitted, "you're so tiny compared to me. no wonder you need my help when you're sick. it just ravages you. need your big strong boyfriend to protect you, my love." he groaned as he continued to move.
you held onto the covers and let out a hearty cough before carlos leaned over you and kissed you on your flushed cheek. you croaked, "thank you, honey."
"of course, of course. you take such good care of me. i might as well take good care of you too. do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe."
you felt his love and moaned under his touch. you promised yourself when you were feeling less achy and sick, you'd get your own orgasm too. you knew that carlos would make sure that he got a few dozen out of you.
your thighs were so cute, so sweet around his cock. it was different than having regular sex with you. but it curbed an ache in his gut.
"shit, mi amor. that's it. your thighs feel so good." he panted as he moved against you. his hands still on your hips as he rubbed against your thighs. he knew he was getting close and picked up the pace to reach his climax.
his pre-cum was already making a huge mess on your body as he dragged his cock up against you. he panted how much he loved you until he felt the climax fully over take him. with a few heavy thrusts, he finished between your thighs.
"ah. carlos." you whimpered.
"i know, i know." he groaned as he got himself over that hill. cum spurted out all over your skin. he slowed down, his cum was stuck to your stomach and pussy. he pulled out and you got onto your stomach so it didn't even up all over the covers. even though a lot of it was dripped onto the sheets.
he got up and grabbed a towel to wipe you down. he admired your naked body and the steady rise and fall of your chest. his hands then grazed your soft skin and he went in to kiss you on the lips.
"how was that?" you asked.
he nodded, "perfect. god, you're so perfect. mi ángel. my little sick angel." he kissed you once more. he got his cock back into his sweatpants before he pressed his weight on top of you. his strong arms around you.
eventually it turned into spooning and his legs tangled up in yours. as he held you, he winced when you coughed violently. he kissed you on the neck and whispered a promise, "i'll take care of you, my love. anything you need, is yours."
you replied, feeling sleepy again, "i believe you, you've already done so much for me." you yawned and turned over in his arms to press your face into his chest.
he chuckled, "i only try to match what you do for me. now get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kissed you once more, as a promise. you take care of him and he takes care of you, no matter what. <3
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number1jeonginstan · 3 months
Text
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A/N: I did my own thing with regard to this request as well as tried a different style of writing. I wanted to implement him being sweet and gentle as he stalked you. But idk if I really did that. This was fun to write though, and my requests are once again open so please send me something. I hope y'all enjoy it so please don't be shy and comment or reblog with your opinions because I would love to hear them - ju <3
wc: 9k (what if I told y'all I wrote this all in less than one day with sleep.)
pairing:morethankinda stalker!Felix x afab!reader
DNI if you are uncomfortable with reader giving in kind of easily. This is meant to be a stalker fic, so if you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact. I made this more dubcon because reader does give her consent, but I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable!
warnings: porn WITH a plot (like 2.5k words of smut...), kinda Stockholm syndrome, oral!fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, panty sniffing, edging, idk what else!
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“Who orders pineapple juice at a coffee shop?” you giggled looking at Felix as he started making an ice americano for the next customer in line. 
"Someone who doesn't want caffeine and enjoys the taste of tropical fruit, I guess." 
"Or a weirdo!" you giggled before calling out the drink for Christopher.
He chuckled along with you, enjoying the banter. His eyes watched you closely as you called out the drink, taking in every detail of your movements.
"Hey, weird can be good sometimes. Adds some spice to life, right?"
"Yeah, as long as they aren't creepy. My best friend's ex used to follow her after they broke up, even texting her from new phone numbers" You frowned before working on your next drink. 
He nodded, a frown of feigned concern on his face. 
In truth, he found himself growing more fascinated with you the more you talked. He only applied for the job to get closer to you.
The first time Felix came into “The View” he saw you smiling ever so brightly, giving this little girl a free cup of hot chocolate. From that moment on, he knew he had to get to know you, no matter the cost. 
He bribed the hiring manager with a batch of his homemade brownies. In exchange for a job, he had to make at least one batch a day. He didn’t mind working overtime, as long as he was close to you. 
He snapped out of his thoughts, finally responding to you. "That's horrible. No one deserves to be stalked like that. I hope she's doing better now."
"She is, she was really straight with him after the second time, and he stopped which is good, but sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. I don’t know how to explain it, but especially when my shift ends whenever we are working together. Maybe it's just in my head" you sighed before calling out for the next customer.
He tried to act nonchalant, but his mind was racing. Was he that obvious? Was he being too creepy? 
"I hope it's just in your head," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixated on you as you called out to the next customer, trying to look away before you noticed him practically staring.
"Yeah, me too. Who knows, maybe I'm just being delusional," you sighed, too caught up in your own world, thinking about the late-night fear of constantly being watched. You were so distracted that you didn't even realize you had almost gripped the machine's steam frother with your bare hand.
His eyes widened as he noticed your hand grasping for the frother without a cloth. He quickly reached out to stop you, grabbing your hand gently but firmly, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Hey, watch out, you'll burn yourself!"
"Oh shit, thanks Lixie, I don’t know what I would do without you" you muttered, snapping yourself out of it and getting back to the drink at hand. 
He held onto your hand for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin. He reluctantly let go and smiled at you, trying to act casual. "Lixie," the nickname rolled off your tongue, making his heart flutter. "No problem, just don't want you hurting yourself, you know?"
"I got it, I was just too in my head. I wish there was someone I could walk home with so I would no longer feel so terrified" you sighed, making sure there were no other orders to be completed before ranting away to Felix.
His heart skipped a beat as you confessed your desire to have someone walk you home. He saw his chance and took it. He pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating something before speaking. 
"You know, I don't mind walking you home after our shift ends. If it makes you feel safer."
"You would do that for me?" you asked excitedly, thankful for him. 
He nodded quickly, his smile growing wider. He had to control himself not to seem too eager. This is his chance to be closer to you. 
"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's the least I can do. I don't want you to be scared walking home alone at night."
"Thank you so much Lixie!" you grinned, watching the way he reciprocated your smile. His freckles shine extra bright.
He chuckled softly as you thanked him, his heart-warming as you called him “Lixie”. He found himself smiling more than usual, enjoying the way the nickname sounded coming from your lips.
"No problem, really. It’ll be nice to have some company on the walk home too”.
"I hope it's not out of your way though, I don't even know where you live" you pouted, unsure if letting him walk you home would cause him too much trouble.
He chuckled, seeing your pout and finding it adorable. He reassured you with a wave of his hand. 
"Don't worry about it, it's not out of my way at all. And if it was, I wouldn't mind." 
In truth, he was willing to walk the extra mile (literally) to be able to spend a few more moments with you.
"Are you a hundred percent sure?" too scared that you were inconveniencing him due to your paranoia. 
He nodded, his expression gentle and sincere as he looked into your eyes.
 "I'm absolutely sure. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I want you to feel safe, and if walking you home is what it takes, then I'm more than happy to do so."
He smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt about his actual motives, but pushing it away. All that mattered to him was being close to you. He took another glance at his watch, noticing that it was almost time to clock out. 
"Actually, our shift is almost done. Ready to head out?"
"We have to make a batch of brownies first though?"  
You looked at him a bit puzzled, not understanding that it was his eagerness that was causing him to forget all about his obligation.  You just chalked it off to him always being a bit forgetful since you became friends with him.
It was a common occurrence, whether it be forgetting to add mocha to a drink or a whole batch of cookies in the oven, Felix always seemed to be just a tad distracted. 
He mentally slapped himself for being so caught up in the moment that he forgot about the brownies. He tried to play it cool. "Right right, I almost forgot about that." 
He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We do that first, then close shop."
"Let's get to it then!" you giggled, walking to the front and locking it, turning over the kitten 'Open!' sign that your manager Lee Know had bought before rushing back towards him following him into the cafe's kitchen. 
He followed you into the kitchen, his heart fluttering as he listened to your giggles. Once in the kitchen, he quickly gathered the ingredients for the brownies, setting them on the workbench. 
"Okay, I'll start getting everything measured. Can you preheat the oven?"
“You got it Lix!” you replied back, quickly preheating the oven to 350. 
