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mythicalmaven · 3 days

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Revealed Desires - Lando Norris

(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)

Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)

Masterlist This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately) ↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 8,9K ↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her. ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,

It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.

Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.

By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.

Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.

"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."

Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."

Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."

Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.

Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."

Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."

Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."

Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.

"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"

Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."

Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."

Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"

Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."

Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"

Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.

Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."

Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"

Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."

With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.

Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"

Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.

Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.

Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"

Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."

Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.

Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"

Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."

Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."

Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"

Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"

"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"

*The following day*

Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.

As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?

His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.

"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.

When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.

Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.

As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.

Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."

You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."

But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.

Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.

"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.

You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.

“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.

Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”

Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”

Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.

“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”

But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.

As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.

“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”

“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.

“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.

The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”

You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.

Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”

Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”

The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.

“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”

Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.

The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.

“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.

The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.

Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.

“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.

And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.

When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”

Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.

Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.

But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.

But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.

But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.

“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.

Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.

Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”

But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.

Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”

You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.

You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”

You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”

His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.

Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.

You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.

But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”

Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.

You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”

Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.

Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.

But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.

“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”

Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”

Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.

With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.

You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”

Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”

“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”

With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.

He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.

With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.

Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”

His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.

Masterlist | Promptlist (requests are still open)

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #formula 1 smut #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 2024 #mclaren f1

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pellucid-constellations · 2 days

Text

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?”

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?”

“Not particularly.”

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn.

The third sigh was your breaking point.

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.”

“Oh, well in that case—”

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily.

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?”

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.”

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind.

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…”

Mor trailed off.

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?”

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.”

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—”

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.”

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap.

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault.

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you.

But it was this.

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been.

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.”

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence.

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door.

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock.

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that.

“Hi.”

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes.

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be.

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…”

“No, I—Come in.”

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked.

Something inside of you hurt.

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.”

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched.

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n. I care about you more than anything—I love you.”

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?”

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?”

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin.

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—”

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—”

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.”

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—”

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair.

Gods, you missed him.

You missed him and everything hurt.

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change.

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.”

“You can, angel.”

“I need to know that you love me.”

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze.

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.”

“I love you.”

"I know you do, Az. I know."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel x y/n

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superbat-love · 2 days

Text

Clark: Uh, hi Bruce.

Bruce: Hey.

Damian: Are you two going to stare at each other forever? Because it’s getting awfully cold out here.

Clark: [clears his throat] I brought your son over. I think you left him behind at the zoo.

Bruce: Yes, sorry about that. I have Jon here, I mistook him for Damian. I’ve been meaning to drive him back to Metropolis, but you saved me a trip. Thanks.

Jon: Alfred gave me a huge bowl of chocolate ice-cream, dad! It was sooo good!

Clark: Thanks for looking after Jon. Well Damian, I’m glad to have met you again, even if it wasn’t exactly under ideal circumstances.

Bruce: What did he do?

Damian: Nothing! It was the stupid zookeeper’s fault.

Bruce: Damian…

Damian: The zookeeper’s still alive, okay? The monkey would have been happier here anyway.

Bruce: Damian, I told you to stop bringing home random animals. Don’t think I don’t know about the cow you’ve been hiding in your bedroom.

Jon: You have a cow?

Damian: Yeah! Her name is Bat-Cow. Do you want to meet her?

Jon: Wow, I wanna see her! Can I dad?

Clark: Um, sure, if it’s not a problem for you, Bruce?

Bruce: Go ahead. [Watches Damian pull Jon to his room] God, why did I decide to have kids?

Alfred: You have eight, sir. It’s a little too late to be having regrets now. [turns to Clark] Forgive us for our lack of manners, Mr Kent. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?

Superbat Family Fics

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reidswhre · 3 days

Text

notes 4 you ; spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: fluff! best friends in love

You were gathering your things from your desk while wondering what you were going to have for dinner. You hadn’t left any food prepared, and honestly, you didn’t feel like cooking, but nothing that a food delivery couldn’t fix.

“Hi.” Spencer smiled at you from in front.

“Hey, you.” You smiled back while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Are you heading home?” He asked.

“Of course, I’m going home, where else would I go at this hour?” You teased him.

“Oh- I don’t know- I- well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought maybe you could come to my place, I’m making pasta.”

“Your place? Oh God, sure! I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

You used to go to Spencer’s place often, and he to yours. You’d have dinner, watch a movie or two, and talk a lot. You spent all day together at work, but given the tragic cases you dealt with, seeing each other outside of work felt peaceful, a nice atmosphere that you both created.

You liked him a lot, and you were sure he liked you too. There were always moments when everything felt tense or you sensed something stronger than friendship between you, but neither of you ever acted on it.

“I missed it here,” you said as you entered Spencer’s apartment.

“Did you?” He asked as he watched you head straight to his bookshelf.

“Are you kidding? I love this place; it’s so cozy, so interesting, so lovely, so… you.”

“Do you love me?” He gave you a playful look as he set the groceries on the table for dinner.

“Of course, I do, silly.” You rolled your eyes and picked up the book on the coffee table. “This one’s new.”

“Yeah—actually, all those piled over there are new.” He pointed to a stack of about five books to your right.

“Oh, can I borrow this one when you're done?” you asked, grabbing one from the pile.

“You can take any of them, really.” He gave you that closed-lip smile.

“Wait, you’ve read all five already? You said they were new!”

“I read fast.”

“Of course you do.” You rolled your eyes again, smiling as you skimmed through the book.

“By the way! I finished reading that book you recommended, your favorite, remember?”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. “You’re kidding! I didn’t even know you bought it! How exciting! What did you think?”