He smiled at your reply, feeling more and more relaxed in your presence. As he started measuring out the ingredients, he occasionally glanced at you, watching as you preheated the oven. He found himself mesmerized by your every little movement.
"Isn't that too much chocolate Lix?" you asked looking at the bowl that he usually double-broiled the chocolate in.
He glanced down at the bowl, realizing he had indeed put in almost too much chocolate. 
"Oh, right... maybe I got a bit carried away there." He chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as he began to measure out a more appropriate amount of chocolate.
"I mean you can never have too much chocolate!" you grinned before eating the excess piece he had taken out, popping it into your mouth. 
He couldn't help but laugh when you ate the excess piece of chocolate, finding your antics adorable. His eyes lingered on your lips as you popped it into your mouth, silently wishing he could be the one feeding you the chocolate.
"You're right, but we still need some chocolate left for the brownies," he joked, his smile widening.
With a playful nudge, he continued measuring the correct amount of chocolate, his gaze flicking back to you. 
"But hey, maybe I could save a few extra pieces for us for some late-night chocolate indulgence, just between you and me."
"I like the way you think Lee Felix" 
You fed him a piece whilst taking another one for yourself, savoring the sweet taste of Hershey’s chocolate. Since you’ve begun helping him bake his brownies, he’s always been adamant about only using Hershey.
His heart skipped a beat as you fed him the piece of chocolate, the sweetness of it almost as sweet as the feeling of your touch. He felt a warm rush of pleasure run through him as he took the chocolate from your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"I do have some good ideas every now and then," he replied, his voice soft and a hint of a cheeky smile playing on his lips.
You continued to help Felix with both the measuring and mixing, not trusting the stand mixer seeing as you didn't want to incorporate too much gluten into the brownies themselves. The two of you laughed away as you finished mixing and pouring the batter into their respective pans.
After the two of you finished pouring the batter into the pans and setting them in the oven, Felix couldn't help but stare at you as you both laughed together about past customers, especially the one who tried to jump over the counter to steal Lix’s brownie recipe.
 The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears, and his heart ached with a desire to keep making you laugh like this every day.
"I have to say," he said, his voice slightly hesitant, "making these brownies is always more enjoyable when you're here. You make everything better."
"Wow thanks, Lix, you are always so sweet" You pinched his cheeks admiring how squishy they were. 
Felix chuckled at your gesture, feeling his cheeks heat up underneath your pinch. He couldn't help but notice how close you were to him, your touches sending small jolts of electricity through his body.
He then looked away, pretending to busy himself by cleaning up the workstation, his heart still racing from your touch. In reality, all he wanted to do was pull you closer and just hold you, but he knew he had to control himself.
“Let me help you!” 
You didn’t want him to do everything himself, especially after he was the one who offered to walk you home, it was the least you could do. 
He was touched by your eagerness to help, his heart melting at your thoughtfulness. He wanted to tell you that he didn't mind doing it himself, but the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at your determined expression. Instead, he simply gave you a small smile. 
"Alright, if you insist," he said, handing you a cloth to wipe down the counter.
It was a sight he was used to. Every night after the two of you closed shop, you bid him a quick farewell, and he would follow you home. He was always 20 steps behind, his hood covering his face just in case. 
Unbeknownst to you, he would watch you through your kitchen window. His eyes fixated on your every move. He knew so many of your habits by now, like the way you used utensils to sing along to whatever was playing in your headphones. Or the way you always drank green tea instead of coffee, letting it steep in your owl mug. He would watch you for hours, no matter the weather, just to get the smallest peak into your life. 
He had become a little obsessed, in all honesty. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the view of you going about your day, his heart and mind fully fixated on you. Every time he peered into your kitchen window, he felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 
The guilt, of course, came from the fact that he was practically stalking you, but the excitement came from the opportunity to see you again, even if it was from afar.
He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. The need to see you, to be near you was too strong to resist.
“Hey Lixie, I think we are pretty much done, are you ready to go?" you asked, pulling the brownies out of the oven directly putting saran wrap on them, and putting them in the fridge so they could get a thick crackle on them by the time Lee Know was supposed to come in and cut them for the morning rush. 
He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his mind in a daze. 
"Uh, right..." he said, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, we're all done. Let's go."
As he watched you put on your jacket, he couldn't help but take in your every movement, his heart rate increasing once again. He felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves as he realized he was actually going to walk you home, something he had been secretly dreaming of for weeks now.
“You ready to lock up?” you asked, your head cocking to the side as you jingled the keys in front of him, ushering him to leave the building. 
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Let's get going." 
He reached out and took the keys from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. It felt like an electric shock running through his body, and he instinctively pulled back, hoping you didn't notice the effect your touch had on him.
The two of you began walking side by side, the silence of the world around you causing you peace. You could no longer feel the lingering eyes that roamed your body as you had for the past few months. Instead, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked beside Felix. 
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He was just so aware of your presence, the subtle scent of your perfume, the way your shoulder occasionally brushed against his...it was driving him crazy. It was too silent for his liking so he urged to start a conversation with you, anything to break the tension. 
"Um, so...how's your day been?" he finally managed to ask, wincing inwardly at how lame it sounded.
"Lixie, we had the same day?" 
You chuckled at his antics, your own breath stable compared to his harsh breathing as he just blinked at you, unable to process what you had just said. 
"Hello? Earth to Lee Yongbok Felix, you alive in there?"
He blinked again, his brain finally catching up with what you had said. He chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. 
"Right...sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired." 
He mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He couldn't let on how much your presence affected him. He was supposed to act cool and casual like nothing was going on inside his head. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to do so with every step he took next to you.
"That's your apartment isn't it?" he asked pointing up to your building. The two of you were just a couple hundred feet away from it. 
"Yeah, it is, how did you know?" you asked, a confused look on your face.
You had never brought Felix to your apartment, in a matter of fact, the only people who knew where you lived were your parents, a couple of close friends, and Lee Know because it was on your resume. 
Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat. 
He had let slip that he knew where you lived without realizing it. He mentally cursed himself, trying to think of a quick explanation. He couldn't let you know he had been the one following you home every night. That would be creepy and completely ruin any chance he had with you. 
He swallowed hard, forcing a casual laugh. "Oh, uh...I just guessed. Lucky hunch, I guess."
Before you could even respond, the sky darkened and fat raindrops began to fall, drenching both of you. The chill soaked through your clothes, making you shiver. He stood there, stunned by the sudden downpour. Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against the cold rain. You tugged him urgently, splashing through puddles as you ran towards your apartment building. The sound of rain and hurried footsteps filled the air. Breathless, you pulled him inside, the warmth and dryness a welcome relief from the storm outside.
Felix felt a rush of adrenaline as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the building. The sudden rain had caught him off guard, but the feeling of your hand, warm and tight around his, sent a tingle down his spine.
 He quickly followed you inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, but being this close to you, holding your hand, was doing all sorts of things to him.
"Here why don't you come up to my apartment, I don't want you to get sick from this weather. You can dry off and we can eat something!" 
His heart leaped at your suggestion. The thought of being in your apartment, of being alone with you...it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. But he couldn't say no, not when you were being so kind to him. 
He nodded, trying not to let his eagerness show too much. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."
"I really don't mind. Come up and change into some dry clothes, okay? I'll order us something to eat. Are you okay with Thai food?" you asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator.
 Both of you were drenched, and a puddle began to form at your feet as you waited to reach your floor.
Felix nodded again, his thoughts racing as he watched the elevator numbers climb. He was going to be in your apartment, alone with you, it was like a dream come true. 
"Thai food sounds great," he managed to say, his voice slightly breathless. "I'll eat anything right now, I'm starving."
"I would hope so, you didn't eat anything our entire shift today" you pouted, trying to remember if he even had his daily shaken iced espresso with oat milk that he usually makes twice a shift.
He chuckled at your pout, his heart melting at how cute you looked. He also found it sweet that you kept track of if he had eaten or not. It was one of the many things about you that he loved. 
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I was so busy today that I kind of forgot to take a break."
 He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn't want to admit that he had been so distracted thinking about you that he hadn't even thought about eating.