“It was pretty good, though I think the dialogues in the book show some deficiencies in terms of plausibility and conversational dynamics. This homogeneity in the discourse negatively affects the characterization and pacing, creating a sense of stagnation in the dramatic development.”

You were left speechless, which made you laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” He furrowed his brows.

“You just severely criticized my favorite book!”

“I didn’t criticize it severely!” He defended himself. “I thought it was good! It has memorable lines, and it’s very romantic. I just think the dialogue could’ve been better, that’s all.”

“Sure, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, even if yours is wrong,” you teased.

“Hey!” Spencer feigned offense.

You laughed, and Spencer chuckled a little too.

“You can keep that one too.”

“No, no, don’t worry. I have that book in every edition that exists.” You laughed. “It’s my favorite for a reason.”

“Yeah, but—I thought you might want this one.” Spencer walked over to the bookshelf in front of you and pulled out the book from a drawer.

The book was filled with sticky notes. You glanced at it and saw it was covered with annotations everywhere.

“I—well—I made notes while reading because—I don’t know—I wanted to give it to you. I thought you’d like to see how I was doing as I read it.” He looked a bit nervous.

You looked at him and then back at the book. You were so surprised that no words came out of your mouth, which only made Spencer more anxious.

“No—you don’t have to keep it—It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you had to read it, I didn’t even ask if you wanted it, I’m really sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry for giving me the best gift anyone’s ever given me?” You smiled broadly.

“What? You want it?” He sighed in relief.

“Are you kidding? This is incredible.” You threw your arms around him in a hug. “I love it! I can’t wait to see what you wrote.” You pulled away from the hug to skim through the book.

“No! Don’t do that!” He placed his hands over the book so you couldn’t read it. “Read it at home, okay?”

“Why!? I want to read it now.” You laughed and moved the book out of his reach.

“The thing is, I—you know—I wrote a lot…” He looked away.

You gave him a knowing look. “Of course, that was the idea, wasn’t it? I’m well aware,” you said teasingly.

“Sure! But… I didn’t just write what I thought about the book.” He looked at you. “I highlighted and underlined things that reminded me of you, and… I wrote you a few things. Just—read it later, okay?”

Suddenly, you felt a bit nervous, your stomach flipping. What did he mean by writing you a few things?

“Oh sure… yeah—sorry.” You closed the book and tucked it under your arm.

“It’s okay! Forget it.” He smiled sweetly. “Help me with the pasta, yeah?”

You smiled back. “What?” You pretended to be offended. “I came here to be treated like a princess, not to get my hands dirty!”

“Stop complaining!” He teased you, and you laughed.

You returned home around midnight, hung up your jacket, and left your keys on the table. Eagerly, you pulled the book out of your bag and sat down on the couch to take a look.

You saw some of his notes.

What’s this supposed to be? This guy’s an idiot. >:(

Oh, that was sweet! Extra points for him!

She’s funny, just like you.

you and me :) It was next to a paragraph describing a black cat and an orange one playing around.

I’m reading this on the plane, and you’re asleep i miss you :(

I seriously hate this guy, who raised him!?

You looked really cute today. You’re always cute.

There were countless more notes, all in his handwriting.

You had no intention of sleeping until you finished reading them all.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #request #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mathew gray gubler #mgg #mathew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #fluff #spencer reid one shot #x reader

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fandoms-x-reader · 2 days

Text

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly.

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did.

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised.

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt.

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside.

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world.

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different.

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said.

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones.

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

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pastabaguette · 1 day

Text

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

#ddlc monika #monika #gordon freeman #alyx vance #half life 2 #hitman #agent 47 #chell portal #chell #rambling #homestuck #i’m so sorry

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lulunothulu · 3 days

Note

Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙

Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗

“Don’t worry”

Tyler Owens x Reader

“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.

He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.

When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.

“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.

He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.

‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.

Tyler’s heart stops.

Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.

He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.

He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.

When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.

“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.

He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”

He checks your pulse.

Good, steady but kind of weak.

Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.

Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.

The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.

“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.

He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.

“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.

“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.

———

At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.

How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?

He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.

Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.

“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.

“When?” He’d asked.

“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”

The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.

Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.

“Tyler?”

“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”

“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.

“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.

“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.

“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”

Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”

“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”

“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”

“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”

“10:30 PM,” he tells you.

“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.

Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”

He turns around. “Yes baby?”

“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.

#glen powell #fanfic #tyler owens #tyler owens headcanon #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens oneshot #tyler owens x reader #twisters 2024 #twisters #lulu's requests mail

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myownwholewildworld · 1 day

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THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

“We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

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moonstruckme · 2 days

Note

omg mae bae happy bday and congrats on 7k wowie! would you do apple pie, ¹⁰⁾ a six pack of beer and an apology, with steve harrington? <3

Thank you lovely <3

cw: alcohol, spin the bottle

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Steve finds you in the kitchen. You’ve procured a pair of scissors from somewhere, and you’re snipping apart those plastic rings that hold together six-packs. You glance up as he comes in but look away quickly, picking another up off the counter.

“Turtles strangle themselves on these things,” you say. You snip a corner, the sound short and crisp. “I don’t know why we still use them.”

Steve honestly doesn’t think much about sea animals when he’s drinking a beer, but he wants to agree with you. “Me neither.”

“It’s like, we’re supposed to be this advanced society. Can’t we come up with something that doesn’t kill turtles?”

“Mhm. Probably.”