"That's not good Lix, you shouldn't over-exert yourself" you scolded him while trying to find the keys to your apartment.
"I know, I know, I just had a lot on my mind today," he admitted, feeling a little guilty for not taking better care of himself.
You finally found your keys and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. "I'm going to shower real quick, and then you can go after me so you don't catch a cold, okay?"
He nodded, trying to keep his cool as he stepped into your apartment. His heart was racing again as he thought about you being naked and wet only a few feet away. 
He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just don't take too long, or I might get lonely and start raiding your fridge." He joked, trying to hide his inner thoughts.
He chuckled at the sight of the empty fridge, making a mental note to offer to take you grocery shopping sometime. He quickly took your phone from you, looking down at the already-opened delivery app with your part of the order placed. 
He watched as you headed towards the bathroom, a lump forming in his throat as he imagined you stripping down and stepping into the shower. The image was burned into his mind, and it took all his self-control to not follow you into the bathroom. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down at your phone, trying to distract himself. 
He glanced at the bathroom door, wondering how long you would be. He was trying not to be impatient, but his mind and body were both eagerly anticipating your return.
You stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you as you wrapped a towel around your damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down your neck and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and shorts, making them cling to your skin. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as you padded softly across the floor toward Felix. 
Felix's breath caught in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wearing thin, clinging clothes. The sight of you, still slightly wet and rosy from the shower, was almost too much for him to handle. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of damp skin, and his heart skipped several beats. 
He managed to tear his gaze away from you and tried to act casual, but he couldn't help the way his body reacted to your presence. He swallowed hard, trying to control the ache in his jeans.
"Hey, Lix," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warmth. "The bathroom is free, so please go ahead and shower. Just hand me your clothes so I can dry them for you, okay?"
"I also left an extra pair of clothes and a towel in the bathroom so it's easier for you"
He quickly stood up, trying to adjust his jeans again and hide his arousal. He picked up his wet clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. 
"Thanks," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I won't be too long." 
He entered the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and the growing tension in his body.
He slowly stripped off his damp clothes, tossing them towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at the pile of clothes, imagining you taking them off of your body. He quickly picked up your shirt, smelling your scent on it, and the thought made him shiver.
Felix's heart nearly stopped when he saw the pair of black lace panties lying on the floor. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, his heart rate immediately increasing. 
Before he could stop himself, he picked them up and brought them closer to his face, taking in the scent of your laundry detergent essence on the fabric.
His cock hardened at the thought of you wearing them, your pussy pressing and rubbing against them as the two of you worked the entire day. 
He let out a groan before slowly wrapping the fabric around his leaking cock. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you right? It’s not like he was purposely doing it, it was just right there for his convenience. 
He muffled his moans as he pumped his cock with your underwear, trying to be as quiet as possible as the water ran in the background. His only thought was you. 
You when you wore those cute little dresses. You. When you always bent over to get things from the fridge for him knowing how much his back ached. You. who helped him embrace his freckles. You, who was in this bathroom mere minutes before him, fully naked. 
With that he came with a groan, quickly hopping into the shower to ride out his high under the steaming hot water, cleaning your underwear of any evidence of infidelity while he was at it. 
He grabbed the soap and began to run it over his body, scrubbing away the layers of dirt and sweat, and the shame of him cumming on your pretty little panties, only further intoxicated him with your scent. 
He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you knocked on the door to the bathroom. 
"Felix?"
He heard your voice calling out to him, breaking the spell. He quickly threw the lace into his pile of clothes and turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.
"Yeah?" he called out, his voice a bit shaky. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, the food just here so I was wondering if you were finished washing up?"
He took a quick breath, trying to compose himself. 
"Yeah, I'm just about done. I'll be out in a minute." 
He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and water droplets running down his chest and arms. He tried to ignore the way your eyes lingered on his bare skin, pretending not to notice the slight flush that was creeping up your neck.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I forgot to leave clothes for you in the bathroom" you whispered, your cheeks reddened. 
You quickly handed them to him before scurrying out of your room.
Felix chuckled as you handed him the clothes, his heart warming at your flustered state. He found it endearing how shy you were about accidentally forgetting to leave him clothes to change into. He tried to ignore the way his body reacted to the sight of you blushing and flustered, his towel becoming uncomfortably tight for a brief moment.
He quickly dressed in the clothes you had given him, trying his best not to focus on the fact that they smelled like you. The baggy t-shirt was comfortable, but the way it clung to his damp skin and hair made him feel even more on edge.
He took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping back into the living room where you were setting down plates and chopsticks. 
"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, feigning nonchalance and hoping you wouldn't notice the small bulge in his sweatpants.
You held up the two takeout containers, "well I ordered drunken noodles, and I kind of forgot what you did. We can always share!"
Felix chuckled again, feeling relieved that you hadn't noticed his current...situation. He tried to keep his mind off the way your shirt dipped low enough to show off your collarbones, and the way your shorts rode up slightly on your thighs. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the food. 
"Sounds good to me," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving."
He walked over to the couch, sat down, and tried to keep his pose casual. He glanced over at you, noticing how your hair was still damp and your cheeks were still slightly pink. The sight made his heart rate speed up again, and he tried to distract himself by looking down at the food.
He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started digging into the noodles, trying to act like everything was normal. But as he watched you eat, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to dirty thoughts. He could see your lips wrapped around the utensils, the way your tongue would flick out to catch any stray noodle…
“You okay Lixie?” you asked, looking up at him as you ate more of your food. Your cheeks are slightly full causing him to choke on his own dish. 
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice a little strained. "Just...hungry, you know?"
A while passed like this, the silence of the room only occasionally broken up by small talk. The both of you were too infatuated in your food to even register what else was happening. 
"Do you want me to wash up your plate?" you asked, getting up from the cushion you were on.
Felix's eyes followed you as you got up, watching the way your shirt rode up even more, revealing more of your smooth, soft skin.
 He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning, his body responding even more to the sight of you moving around, so close and yet so out of reach. 
He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uh, yeah, sure," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse.
"So you aren't going to have your nightly cup of green tea" he asked as you began cleaning up your table and walking over to your kitchen. 
You looked at him startled, your eyes going wide. "How did you know about that?"
Felix chuckled, feeling a wave of affection for you wash over him. He knew you too well to not know about your obsession with green tea. 
"Let's just say I pay closer attention to your habits than you think," he said with a sly smile. "You have a cup of tea every night before bed, like clockwork. It's almost endearing how predictable you are."
"Felix, I've never had green tea at work, the only time I do is when I get home, how did you know what I drink before I go to bed" you asked, worry ridden on your face as you began to look around your kitchen for anything to protect you.
Felix's smile faded as he noticed the look of worry on your face, and he realized his poor choice of words.
"Hey, hey, calm down," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was just a guess, I swear. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's not just a guess" you screamed. That's when it clicked, he was the one who had been watching you every night. 
The only time you were followed was after your shift with him. He knew exactly what apartment you lived in. It wasn't just a "lucky guess" as he said. He knew everything.
Felix's heart dropped as he realized the extent of his slip-up. You had figured out that he had been watching you, and now you were scared and confused. 
"Listen, please...let me explain," he pleaded, standing up from the couch. "I can explain everything, just please give me a chance to speak."
"No, I don't want an explanation, I need you to get the fuck out" you screamed, curling into a corner in your kitchen, your body shook as you began to speak up again.
"Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends" you whined, tears streaming down your face.
Felix's heart broke as he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes. He took a step closer to you but stopped when you shrunk further into the corner, clearly terrified of him.
"I know, I know, but please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I just...I care about you. I care too much. And I thought...I thought I could prevent something bad from happening if I just kept an eye on you."
"How were you helping? You were the one who was causing everything" you continued to sob.
He wanted to deny your accusations, but he knew he couldn't. He had been the one stalking you, following you home every night and watching you from afar. 
He had justified it to himself, telling himself it was for your own good, but now that you knew the truth, he could see how creepy and wrong it was.
 He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, his voice quiet and shaky. "You're right. I was the one causing everything."
He took a tentative step closer to you but stopped again when he saw the look of fear flash in your eyes. 
"But I...I never meant to scare you," he said, his own eyes tearing up. 
"I just...I just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you, and I thought if I just kept a constant eye on you, I could prevent it."
"Protect me how!" you screamed, "why would you do this to me?" you continued to sob. 
"I just wanted to make you feel good sweetheart" he whispered, bending down to capture your face in his hand, brushing away your tears.
He brought down his lips towards your before kissing you, the taste of your tears infiltrating his mouth as you attempted to push him away.
He could feel you trying to push him away, but he just held on tighter, refusing to let you go. He knew he didn't deserve to kiss you, not after everything he had done, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to feel your lips on his, even if just for a moment.
"Please sweetheart, want to make you feel good. Won't you be a good baby and take it?" he grinned, watching the way your lips puffed out from him ever so slightly nibbling on it.  Your tears streaking your flushed red cheeks. You looked at him meekly before nodding, taking your hand in his, not understanding how he had such an effect on you.
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
“Such a good girl for me” he muttered into your lips. 
Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.
He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, pinning you against it with his body. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes, his own eyes darkened with a possessive lust. 
"You're mine, you know that right?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "You belong to me and only me."
You whined as he continued to caress your face. 
Felix chuckled again as you whined and leaned into his touch, the sound of your needy whines only fueling his desire for you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin,
"That's right, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm never letting go. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every second of it."
He nipped at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, feeling the soft skin of your back through your shirt.
"And if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in his wake.
"Lixie" you whined as he continued to nibble at your skin.
Felix chuckled at your whine, his heart fluttering at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He continued to kiss and bite at your skin, marking you as his, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 
“All needy and desperate," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."
You grasped his hand and led him to your room, your senses overwhelmed by his embrace, feeling his warmth as he held you close.
Felix followed you obediently, his grip on your hand tight as he allowed you to lead him into your room. His heart was racing with desire and excitement, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. 
"So obedient," he murmured, his voice filled with praise as he pressed up behind you once you reached the edge of your bed.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent as his hands roamed your body. 
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire.
"Really?" you asked, feeling his embrace tighten as he pressed closer. 
Felix hummed in response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he held you close. "Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping under your shirt to feel your soft skin. 
"For as long as I can remember, I've craved having you like this, all to myself. It's driving me insane with how badly I want you."
"Is that why you kept watching me?" you asked, turning around to face him, your hand clutching his face, tracing every freckle as he began to speak.
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and hoarse. "That's why. I couldn't resist the urge to watch you, to know every move you made, to make sure you were safe."
"I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep you close. I needed to feel like I had some control over your life, and watching you was the only way I could do that."
"That's not normal though Lixie"
"I know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I know it's not normal, and I'm sorry. But...but I just...I just couldn't stop myself. I care about you too much."
"Then show me, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek and trailing down to his soft, plump lips.
Felix's heart skipped a beat as you kissed his cheek and then his lips, your whine sending a shiver down his spine. He responded eagerly to your kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of your lips on his. But then he pulled away, a determined look in his eyes. 
"Sweetheart, I can show you, but first you have to promise me something," he said, his voice low and commanding.
"Anything" you whimpered, feeling yourself growing wetter at every passing moment that he wasn't next to you, his touch not being pressed against you
"Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that you belong to me and no one else," he whined as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to his face. 
"I promise" you whispered back before kissing him feverishly.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You’re all mine now, sweetheart."
Before you could even respond, he pushed you onto the bed, his body following soon after as he settled on top of you. His hands moved under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your stomach.
He began to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, stopping to bite and suck at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. 
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he murmured against your skin, his hands continuing to roam your body.
"How long Lixie?" you whimpered as he began to pull off your shirt. He took in the sight of your bare skin, biting his lip as he straddled you, his thighs shutting yours closed as he began to kiss up and down your neck. 
"So long" he murmured between kisses. "For years, I've been waiting for this. Wanting you, aching for you."
"Want you too" you whined as you pulled off his shirt, your hands roaming up and down his chiseled chest, watching the way his body clenched slightly as you ran your finger along his abs.
He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, his hands roaming your body once again.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, breaking the kiss for a moment before attacking you once again, your lips pressing against one another feverishly.
You gazed at him, noting his ragged breath. "Then show me," you whimpered as his hands began to caress your thighs.
"I'll show you just how much I desire you, just how much I need you."
He began to kiss and bite at your thighs, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. He wanted to make sure that you would remember this moment, that you would remember who you belonged to.
He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. "Every part of you is mine."
“Yours” you whimpered as he continued to abuse you everywhere but the one place you needed him. 
He loved how needy you were for him, your body begging for his touch. He moved his lips closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your skin.
Felix's eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement as he pulled off your shorts, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that you weren't wearing any panties. You were so wet it began to drip down to your thighs. 
"You're full of surprises, aren't you baby?" he said, his voice thick with desire. "And here I thought you were a good girl."
He slowly licked a stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste that he couldn’t quite get off your panties. 
“And you taste so good too, could eat you for hours” he moaned before diving back in, his fingers opening up your pretty little cunt for him, allowing him to nip at your clit. 
“Fuck Lix!” you whined above him, your hand finding his hair, intertwining your fingers between it, pushing him deeper into your pretty little pussy.  
He slowly removed his mouth from your cunt, your essence covering the bottom half of his face. “You are going to take what I give you or else you aren’t gonna get anything” he grinned before shoving himself back into you, letting his tongue flick out, swiping across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 
He continued to lick and taste you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as you writhed and whimpered beneath him. He loved the way you tasted. 
“So sweet baby, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he muttered into your poor cunt as he began to push his finger inside of you, stretching out your whole. 
“Lixie, it feels so good” you whined as he continued to lap at you, savoring each and every moan and whine that escaped your pretty little lips. 
He continued to tease you, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. He could feel how close you were, how your body trembled beneath him. 
"You want to come, don't you, my sweet girl?" he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "But I'm not going to let you. Not yet."
"Why!" you whined underneath him, bucking your hips up to get any sort of stimulation.
He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down with a firm grip, preventing you from bucking against him
"Because I want you to wait for me to fuck you, baby," he murmured, his mouth moving to the other thigh, leaving a trail of love bites in its wake. "I want you to be desperate for me, aching for me. I want to ruin you completely."
His tongue continued to tease you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth nipping at your skin as he went.
 "I want you to be so desperate for release that you'll do anything I ask," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And only when you truly beg for me will I finally give you my cock” he chuckled against your cunt. 
"Please Lixie, need you in me, can't do this anymore" you whined, your chest heaving and tears began to stream out of your eyes. He had been edging you for so long, pulling away as soon as he felt you were close to your high. His fingers that were previously thrusting in you stopped completely, his soaked face only rising to laugh at your pathetic face.
"Oh sweetheart, you're so cute when you beg," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I don't think you've earned it yet."
"Please, I've been such a good girl for you Lixie, please let me cum, or at least fuck me" you whimpered "I'll do anything, anything you ask me, just please let me cum" you whined, tears falling out faster as your entire body shook from the multiple orgasms that were ripped away from you ever so easily under his grasp.
Felix's eyes darkened at your words, his body responding to your desperate pleas. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and pathetic, begging for him to give you what you so desperately needed. He knew he had complete control over you, and he loved every second of it. 
"Anything, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You'll do anything I ask, no matter what?"
"Yes Lix, anything, just fuck me already!" you screamed.
He leaned down, his body pressing against yours as he spoke into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl, maybe I should give it to you” 
You simply nodded your head up and down as fast as you physically possible, showing you truly how eager you were for him. 
He laughed at how desperate you were for him, pulling down his boxers, allowing his extremely hard cock to slap his stomach, the tip red and angry already leaking pre-cum. 
It took all his might to not cum in his boxers at the taste of you. 
“Please Lixie, need your cock inside of me” you whined, spreading your legs open for him, allowing him to see how your hole pulsed at just the sight of him standing there, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. 
Felix's eyes darkened even more at your words, his breathing ragged with desire. He was losing control, his own need for you becoming almost too much to resist fucking you. 
He slowly bent down, positioning himself between your legs, his hands pinning your hips to the bed to keep you still. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and possessive.
With that, he pushed inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your hot tight cunt wrapping around his length.