“I just think it’s dumb.” You push out a breath. It sounds frustrated, but Steve knows you well. You’re more stressed than angry. He’s not patient enough to wait for you to get around to telling him that yourself.

“What’re you doing in here?” he asks.

You look up at him again. Shrug. “I was sick of being out there.”

“You wanna go home?”

“Do you?”

It’s a fair thing to ask. Steve’s your ride, so leaving these things is usually a joint decision. But he feels like the question is pointed. “Do you think I wanna go home?”

“I don’t know.” Some of the stress is seeping into your voice now, your terseness taking on a new hue. “You seemed mad.”

He was mad (is mad?). He just hasn’t figured out if it’s fair for him to be, yet, so he wasn’t planning on making it your business. He thought that would be the nice thing to do, but you don’t seem to appreciate being left out of the loop.

“Do I seem mad now?” he asks.

You cut through the last plastic ring with a harsh snap. “Christ, Steve, I don’t know. Why are you asking me all this?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though it’s automatic he does mean it. “I’m not trying to be mad at you.”

Your eyes meet his, crushed before you can hide it. “But you are.”

“Not—” He sighs, jamming his thumb against his brow bone. It’s an anxious habit, a preventative measure against potential headaches. “Not really. Not in a way that’s important.”

“I think it’s important anytime you’re mad at me,” you say. Your voice has softened and smalled. Steve feels like his guts are in knots. He wants to make an excuse, to explain—It’s not that I’m actually mad at you. I haven’t decided if I should be. So we’re all good, right? For now, I mean. At least until I decide.—but before he get the chance to further fuck things up you ask, “Can you tell me what you’re mad about?”

Steve drops his hand to look at you. “You really don’t know?”

You wince, and he thinks you do know. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.”

He feels his brows furrow. “For what to happen?”

“For it to land on you.”

“That’s not…it’s spin the bottle. You can’t control who it lands on. That’s the point.”

You shake your head, almost to yourself. Your fingers are fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. “I shouldn’t have even played. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have if I’d known that was gonna happen.”

“What do you keep apologizing for?” Some accidental anger makes its way into Steve’s tone. “Who did you want to kiss?”

You blink. “No one.”

“Nobody plays spin the bottle unless they want to kiss someone.”

“Well, I guess I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Because!” Your voice rises, and you lower it just as quickly. You both glance to the kitchen entryway like the calvary is going to come force you back to that stupid party just because you almost yelled. “Because,” you say, quieter, “it was weird.”

Steve forgets to even try to keep his face in check. He feels it twist with hurt. “It was?”

“Yes! Everyone was looking at us, and it was like a game—it was a game.” You pull your sleeves over your hands, shoulders winding up tight. “I guess I just feel like that sort of thing should be private.”

Awareness dawns upon him like a slow sunrise. Steve has never been known for his book smarts, but he’s not stupid. He knows what it feels like to be liked. He’s just never known what it felt like to be liked by you.

A little laugh of disbelief stumbles out of him. “You said ‘ew.’”

You’d been tipsier and fizzy with excitement when the game had started. Smiling and laughing at everything, your giddiness palpable. When your turn had come, Steve had watched you carefully to see if your eyes did that hopeful flit to someone in the circle, but all your concentration had been on the bottle, your smile slipping just a little as it spun. And landed on him.

Ew, you laughed. No, c’mon, you can’t make us.

That’s the game, Marcy had reminded you gleefully. As a resister, you now had the attention of most of the circle. It wasn’t Steve’s first time playing. He knew how it went.

Relax. He’d forced a smile, getting onto his hands and knees to meet you in the middle. It’ll be quick. Not too disgusting.

You’d made a face of humorous unwillingness, your eyes darting around the group as if seeking rescue. Fine, you relented. If it’s not a big deal to you, it’s not to me.

Steve had done this more than once, but it felt especially awkward with you. Crawling into the middle of a circle of spectators, your hand knocking the bottle so that it clinked and rolled. True to his promise, he kept it brief, a short, painless press of his lips. Hardly enough to feel the impression of yours before you were both pulling away, Steve silent and you spewing a string of nervous giggles.

You’d left before it was Steve’s turn to spin.

Now you seem near to ripping the sleeves of your shirt, the material stretched over your curled fingers as you worry your lip. You’re back to not looking at him. “I didn’t mean ‘ew’ at you.”

It had sure sounded like it. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant it, like, I didn’t like how things were going.” You laugh at yourself, the sound stymied. “Like ew, we have to kiss in front of everyone, or ew, Chris is watching us way too intently.”

Steve makes a face. “He was?”

“Is that what you’re mad about?” Something seems to dawn upon you now, too, your expression clearing. “That I said that?”

He looks at you for a second. “Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud.”

“No it doesn’t,” you say, but you look to be fighting a grin. “I’m sorry, it’s not stupid. I didn’t mean to be mean.”

“It’s okay,” he says genuinely.

You shake your head. “I wasn’t thinking. But that’s not what I meant.”

Steve knows this now, but he teases you anyway. “Are you sure about that?”

You hesitate only half a second before you catch onto what he’s doing. Your smile starts to win. “I’m sure.”

“Kissing me doesn’t disgust you?”

“No.” Your voice is bashful now, but your eyes are steady on his as you take a step toward him.

The knots in Steve’s guts aren’t getting any looser, though there’s a different kind of commotion going on there now. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

You reach for each other at the same time, his hands on your ribs and yours on either side of his face, and this time there’s no glass bottles to knock or rules to adhere to or spectators to appease. This kiss isn’t short.