You moaned underneath him, his body pressing against yours as you got used to his sheer size inside of you. 
He buried himself deep within you, filling you completely, his hands continuing to roam around your body. He needed to touch you, to make sure that his fantasy were real. 
He had spent nights jerking off to the thought of you begging for his cock, whimpering for him, and it took all his strength to cum right there and then at the sight of your eyes pressed together, your mouth hung open as he began to thrust inside of you. 
He began to move, his thrusts rough and desperate, his breathing ragged and shallow. He needed you, needed to possess you and claim you completely.
“Feels so good Lix”
You kept babbling at the feeling of him inside of you. The only thought on your mind was him. 
“Lix, Lix, Lix” you kept muttering, drool slowly escaping past your lips. 
"You're mine, sweetheart," he repeated, his voice low and rough in your ear. "No one else is ever going to make you feel this way again. Only me. You're mine."
“Only yours” you whimpered out. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He slowly pulled his hand down to where you needed him most, playing with your clit as he continued his brutal pace inside of you. 
"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."
He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks and bites as he continued his relentless pace, his breathing ragged and uneven.
"I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at your skin. " I'll make sure of that. You're mine, forever. No one else will ever know you the way I do. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I can."
His hands roamed your body as he continued to claim you, his lips and teeth marking your skin, his hips never ceasing in their relentless pace.
Every time you called out his name, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips, only served to drive him deeper into his primal need for you.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to see your face, to see the way you looked at him in this moment, completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he was giving you.
“Aren’t you a good girl for me?” he asked, slightly slapping your cheek to get a response
“Yes!” you screamed as he began to push your legs back, his cock pressing deeper inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time he rutted his hips inside of you. 
“Gonna cum” you moaned as he continued his brutal pace. 
“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he growled into your ear, chasing his own high. 
His hips continued to slam into you, his breathing ragged and wild. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get close enough. He needed you, needed to claim every part of you as his own.
Felix growled low in his throat as you screamed that you were close to cumming. The sound of your ecstasy only fueled his own need and desire for you. He wanted to bring you to the edge, to make you lose all control beneath him.
"Not yet," he growled in your ear. "You're not coming without me."
His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and biting their way down to your collarbone. His hips began to move faster, his breathing becoming more ragged as he continued to drive you towards the edge of ecstasy.
"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel it. I can feel how close you are for me. Your walls are clenching around me like a fucking vice, but you're not going to come yet, not until I say so." his pace is relentless and unceasing.
You continued to moan his name, like a fucking chant and he couldn't resist your desperate plea any longer. He could see how close you were to your release, how your body was tense and trembling beneath him. He loved seeing you so desperate for him.
"Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Let me hear you cry out my name."
“Felix!” you screamed one last time before letting go.
He continued to move his hips through your climax, his body trembling and shaking with the effort. His pace became more irregular and erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel himself nearing the edge, could feel the pressure building within him.
"Sweetheart," he gasped, his voice thick with need and desire. "I'm...I'm going to come. I can't hold on much longer."
“Come inside, please come inside of me” you whined, your body becoming more and more overstimulated as he continued to rut into you. It was easy to reach your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as Felix could feel his control slipping. His body was wracked with tremors and shivers as he neared his release. Your words only drove him closer to the edge, his body responding to your plea without hesitation.
"Yes," he gasped, his voice barely more than a guttural moan. 
His hips slammed into you with one final, rough thrust, his release crashing over him like a wave. He groaned your name, his arms wrapping around you tightly to keep you close as he lost himself in the ecstasy of his climax. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
“So baby, how about some green tea?” he giggled, pulling your body into him. 
“Just wanna stay like this” you whined as he kissed the top of your head, covering the two of you with the blanket.
"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "All mine. No one else gets to have you, no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to know you the way I do. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
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little-diable · 3 months
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A Broken Down Bike and Racing Hearts – Benny Cross (smut)
Well, I watched The Bikeriders yesterday, and I did warn y'all. I simply have to write for Benny (maybe also Johnny?). I haven't read any Benny fics yet, so this may have been done before. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Benny's bike breaks down right in front of the reader's house, who invites him in to stay the night while a thunderstorm rages outside.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, choking, slight possessiveness
Pairings: Benny Cross x fem!reader (2k words)
Contains no spoilers!
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Her eyes followed his every movement. It had only been a handful of minutes since he had broken down with his bike right in front of her house. No words had been shared between them so far. While he kept fumbling with different parts of his bike, she kept smoking her cigarettes, studying the handsome man with piercing eyes. 
She didn’t look away once, not as he seemed to give up on fixing his bike with a sigh, not as he placed a cigarette between his plush lips with his gaze set on (y/n). Something about him drew her in. Perhaps it was the cut that told a story of brotherhood, of family united by something thicker than blood. Perhaps it was simply the handsome face she wouldn’t mind seeing every now and then. Whatever it was, it urged her on to finally part her lips. 
“I doubt you’ll manage to leave this place tonight.” Her gaze flickered up to the dark sky, knowing that it’d start raining any minute now. The guy wordlessly followed her gaze while blowing out a thick blue cloud of smoke matching hers.
“Is that an invitation to stay at your place for the night?” His voice was raspy, perfectly matching the growing smirk finding its way to his lips. 
“Well, if there’s one thing I know about you bikers, it is that it’s better to have you as a friend than as an enemy. And who knows, maybe I’ll need your help one of these days too.” (Y/n) rose to her feet. She allowed herself to study him for a second or two before turning on her heel to make it back inside her house. The second she crossed the threshold, it began raining as if God himself were urging the stranger to follow her, knowing that this very match would endure all following obstacles. 
The sound of his boots meeting her wooden stairs left her smiling, forcing her to turn back to him as he softly closed the door behind himself. He stepped out of his boots, ran a hand through his golden locks, and let his eyes wander. 
“I’m (y/n).” She softly spoke her name while her feet carried her towards her open kitchen, reaching for two bottles of beer.
“Benny.” It was a simple reply–just his name–nothing more, and yet she didn’t need anything else. She reached the bottle out for him to take, trying to bite down the sharp intake of air wanting to leave her as their hands met. He was a stranger, nothing more than a pretty face, but the excitement his closeness pushed through her, left (y/n) wondering how this night may play out, knowing that she wasn’t one to shy away from an opportunity like this. 
“Are you hungry, Benny? You must have been on the road for a while.” Benny only nodded his head as he took another sip of his beer. He was unusually cautious for a biker–at least in comparison to those she had met before–but (y/n) didn’t mind his calm demeanour, grateful for the comforting feeling he emanated. 
“Do you live here alone?” He plopped down on her kitchen island, letting his feet dangle in the air while he watched her cook. The moment had something homey to it, a domestic atmosphere she hadn’t ever experienced before, torn from a broken home at an early age. Sometimes she had imagined a life like this, with a husband close to love her, to appreciate her like she had always craved. 
“I do. It’s just me around here.” The hum leaving him forced her gaze towards him, unable to bite down her smile at the way he studied her. He seemed to be just as fascinated with her, drawn to the woman who had invited a stranger into her house solemnly because she knew saying no to a biker could end badly for her. But Benny was different–that much she knew already. 
“Must get lonely.” Her tongue kissed her teeth at his comment, trying to hold back from dumping the confusing emotions she had always felt on him. It did get lonely from time to time. But there was no escaping this situation, at least not for now, and she had made her peace with it, grateful that she could live however she wanted to. 
“You get used to it. What about you? Who are you running away from?” The silence that followed her question grew thicker with every passing moment. She was patient, waiting for him to find the strength to speak while she finished cooking their food. The past years had taught her enough about trauma, stress, and fear to understand how much people struggled with whatever it was they were running away from. 
Whatever it was that Benny couldn’t speak of, she wouldn’t force him to let her in, not when she could offer him a safe space for a few hours at least. 
……
“I could take you on a ride as soon as it’s fixed.” Benny was sitting on her couch, feet placed on the small table, as he was nursing another beer. She was sitting close, feet placed in his lap, breaking through the layers that had turned them from strangers to somewhat friends already. 
It had taken Benny almost an hour to let her in, to tell her of the struggles he had faced, the people he was running from, and the fear he couldn’t shake, no matter how fast he was driving, close to bidding this life goodbye. She had listened to his every thought, keeping quiet while he rambled on, finding safety in her closeness. 