183 notes · View notes

midnightorchids · 9 hours

Text

Jason couldn’t help but smile when you entered the shared bathroom. The atmosphere was tense as you angrily ran your hands through your hair and frantically paced around the small, compact room. Curses and insults left your mouth, and he stared at you in awe.

It wasn’t often that you had an attitude, Jason never realized how attractive it was before.

He was sitting on the counter near the sink, shirtless, in an almost relaxed manner. The scars on his skin were highlighted under the pale yellow light of the bathroom and you could tell he was trying to hide a smirk. The sheer audacity made you livid. This was the second time this week that he came home bloodied and bruised. Only God knew how many times this exact situation had occurred this month.

You weren’t sure what it was that he was doing or what sort of trouble he had gotten himself into, you were just glad he made it home to you every night. The thought of losing Jason kept you awake in the late hours of the evening, his scars often haunted your dreams, but the fear, however, didn’t stop you from getting angry.

Most days, you wanted to leave him in the bathroom, make him clean the bloodied mess himself, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t just leave him alone, you had to be there for him. Your mind and body didn’t always agree when Jason was involved, your body regularly acted on its own accord.

And like every other day, you found yourself grabbing the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, preparing to cleanse his wounds. You eyed his naked chest before silently reaching over to dampen a cotton pad with alcohol. Your frustration still lingered, Jason could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He stared at you intently, his eyes raked up and down your annoyed figure. He cupped your free hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting you get back to work.

When the cool liquid touched his torn lip, he let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He clutched your hand tighter and pretended to flinch when you went back for a second time. He was being dramatic. He wanted the sympathy and craved the attention, and noticing the lack of reaction made him a little upset.

His hands reached down to your waist, he pulled you in between his legs and gave your skin a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to clean his mouth. “You’re an idiot, Jay, what are we gonna do about that tooth now,” he grinned in response, showing off the broken tooth. The sight made you want to giggle. He looked stupid, but adorable.

Your body, once again, reacted without thinking and your hands moved to caress his bruised jaw. He needed to shave, his stubble scratched and tickled your skin. His larger hand cupped your own and he placed a quick kiss on the inside of your palm, genuinely flinching this time. It pulled at your heartstrings.

“I’m so sorry,” he said once more, sincerely. You stared into his tired eyes and smiled, silently praying that this was the last time you ever had to clean his wounded skin.

“I forgive you, Jay.”

#gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd imagine #red hood headcanon #red hood imagine #batfam

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 17 hours

Text

A family thing

Written for the September pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog

Prompt: Anniversary

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Recovery; Disabled Eddie; POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Implied sexual content; Domestic fluff; Found family

The sounds coming from the kitchen pull Wayne from his sleep much earlier than he'd like after a night shift. He lies awake for a while, cursing the government. Sure, they covered Eddie’s medical bills and bought them the new trailer, but would it have killed them to get one with thicker walls? He doesn't need to hear everything the boy gets up to.

He's almost managed to drift off again when a clatter and a string of swear words make him shoot upright. He barrels out into the corridor that separates the living space from the bedrooms, almost colliding with Steve, who has just barged from Eddie’s room. His eyes are bleary, his hair a tousled mess. He's wearing boxers and a familiar guitar pick necklace, and that is it.

“Ed?” Wayne asks, ignoring how Steve freezes at the sight of him. “What happened?”

Eddie, on the kitchen floor in a heap of gangly limbs and fallen crutches, groans. “Wayne! You weren't supposed to wake up.”

“Yeah, you're making that kinda hard,” Wayne mumbles, eyeing the shattered plates and spilled food on the ground. Toast and bacon and pancakes. There's something stuck in Eddie’s hair that looks like scrambled eggs.

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bridging the few steps into the kitchen and dropping into a crouch beside Eddie. Wayne stays where he is and watches. The way Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him up, careful not to hurt him. How Eddie slings bony arms over Steve’s shoulders, fingers grazing the scars on the boy's back.

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” Steve asks. The rising sun basks the kitchen in oranges and golds, and for a second, Wayne is overcome by the thought that he mustn't blink, or they'll vanish. “I could've-”

“What, on this highest of holidays?” Eddie asks, gesturing dramatically as Steve lowers him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have you no respect for tradition? It is my responsibility and my duty to do this alone.”

Steve blinks, then looks over at Wayne.

“Okay? I don't get it.”

Eddie cackles, gently pushing him aside to beckon Wayne closer.

“Happy Uncle's Day!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbles, bending at the hip so that Eddie can hug him, but there's an annoying sting behind his eyes. For a moment all he can think is how close he came to losing all of this.

“What the fuck is Uncle's Day?” Steve asks. He's eyeing the calendar on the wall like he's expecting it to spout an extra holiday.

Eddie scoffs. “Only the most important holiday of the year? You need to stay up to date on-”

“When Ed was nine years old,” Wayne explains, making his way over to the coffee pot, “he came home one day, seething and spitting venom, ‘cause his teacher had them making Father's Day cards.”

“Why would I be making that asshole a fucking card?” Eddie grumbles. A pink blush has erupted from the collar of his shirt, but Wayne isn’t sure if it's because of the childhood story or because of the way Steve has pulled out the chair next to his and is finger-combing bits of egg from his curls. “The only thing I should've given him is a kick in-”

“That's exactly what he said back then,” Wayne says, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter. “So we came up with an idea.”

Steve frowns at Eddie. “Uncle's Day?”

Eddie beams. “The anniversary of the day Wayne took me in.”

“Dunno if took in is the right term,” Wayne hums around his first sip. “You pretty much let yourself in and refused to leave.”

Eddie waves him off, as if to say that he won’t argue about the technicalities. Steve’s eyes, meanwhile, have grown large.

“Wait,” he says. “That's today? Why didn’t- … I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

Eddie cocks his head at him, smile bright and incredibly fond. It makes a familiar warmth spread behind Wayne’s collarbone, one that has nothing at all to do with the coffee. “Why would you be sorry?”

Steve gestures awkwardly at the mess that is the kitchen. “This is a family thing. If you’d told me, I’d have left you alone.”

Eddie laughs. On the tabletop, his fingers find Steve’s.

“Exactly,” he says. “This is a family thing. You're right where you belong. Ain't he, Wayne?”

Wayne regards them - two men littered in battle scars, leaning into each other in the hazy morning light - and thinks of a hurt little boy who was too scared to let anyone in.

“Can't argue with that,” he says.

Steve's face lights up as if he'd just invited him to spend Christmas morning.

“I- … thank you,” he stutters, and Wayne gets a feeling that he, too, is still learning to let people in. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make us new-”

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and hooks one finger into the necklace to pull him back. His next words are a murmur against the shell of Steve's ear, so low Wayne almost misses them. “Maybe get dressed first, darling.”

The last thing Wayne sees of Steve as he flees into Eddie’s room is the blush coloring his neck and shoulders.

“Do you have to tease him like that?” he asks, starting to gather the broken plates off the ground.

Eddie shrugs. “He can take it. I think that's a basic requirement for joining this family?”

His eyes find Wayne's, searching for a reaction.

“Ed,” he says, picking up the crutches and handing them over. “My only requirement ever was for you to be happy. I think your boy has long proven himself in that regard. Now, run over to the Mayfields and ask if we can borrow some eggs, yeah?”

As Eddie bolts out with a blush matching Steve's, Wayne settles into the newly vacated chair, allowing himself a long sip of coffee and a content sigh.

It's gonna be a good Uncle's Day.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024

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kachowden · 24 hours

Text

Gonna start calling these late night drabbles or something at this point.

You know those ASMR videos, where it’s two people, and one of them has like different fluffy brushes and oils and stuff that they rub on the person laying down? Like a massage? Visual ASMR?

I’m thinking about a yandere asmrtist who brought you in for one those videos. Maybe you won a giveaway or something, but realistically I think you were originally a fan. So he didn’t know you at all.

But then of course, you showed up at his studio. Stunning. Gorgeous. Irresistible. The whole package really. And he felt something deep in his stomach. Maybe butterflies. Maybe indigestion. Regardless, despite having done this before, he’s nervous. Off the bat it’s awkward.

But he’s a professional. So he powers through. A few moments of idle chat, and various prep work goes by, before you’re lying on the cot, surrounded by herbal candles and oils that already send you into a deep state of relaxation.

He starts the video as he always does, jumping right into it. Brushing your hair back, smoothing down the skin on your shoulders. Tracing your features with a soft fluffy stick thingy. Goes the whole nine yards. And the entire time he is sweating buckets from how aroused he is.

At some point through the session he starts to wonder if his heavy breathing is as visible as he thinks it is. If you can feel the sweat dripping down his arms and forehead. And his composure starts to wane. The way your breathing slows, the way your muscles relax. It’s driving him a little crazy. You’re so…comfortable. Because of him. He made you comfortable.

That means something doesn’t it? I mean you were a fan of his anyway. So obviously you liked him. He liked you too of course. It made him have a new thankfulness for his career. How would he have met you otherwise? His soulmate. No. He wanted to believe no matter what you two would have found each other. This feeling in his chest was so deep and passionate. Surely you guys were past lovers too right? You would’ve found each other.

And since you’ve loved each other before…it should be easy to love again? It’d be natural. Perfect. So when he hands start to squeeze a little more sensually, and his eyes began to lower. He doesn’t feel particularly guilty anymore. Your skin is familiar to his deluded mind. The way his fingers began to dig and mold into your soft skin and flesh, sliding up and down, the fabric of your shirt getting pushed lower…and lower..it’s all familiar. Yes he’s sure of it. You’ve both done this before. Your bodies have collapsed together dozens of times. That’s the only explanation, so there’s no room for guilt.

riiiiiiinnnnngg

And he jumps back, ripped away from his hazey day dream: your eyes fluttering open with a slightly exaggerated yawn that hopefully mutes the sound of his racing heart.

“Wow…” you laugh, and he would’ve taken a moment to appreciate it more if not for his own existing panic. “I totally fell asleep…sorry if that ruined the take.”

He pauses, swallowing thickly as his gaze quickly switches to the green light that beeps atop the camera. Right. He had been recording. He’d have to edit that later.

“No..no it was perfect. I’m sure it’ll make the viewers feel the same ease you were feeling…” his voice is as silky and gentle as always, oozing with the honey that enraptured his audience.

You smiled and hummed with a nod, groggily lifting yourself from the cot you had laid on, and grabbing your things form the chair you had set them on, you lift your hand in a wave. “Well, this was really nice! I totally needed it, and it was super cool meeting you in person! Thanks again-“

“Wait!” He jolted, a blush burning his cheeks at his own over eager behavior. “You did a really good job today, so..I was hoping we could keep in contact if the video does well..”

“Oh..sure thing!”