“Careful, Benny, you’d have to keep me around for that.” The grin she shot him left him laughing, head rolling back to give the raspy sound enough room to break through him. It was a beautiful sight, leaving her buzzing with heat flushing through her that begged her to move closer. 
Something was lingering between the two, binding them closer together while both waited for the right moment to cross the last line between them.
“Would that be so bad?” It was close to a whisper, rolling off his tongue while he turned his head back towards her. (Y/n) felt heat rise up her spine, whispering to her to give her darkest and deepest longings enough room as if she was drunk off her face, unable to hold back. Benny held a special kind of magic over her, an unfamiliar sensation she couldn’t pinpoint just yet. 
“I don’t think you’re one for keeping women around. And I don’t want to leave this place.” He shuffled around, placed his bottle down before leaning closer towards her. His bright eyes danced over her face while his ringed hand found her cheek, cupping it softly. Benny’s thumb ran over her parted lips, unable to hold back his groan as she sucked his digit into her mouth. 
And then everything happened all too quickly. One second he was staring down at her, and the next she was sitting on his lap, lips locked with his. It wasn’t a soft kiss; it was rough, urged on by their need to be touched, to feel some form of love they hadn’t experienced in months, perhaps even years. 
Trembling fingers worked on one another’s clothes, letting the fabrics drop on the ground while their mouths explored the places that hadn’t been touched in a while. Moans rumbled through them, filling her living room as the last piece of clothing found its way to the ground. 
(Y/n)’s heart was racing, pounding in her chest while Benny couldn’t help but marvel at her body; at every inch he was now fortunate enough to touch. His fingers felt cold against her heat as he pressed her back down on the couch, brushing through her folds to spread her arousal on her pulsing bundle. All while (y/n) tugged on his golden curls with her back arched off the couch and her toes curled in anticipation.
“You’re fucking beautiful, doll.” She barely picked up on his words, too far gone to focus on the praises Benny spoke. His fingers moved fast enough to make black dots appear in her vision, leaving her eyes to flutter while her orgasm crept closer and closer. He dipped his head down to suck marks into the soft skin of her chest, letting his teeth graze her skin to make her feel as if she was burning, set ablaze by his touch. 
“Benny,” she choked on his name. Her thighs were trembling, body aching for the relief he was about to push through her. She wanted to speak more words, wanted to tell him how good he was making her feel, but she didn’t manage to, interrupted by the loud moan clawing through her. 
She came with his name rolling off her tongue, spoken like a mantra she had learned by heart years ago. He kept moving his fingers, circling her pulsing bundle for a few more seconds before letting go. They held eye contact, staring at one another with growing smiles that were glued to their lips. The sound of thunder rang in their ears, followed by the heavily falling rain that rushed down her windows, adding even more intensity to the atmosphere lingering in the room. 
Benny didn’t speak a warning before he flipped her around, only to press her chest against the armrest of her couch. She heard him spit into his palm and heard the soft groan rumbling through him as he pumped his cock a few times before finally pushing into her from behind. Both groaned in unison at the way he pushed into her, spreading her walls around his twitching cock. 
“Feels so good, Benny, move, please.” He instantly gave in to her begging, pulling out of her only to push back in with more force. It didn’t take him long to find a comfortable rhythm, fast enough to leave her choking on gasps, slow enough to give the two enough time to savour every passing second. 
“You belong to me now, doll. I can’t let you go again.” (Y/n) didn’t properly understand what he meant by these words, too focused on the feeling of his hand finding her throat, pulling her into his chest. He tightened his grasp on her throat to hold on to her while he fucked them closer towards their high, knowing that they’d give in soon. 
“Tell me that you’re mine.” He murmured the words against the back of her neck, while he left yet another mark that wouldn’t fade for a while. She was trembling in his grasp, struggling to reply while he softly choked her, heightening her senses. “Speak, (y/n).”
“I’m yours, fuck, Benny, I’ll always be yours.” A satisfied hum left him at her words–a hum that gave her the final push to throw herself over the edge. She came again with a moan, with squeezed-together eyes and her teeth buried in her lower lip. Benny kept snapping his hips against her behind, chasing his own high with his moans vibrating on her skin. 
A deep “Fuck” left him as he came, pulling out of her just in time to paint her behind with his cum. Both were panting, holding onto the couch while they came down from their highs, unable to see through the hazy fog just yet. 
“I mean it, doll, we belong together now.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before he rose to his feet to disappear from her sight. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding, but no matter how confused she was, deep down she knew that she wouldn’t want to let go of him, following Benny wherever he’d take her.
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months
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Sex & Super Smash Bros. - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: Ethan finally makes a move on his best friend.
Contains: Oral - m and f receiving, p in v, a smidge of dirty talk, praise, and one ass slap lmao.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: When I first started writing this, I was OBSESSED with the song Sex & Super Smash Bros. by Kyle lmao.
So, I have a few other fics in the works atm(This one wasn't even the one I wanted to post first, but it's been half-finished for like, two months🙃). BUT I posted the other day that all of my requests disappeared, so if anyone has anything they wanted written that hasn't been yet, PLEASE let me know. I was saving all the ones I hadn't written until I got the inspiration for them.
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Ethan Landry was your best friend. Sometimes you’d go out to dinner by yourselves, or go see movies together, but they were never dates. Well, maybe they were. He always wanted to pay, and he’d walk you back to your apartment door every time, but there was never any affection aside from a hug.
You were so close that you even drug him into Victoria’s Secret during a mall trip because you noticed they were having a sale. He had to pretend the whole time that he wasn’t imagining you in the things you picked out, and good god why did you need the skimpiest panties and bras they had? He felt a little jealous as he wondered who you wanted to wear them for, but the truth is, you didn’t need to wear them for anyone. As long as you felt good in what was underneath your clothes, that’s all that mattered to you.
Ethan was always talking to Chad about you because he thought he had no game whatsoever to even stand a chance. He thought he was stuck in the friend zone, because you just felt so comfortable with him.
“You’re not in the friendzone,” Chad said, glancing over to his friend as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I think she’s into you.”
“Dude, I’m starting to wonder if she thinks I’m even interested in girls,” Ethan said, as Chad burst out in laughter. “I’m serious! What girl takes her straight best friend into Victoria’s secret?”
“She feels comfortable with you,” Chad said, trying to convince him that he’s just overthinking it. “That’s a good thing. You never know, maybe she wanted you to know what she wears underneath her clothes.”
“Do you think I should stop hanging out with her so much, and maybe she’ll see that I should be more than her best friend?”
“That’s a stupid idea. Just ask her out on a date.”
“You think I haven’t tried that? She still treats me like I’m just a friend,” Ethan sighed, thinking about all the ‘Dates’ he’s taken you on.
“You need to put moves on her. Like, show her that you want more. Start with something simple, like putting your arm around her or holding her hand. If she doesn’t pull away, she’s interested.”
“It’s just getting to that point…I get so nervous,” Ethan said, before he got an idea. “What if I invite her over to hang out? Maybe I won’t be as nervous if there aren’t a lot of people around if she rejects me.”
“Now that is a good idea,” Chad said, smiling in approval. “Just let me know when so I won’t walk in and interrupt.”
You never brought Ethan up to Tara because she always brought him up first. Like clockwork, the girl’s nights the two of you had consisted of face masks and a movie, then after, she’d always bring up your best friend.
“I think you should talk to Ethan,” Tara said, as you sighed and rolled your eyes. “What? You’re obviously in love with him.”
“That’s the thing…if it’s so obvious, he should’ve noticed. He’s not interested,” you said, as you brushed the topcoat over your nails you’d just painted.
“You know he’s a little shy. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t yet.”
“I think you’re a little delusional,” you joked, as she grabbed one of the gummy bears out of the bag she was snacking from and threw it at you. “Thanks,” you said, grabbing it off the bed beside you and popping it in your mouth.
“I’m not delusional. You hang out with him all the time, by yourself. You go on dates!”
“If they were dates, we would’ve slept together by now,” you said, as she started to smirk.