God you were a total blessing.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x oc #x reader #yandere asmrtist #Yandere YouTuber #yandere x darling #reader darling

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x0xomady · 1 day

Text

broken cd (pt.1)

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

summary: you’re an assistant for a designer at prada, and you run into a mucisian on the streets of manhattan which leads to a long night of music, pizza, and fuzzy blankets. (rockstar!harry x fashiondesigner!reader)

warnings: smut in part 2! (they just makeout in part 1)

playlist to listen to while reading: 🎧

a/n: was this based on a cheesy "sex in the city" or “the devil wears prada” reference? yeah 100%. is this a corny romcom plotline? yes absolutely, don’t be a hater. this is just cliché after cliché after cliché. i honestly like the second half more, but enjoy!

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

‧˚⊹ October 15, 2003 ⊹˚‧

you LOATHED your job.

no, scratch that, you didn’t hate it, you just heavily disliked the work that you had to do. when breaking into the fashion industry, everyone knows you have to start from the bottom. you know that to, that doesn’t mean it’s fun.

your boss, an executive designer for prada, was currently making you run through the streets of manhattan with three bags of clothes, dry cleaning, and two cups of coffee.

of course, it was an opportunity of a life time to be able to work for someone with so much power, but still. it didn’t make it any better that it was 40 degrees and raining.

“shitshitshit” you try to run as quickly as you can in your heels to catch the cab, but some business man in a suit gets there before you. “asshole.” you mumble to yourself and groan in frustration as you try to find another taxi.

the streets are filled with rain and mist, making the cars drive slower, and taxis less available.

you huff in frustration and turn around, desperately trying to keep a grip on the drink holder and clothes. THUD

“ah!” you gasp in surprise as your body meets another, effectively knocking all of the coffee out of your hands and onto the floor. you stumble back, stepping on something on the ground.

“shit-” you hear a voice come from the person you just hit.

you look up, blinking raindrops out of your eyes. in front of you is a man, roughly your age, with a leather jacket and messy brown hair. he's looking down at the mess of spilled coffee on the sidewalk, then back up at you.

“ah fucking hell-" he mutters, noticing the cd of his that you stepped on.

there’s a pang of guilt as you look at the ruined cd. "i'm so sorry," you say, trying to keep your balance on your heels. "i wasn't looking where i was going."

you pick up the broken cd and it’s case and hold it out for the man apologetically, also grabbing the coffee cups that had dumped all over the ground.

the man looks at you for a moment, then takes the cd from you.

"thanks," he says, "but i think it's a little too late.” he holds up the broken cd, which is in two jagged pieces.

a horrible rush of guilt and also panic that you had just lost all the coffee for your boss runs through you.

“oh god- i’m SO sorry, i- here take this” you quickly pull out your wallet and hand him a twenty dollar bill.

the man looks at the bill and then back at you with a small smile as he helps you pick up the spilled coffee cups and put them in a trash can.

"uh, no it’s alright, love. i’m afraid that was a cd i made, so money won’t do much."

you look at the cd in his hand, now realizing that it’s a homemade music cd, not something you can buy at a store, and feel your guilt double.

“oh- i’m so sorry, i didn’t realize.” you say, feeling even worse now.

he shakes his head and pushes his damp hair out of his eyes.

“it’s fine, it happens,” he helps you adjust the clothes and bags in your arms so that you’re not dropping everything. “are you alright? you seem a bit frazzled.”

you nod, trying to keep your emotions in check. there was an overwhelming since of anxiety and guilt

“i’m fine, just in a hurry.” you glance down at your watch. “i need to get these things to my boss, like, right now. i’m so sorry about your cd-”

the man smiles and shakes his head again. "really, it's no problem. it was nothing important."

you feel a little relief at his nonchalant attitude, but you're still feeling guilty for ruining something of his.

"are you sure? i feel terrible. is there anything i can do to make it up to you?" you ask, shifting your weight awkwardly on your heels. you had to leave, but you didn’t want to just break this man’s cd and then run away.

the man looks at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes, the rain was picking up, leaving some drops to fall from his curls.

"i'll tell you what, you make it up to me by helping me out. i’m supposed to bring a pretty girl to my concert tonight, and i don’t have anyone yet."

you blink, surprised by his proposition.

"your… concert?" you say, your mind quickly racing back to your boss and the bags of clothes in your arms. you were a bit nervous to be around this very attractive man, so you spit out the first lame excuse that comes to mind “i, um, i have work…”

he grins, clearly enjoying the look on your face. "oh, come on, it’s not until 9. just pop by and hang out with me for a bit. it’s just a gig at webster hall, nothing too fancy."

you think for a minute. was it really a good idea to agree if you didn’t know this guy? probably not, but, how often do you meet a hot british guy in new york?

“uh… alright, sure."

his smile widens, and he looks genuinely pleased that you agreed.

"great, i’ll give you my number so i can let you in."

he pulls out a sharpie from his pocket, takes the cd case that was broken and writes his phone number on one of the broken shards before handing it to you.

you stare at the broken cd in your hand for a moment, then look back at the man.

“so… i just need to go to the venue, and call you?" you ask, checking the time again.

he nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "that would do it, darling. can i have your name so i can tell them to let you in?”

you nod and smile a little bit, feeling less anxious and upset than you did five minutes ago. “yeah i’m y/n”

he grins “y/n, lovely name. i’m harry. i have to get to soundcheck, but i’ll see you later, yeah?”

he starts walking down the street but turns around and smiles. “be sure to look extra pretty tonight, gotta impress my friends!”

you nod and watch as he walks away, feeling a bit flustered at his comment. you look down at the broken cd shard in your hands, with his messy handwriting scribbled on it.

“okay then…” you mutter to yourself suddenly the realization that you were late to work and needed four new coffees hits you. “OH SHIT-”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ at the office ｡⁺˚｡⋆

after successfully running two blocks to get more coffee, running two more blocks back to get to the office, you made it. your boss wasn't angry, just neutral and stern as usual.

“thank you, y/n, phoebe should have your assignment on her desk.” your boss takes a sip of her coffee without looking up from the sheets she was looking through, waving for you to leave.

(a/n: i 1000% thought about gisele bündchen in the devil wears prada when i was writing phoebe. this is so cliché im sorry)

you nod and walk back out to your desk. your friend and co-worker, phoebe, is sitting at her desk. she immediately sits up and looks at you as you approach your desk.

“you’re late. i was beginning to get worried.” she says, putting the papers for the new design on your desk. “what happened?”

you sigh and sit down in your chair, putting your head in your hands.

“ugh, don’t even ask. i stepped on music that some hot english guy made and had to run around manhattan looking for more coffee because i destroyed the first three cups on the sidewalk.”

phoebe's eyes widen at the mention of the hot english guy.

“wait, wait, wait.” she says, leaning forward in her chair. “hold on, rewind. who is this hot guy?”

you roll your eyes a little, amused by her excitement.

"his name is harry. he said he's a musician performing at webster hall tonight. he's the guy who owned the cd i destroyed.”

you reach into your pocket and pull out the shard of the broken cd that had his name and phone number on it.

phoebe's eyes seem on the verge of popping out of her head as she grabs the shard from your hand and reads the messy handwriting.

"he gave you his phone number? and you’re going to his gig tonight? this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!"

you smile and take the shard back from her. "i'm not even sure why i agreed. i've got work and i don't really know anything about him or his music”

phoebe's grins and leans back her chair, looking smug. "oh, please, you know exactly why you agreed. it’s because he’s hot and british."

you roll your eyes again, but your face flushes for a moment.

"okay, fine, but there’s still a chance his music sucks, then what?" you ask, picking up the papers and starting to look through your work.

she shrugs, looking unconvinced. "i suppose. but let's be real, there's no way a good-looking guy who's british and a musician is going to suck. that's just against the rules."

you scoff a little and shake your head, although you had to admit, phoebe had a point. most british rockstars are hot...

"alright, alright. but he could be a jerk, or crazy, or-"

"or you guys could fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after and you show your kids this cute little cd" interrupts phoebe.

you laugh and roll your eyes. "yeah, or that. in reality, i'll probably end up going home after the gig and never hear from him again."

phoebe frowns at your negativity. "oh come on, have some optimism. maybe he's 'the one' and this is your meet cute."

you smile and shakes your head at her response, going through the new designs for your boss. "yeah, we’ll see.”

phoebe grins and turns back to her computer, typing as she speaks up again. “…. you’re gonna wear that mini skirt aren’t you?"

you smile and shrug, writing down notes for the designs.

“maybe"

phoebe hums in response and continues typing for a few seconds before responding

“someone’s trying to get lock him down-”

"shut up!"

⋆｡˚⁺｡ that night ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you did, in fact, wear the mini skirt. obviously.

how often did a sexy british musician come up to a girl in new york? never! this is a once in a life time opportunity, and you needed all the leather mini skirts you could find.

it only took about one mental breakdown, four calls with your friends, and a shot to convince you to leave the apartment.

there was a HIGH chance this guy was like every other up-and-coming mucisian in new york, annoying and pretentious. however, you were getting hope that maybe he wasn't as bad, he was pretty sweet this morning afterall.

(a/n: THIS is the outfit i imagined, but it's up to you! imagine whatever you would feel most comfortable in!)

you hail a cab and give the address for webster hall, looking at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. you made sure to do a little heavier makeup than usual, and your leather mini skirt matched with your black sleeveless top and boots.

the cab pulls up in front of the building and you pay the driver. you look up at the building, it was already crowded with people lined outside the venue. you pull the cd shard out of your pocket and dial in the number written on it, holding the phone to your ear.

it rings a couple times before he picks up.

"hello? is this the pretty girl i ordered?” he asks, teasingly.

you smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. “yeah it’s her. she's waiting outside in the cold so you better hurry up, rockstar.”

he laughs, the sound of people chatting and music playing faintly in the background.

"rockstar, huh? i like that. gimme a minute, love, i just have to let security know you're here." you hear him talking to someone as the phone hangs up.

you put the phone back in your pocket and lean against the front of the building, waiting patiently as a few drops of rain fall from the sky. after a couple minutes of waiting a security guard appears in front of you, looking you up and down.

“are you y/n?”

you nod, adjusting your jacket. “yeah.”

the guard looks you over again before nodding and gesturing for you to follow him inside, going back through a door that lead into the venue.

you walk into room, which seemed to lead to backstage. people were either standing around chatting or sitting on the couch, some of them were holding instruments. you looked around, wondering where this man disappeared to.

you turn around and look at the man with the irish accent. he had a big smile on his face and was holding a guitar so he must be part of their band.

“hello, love! what are you doing here?” you practically jump out of your skin as a blonde man pops up behind you.

“oh- hi. i’m y/n, i’m looking for harry…”

the blonde man's smile widens and he nods, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the room.

“oh, yeah, he’s over by the couch. c’mon i’ll take you to him” he says, and you allow yourself to be led across the room to a couch in the corner where a group of three men were sitting.

one of the men sitting on the couch was the one you were looking for. harry was wearing a loose faded t-shirt and jeans, and he was laughing at something one of his friends said. he notices you and his eyes widen in surprise, and his smile widens.