“Have you thought about sleeping with him?” she questioned, as you felt your cheeks start to heat up. She got her answer when you refused to look at her. “I knew it! He’s tall, too. You know what they say about tall guys.”
“Okay, we’re not talking about how big he is,” you said, shutting down the conversation as she giggled.
Ethan had asked you to come over to hang out many times before, but this time was different. He kept typing and deleting the message he was going to send you, before settling on ‘You want to come over and hang out after class today?’. He rolled his eyes at himself for not wanting to start with that in the first place.
You: Sure. I get out of class at 6. Is that okay?
Ethan: Yeah, I’ll order food so it’ll already be here. See you soon!
Once Ethan checked the time and saw that it was close to six, he felt his palms start to get a little sweaty. He was wondering if he had it in him to do the things that Chad suggested, because what if you weren’t okay with it? The last thing he wanted was for your friendship to come to a halt because he made you uncomfortable.
He heard his phone ding, and he shook his head once he read your ‘I’m here’ text.
“You know, knocking is a thing,” he said, once he’d opened the door for you.
“I know,” you said, smiling at him as you took in the aroma of Chinese food. “Oooh, that smells good.”
“I got your favorite,” he said, following you to the kitchen.
After you ate dinner, Ethan was trying to figure out the best way to make his move. He thought about watching a movie and putting his arm around you, but you had another idea in mind.
“Let’s play Super Smash,” you suggested, as he started to laugh. “What?”
“I win every time. Is that fun for you?”
“Well teach me how to play then,” you said, as he walked over to grab the controllers.
“I can’t show you how to play if I’m the one playing against you.”
“Play someone online. I’ll watch and learn all the tricks,” you said, as he shrugged.
“Okay.”
He noticed that you were trying to keep up with glancing at the tv and seeing what his hands were doing. He got an idea, his nerves kicking in as he turned to look at you.
“We could try something different,” he said, as you curiously looked at him. “Come here.” He spread his legs for you to sit between them as he got more comfortable on the couch. “Okay, just put your hands on mine and you’ll feel what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” you giggled, placing your hands on his. You felt him take a deep breath as your back rested against his chest.
Ethan didn’t know how he was keeping his composure in that moment, but he didn’t want it to be obvious that he was freaking out. Your hands felt so soft on top of his, and the way his arms were wrapped around you to play had his heart racing. You were trying so hard to pay attention to the buttons he was pressing and what happened when he did, but the only thing you could think about was how skillfully his fingers moved.
He was playing against someone that was really good, but Ethan started to press all these different buttons and won the game.
“I don’t know how you just won that,” you said, angling your head so you could look at him. He looked down at you and smiled.
“You helped me win.”
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, as you turned your head back to the tv. His mind was racing, thinking that was the perfect opportunity to try to kiss you, and he didn’t want to let the confidence he was building up slip through the cracks.
He placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head back to face him as he leaned down and placed his lips against yours. You were a little surprised at first, but quickly kissed him back. You felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, your mouth instinctively opening so he could deepen the kiss. You loved having his mouth on yours, but after a while your neck really started to hurt from the angle.
His eyes shot open once you pulled away, his lips pouty and swollen from the intensity of the kiss.
“Neck cramp,” you said, as he nodded and directed his attention back to the tv. You smirked at him as he got ready to start another round. “Oh, you’re done kissing me?”
“Not at all,” he said, tossing the controller on the coffee table before he pushed you back on the couch. He got settled between your legs, and placed one of his hands beside your head on the couch cushion before he leaned down to connect his lips to yours.
Your hands were in his curls as his tongue fought yours for dominance, your legs tightly wrapped around him to keep him close. He was trying to be in the moment and distract himself at the same time, because he knew he was going to get hard. Once your hips started to squirm, he groaned into the kiss, unable to fight it anymore.
“Okay,” he mumbled against your lips before he sat up. “I need a minute.” His eyes connected with yours that were glazed over in lust, your breathing still heavy from the kiss. You had a feeling that he was really starting to get into it, and you didn’t want to stop.
“We can do more than make out…if you want.”
That was all he needed to hear before he was back on top of you, your legs around his waist again as he started to grind himself against you. You were whimpering into the kiss every time you felt his hard cock brush against your pussy.
“You want to go to my room?” he asked, pulling away to read your face.
“Please.”
When Ethan asked you to hang out, you didn’t think it would lead to the two of you shedding your clothes, both so desperate for each other. Once he was in nothing but his boxers and you in your bra and panties, he recognized the set you were wearing from the day you went shopping.
“Fuuuck me,” he groaned, “I don’t know if I want to take these off you.”
You crawled up on his bed, his eyes still on you as you got comfortable.
“It’s cool. I’ll take them off,” you said, smirking at him as you reached around to unhook your bra. His breathing got even heavier the second he took in the newly exposed skin, but once you reached down to slide your panties off, he sighed in disbelief that his best friend was getting naked for him.
He got on top of his bed with you, but before he crawled on top to connect your lips again, he hesitated. You were wondering if you somehow read the situation wrong until he finally started to speak.
“Before we do this, I need to tell you how I feel,” he said, running one of his hands through his hair as his eyes refused to meet yours. He was nervous, which was more than obvious as you sat up and waited for him to tell you what he needed to tell you. “I’ve had feelings for you for so long…and I know you aren’t supposed to feel that way about your best friend, but I can’t help the way I feel. If you don’t feel the same, maybe we shouldn’t do this. I don’t want to get my heart broken because I’m thinking with my dick right now and tomorrow I’ll be sad that the girl I want more than anything doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Ethan,” you got out, before he started to speak again.
“If you don’t feel the same, it’ll suck, but I still think our friendship is more important than the feelings I have, and I hope things don’t have to change between us,” he rambled, as you giggled and grabbed his hand that was resting on his thigh.
“Are you done? Or can I say what I need to say now?” you said, your tone playful as a small smile formed on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I have feelings for you, too. I wouldn’t be naked in your bed right now if I didn’t.”
“Seriously?” he asked, a huge smile on his face at the confession. You nodded as you leaned in to connect your lips with his again.
You moved to straddle his lap, your mouth not leaving his as his hands roamed the areas of your body he could reach. The kiss got even more desperate as his hands moved to your ass, pulling you closer so your soaked pussy was resting against his hard cock that was straining in his boxers. He gasped at the feeling when you started to grind, both of you getting some of the friction you were craving.
Your lips moved to his neck, placing open mouthed kisses until you found his sweet spot and lightly sucked on it, the feeling making a small moan slip past his lips.
“Lay back, baby,” you mumbled against his neck as he did what he said, your body moving with his as he relaxed against his comforter.
You kissed down his chest, over his stomach, finally stopping once you made it to the waistband of his boxers. You smirked at him as you sat up a little, watching how quickly his chest was rising and falling, his eyes pleading for you to do more.
You watched his face as your hand reached up to palm him over his boxers, his mouth falling open at the feeling.
“Can I-“ was all you got out before Ethan whimpered “Please” not fully sure of what you were even going to ask, but he desperately needed more.
You giggled to yourself as your fingers hooked in the top of his boxers before you started to inch them down, his hips lifting a little once he noticed you were struggling to get them off.
You glanced down at his cock as you wrapped your hand around it, salivating at the drop of precum already leaking out of his tip before you looked up at him. Your hand moved up and down as his eyes darted between yours and your hand.
“Jesus Christ,” he rushed out as he looked at you, your hand moving a little quicker. “This feels better than I thought it would.”
“You’ve thought about this?” you teased, as he mumbled a ‘Mhm’. “Have you thought about my mouth, too?”
“All the fucking time,” he admitted without missing a beat.
You leaned your head down to lick away the drop of precum, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock before you inched him in your mouth. Ethan’s hand lazily rested on the back of your head as you took as much of him as you could, your hand moving up and down around what you couldn’t fit.
Ethan was trying so hard to keep quiet, hid bottom lip tightly held between his teeth as your head bobbed, but once you started to gag around him, he let out this strangled whimper. Hearing how good he was feeling only motivated you even more as you moved faster, your saliva dripping down his cock as you hollowed your cheeks.
“Fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he said, his praise going straight to your throbbing pussy.
His fingers tangled in your hair, the gentle tugs making you moan around him. His breathing got heavier, your name rolling off his tongue in a string of whines. You slid him out of your mouth a little to focus on his tip, your eyes looking deep into his hooded ones.
You knew he was getting close as your hand moved and twisted around him, his hips jerking at the feeling.
“Gonna cum,” he whimpered, the sound making you laugh a little as you sucked harder on his sensitive tip. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
He had his fists bawled up, one in his comforter, the other in your hair as you tasted the salty liquid coat the inside of your mouth. You stopped sucking and switched to gentle licks as you collected ever drop of cum on your tongue, before you swallowed and sat up to look at him.
Ethan’s cheeks were flush, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he came down from his high. He lazily smiled at you before he sat up and grabbed you, flipping you so your back was resting against his bed.
You giggled as his lips attached to your neck, a soft moan slipping out once he found your sweet spot. He sucked on it as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours. You whined as you felt his cock, already hard again for you, resting against your pussy.
“Ethan, I need you,” you said, as he chuckled and placed kisses along your collar bone.
“Patience, baby,” he said, the new pet name making your heart swell as he made his way down your chest.
He ran his tongue over one of your nipples a few times before he sucked it into his mouth, gasps slipping past your lips as you tried to stay still. He gave the other side the same attention, and as good as it felt, your pussy desperately needed attention.
It was like Ethan could read your mind, his fingertips gently moving up your thigh before they reached where you needed him.
“Fuck,” you whispered as his fingers made it to your clit.
He rubbed slow circles, and you were finally starting to feel a little bit of the relief you needed. Once he added more pressure and rubbed faster, your hips were arching off the bed, your moans getting louder as he kissed down your body.
He replaced his fingers with his tongue, flicking it across your sensitive bundle of nerves before he licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit. Your legs were tingling at that feeling alone, but once he sucked your clit into his mouth and slid two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, you were fighting to keep your legs open for him.
He held eye contact with you as he angled his fingers just right, your brain getting cloudy as he worked you closer to your orgasm.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, the sound quickly becoming his new favorite as your hand ran through his curls.
The pads of his fingers pressed harder against that spongy spot inside you, your eyes fluttering closed as the coil in the pit of your stomach got tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. Once he hummed with your clit in his mouth, you felt the familiar white-hot feeling spread across your body, your thighs closing in around his head as you cried out.
He slowed his fingers a little as his mouth kept working on your clit, until you pulled away from the slight overstimulation he was giving you.
He slid his fingers out and sat up to look at you, the smile on his face showing how proud of himself he was for making you feel that good.
“I didn’t think you’d be bad at that, but I didn’t expect it to be that good,” you said, as your heavy breathing slowed.
“Well, after the head you gave me, I couldn’t disappoint you,” he said, as he moved back up to the bed to cuddle.
He laid his head on your chest as your fingers lazily ran through his curls. He wanted more, but he didn’t want to ask for it. He just wanted to be close to you at that moment. But once you asked if he had a condom, he sat up and leaned over you, reaching into the nightstand beside his bed.
Ethan moved so he was in between your legs again, sitting on his knees as he opened the condom and rolled it on. You stared at his size, a little nervous that it would hurt because he was definitely above average, and your jaw was still a little sore from sucking it, but you took a deep breath to relax before he slid his tip inside of you.
He only made it a few inches before he groaned, the tightness making his head spin.
“Your pussy is pulling me in right now,” he said, “You want it that bad, baby?”
“Yes,” you moaned, as he inched the rest of his cock inside you.
You winced a little at the burning feeling of him stretching you out, a concerned look on his face as he stared at you.
“I’m okay,” you said, “You can move.”
“You sure?” he asked, as he leaned down so his chest was pressed against yours.
“Please fuck me,” you said, before you leaned up a little, connecting your mouth to his.
He slowly slid in and out of you as you made out with him, your hands running along his bare back. Everything felt so sensual and intimate, and you swore you could feel the love radiating off him.
As he pulled away from the kiss, he softly bit your bottom lip before he sat back up on his knees, the position making it easier for him to go faster. His hands were all over you, from your legs to your chest, every touch feeling like fire against your skin.
Your bottom lip was in between your teeth, your eyebrows furrowing as he hit that spot every single time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, a smirk playing on his lips as he thrusted faster.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Feels so good.”
“You like it when I fuck your tight little pussy?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “You’re taking it so well.”
Between his dirty talk and his praise, you felt your second orgasm of the night creeping up. Your hips were moving to meet his, your sounds getting louder as he kept his pace.
“I’m clo-“ was all you got out, before his hips slowed and he slid out of you. “Ethannn,” you whined, as he smiled and grabbed your hips to flip you over.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll make you cum,” he said, as he adjusted you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him.
He gave it a smack before he slid back inside of you, a loud moan flying out of your mouth as he went faster than he had before. You were a whimpering mess, your brain turning to mush as he hit your g-spot over and over again.
Your hand snaked underneath you to rub circles on your clit as his hands tightly held your hips, pulling you back to meet every deep thrust me was giving you.
Your orgasm was right on the edge again as you tried to turn your thoughts into words, finally begging “Please don’t stop.”
You heard him grunting behind you as he kept his pace, your eyes rolling back as your entire body started to tingle.
“Cum for me,” he said, as you whimpered his name, that feeling crashing into you so hard that you felt dizzy.
Your pussy was clenching his cock so hard that he moaned out, his hips stuttering as pulled your hips back to meet his even faster.
“Gonna cum,” he rushed out, giving you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stilled.
He stayed inside of you as he caught his breath, his hand running through his sweaty hair as he smiled. Your back was still arched, your hand lazily gripping the sheets. If it wasn’t for the sight in front of him, he would’ve thought this was just a figment of his imagination. He never expected you to feel the same for him, but he was so happy that you did.
He slid out, a soft whine slipping past your lips at the empty feeling before you relaxed your hips, your body flatly laid on top of his bed. He ran his hand over your back before he leaned down, placing kisses along your shoulders and spine.
“That was amazing, babe,” you said, as he smirked against you.
“I agree,” he said, smiling as he thought about it. “Do you want to go shower? I want to cuddle, but I’m so sweaty right now.”
“Sure,” you said, as he sat up and slid off the side of his bed, before he helped you get off it.
Your legs were a little wobbly like you were taking your first steps as Ethan held onto you. He cracked open his bedroom door, listening to see if he heard anyone else in the apartment. It was silent aside from the game music still coming from the tv, but Ethan wanted to be safe.
“Chad?” he yelled, and once he didn’t get a response, he led you to the bathroom.
You leaned against the counter as he got the water temperature just right, before he walked back over to you. He held onto you as you stepped over the side of the tub before he got in, a goofy smile on his lips as he stared at you.
“How long have you had these feelings for me?” he questioned, as he grabbed the bottle of his shampoo and body wash combo off the shower rack.
You giggled to yourself as he cocked his eyebrow at you.
“A while,” you said, as he started to massage the soap into his hair. “I didn’t think you were interested in me.”
“I’ve been interested in you since the day I met you,” he admitted, as he grabbed his loofah.
You took it from his hand and put some of the body wash on it before you lathered it up and ran it across his chest.
“Why didn’t you say something?” you asked, as you maneuvered around him to wash his back.
“You make me nervous,” he said, chuckling softly. “Not in a bad way, though. You give me butterflies. And there were so many nights after we’d go out that I wanted to try to kiss you, but I was scared you wouldn’t want me to.”
He turned around to face you, a sweet smile on his lips as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.
“I’m happy you did tonight.”
After Ethan washed your body like you did his, you got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself as Ethan wrapped his around his hips. You were so caught up in talking to each other when you walked out of the bathroom that you didn’t notice Chad walking down the hallway.
“Um,” he mumbled, as he turned around, his back facing you and Ethan as you both laughed. “I guess you told her how you feel?”
“Yep,” Ethan said, as Chad stood there, blocking the path you and Ethan needed to walk in to get back to his room. “Dude, are you going to stand there all night? I’m getting cold.”
“Sorry,” Chad said, as he stepped to the side for you and Ethan to pass him. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you responded, as you walked into Ethan’s room and closed the door behind you.
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