“there you are!” he says, standing up and walking towards you, playfully shoving the blonde guy away. “niall will you back off? i don’t need you scaring the pretty girl before i have a chance”

niall laughs and puts his hands up in the air. “just showing her around. not trying to steal your girl.” he pats harry on the back before walking back over to the other guys.

harry turns back to you and grins, looking you over. “wow” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you look fantastic”

you smile and roll your eyes a little, he looked hot as well, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. “yeah, yeah, well i had to make sure i didn’t embarrass you while i made up for breaking your cd.

harry grins, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still looking you over approvingly.

“oh darling, i don’t think you could embarrass me even if you tried. now, the concert is about to start, but you can watch from the side stage or go sit down in the booth, whatever you want”

you nod, looking out at the growing crowd just outside the side stage. “side stage if that’s okay”

he grins excitedly and nods, grabbing your hand and leading you with him. “perfect. get a better view that way” he leads you around the side and down a narrow hallway to one side of the stage.

you followed him back, walking through the halls until you were out near the side stage. the music had already started and he turned back to you, still smiling.

“i have to go on now, but we’ll meet up after the show alright?” he asked, starting to hurry back towards the stage

you nod and smile as he runs off to go get his guitar and microphone. there were about 2,000 people in attendance, so needless to say it was cramped down below. you could see the hoards of people moving towards the stage as the lights dim and the music starts.

"who are you?"

you hear a voice behind you, and you turn around, met with a pretty brunette girl. she looks at you curiously as she walks over and stands next to you.

you look up and the girl who walked over next to you, returning the curious look.

“i’m y/n…” you say, wondering who this girl was and why she was talking to you.

“ohhh” she smiles in realization and stands next to you, looking at the crowd as well. “i’m amelia, niall’s girlfriend. harry was bragging earlier that he found a hot girl on the street and we didn’t believe him.”

you nod and smile at the mention of their disbelief. “yeah, he ran into me on the street this morning- well, actually, i ran into him, quite literally”

amelia nods and grins as she watches the guys on stage. “yeah, that sounds about right.”

she turns to look at you again, still smiling. “i heard you broke the infamous cd…”

you nod, a little embarrassed at the mention of the broken cd.

"yeah…. that happened. it didn’t happen to be important or anything… did it? harry didn’t tell me, but i felt really guilty about it.”

amelia smiles at your question and shrugs. “all the guys call it “the infamous cd” because they’re dorks. it’s just a lucky charm that harry carries around with him everywhere."

you sigh in relief and nod, a little glad you didn't actually ruin anything important. "lucky cd, huh? does it work?"

amelia laughs and shakes her head. “that’s what niall says - apparently it’s what got them their first record deal”

“really?” you ask, looking out at harry who was about to go on stage. “he didn’t tell me that. i feel even worse now…”

amelia shrugs and smiles again, looking amused. “don’t worry about it. harry’s a little dramatic, he just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

there was a certain air of excitement in the crowded room, and the buzz of people talking around you slowly started to disappear as the music got louder. you leaned against the side of the the wall, peering into the crowded room as harry and his band stepped on stage.

the concert starts, people singing and screaming along to the lyrics. each song had deep bass, guitar solos, and of course harry singing. did you feel a little bit stupid for not recognizing a guy that was apparently famous on the street? yeah.

the concert continued like that for about an hour, harry’s voice filling up the whole room. he had a certain stage presence to him, something about his charisma that drew you in and captured your attention.

"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect And all the boys, they were saying they were into it Such a pretty face on a pretty neck”

as harry sings the lyrics to his next song, your eyes widen in realization. oh… you DID know their songs.

you watch the rest of the concert dumbfounded by the fact that you didn't realize that harry was in one the most popular bands in the modern century. you were joking before, but, he really was a rockstar.

amelia notices your look and smiles a little, leaning over. “they’re good right?”

you nod in agreement, your eyes glued to the stage. “yeah, they’re amazing… i didn’t…i didn’t think he was famous when we met…”

amelia smirked a little as she watched your eyes follow Harry around the stage. “yeah, he’s really humble. you’ll never find him flaunting it. he’s a pretty good guy”

as the concert comes to a close, the crowd starts to cheer and scream for a final song.

harry, who was now glistening with sweat and grinning like an idiot, looked straight into the side stage where you were standing and nodded for you to follow him backstage.

amelia smiles and looks at you before you walk away. “well it was nice to meet you, i’m sure i’ll see you around sometime.”

“yeah, you too” you smile back and walk away from amelia, following him behind the side stage into the messy back rooms. you could still hear the crowd of people screaming and cheering just outside of the door.

harry was standing there, panting as security guards were directing people around, still grinning and high on adrenaline from the performance.

he turns to look at you and grins again. “so, love, what did ya think?”

you smile and nod, walking over to him. “you should’ve told me you were famous, i feel like a dumbass.”

harry shakes his head and smiles, wiping his face with a towel. “nah i’m not that famous yet, maybe one day.”

he smiles and looks down at you for a second before speaking again. “did you want to go get pizza? i’m starving and i would die for a greasy slice.”

you nod and return the smile, leaning against the wall next to him. pizza sounded good after sitting under those bright lights in a crowded room for an hour.

"sure. lead the way, rockstar"

harry hums and smiles, he slips a hoodie over his head and yells something out to the other guys before turning back to you.

“alright, let’s go pretty girl.”

he nods for you to follow him, walking out of the back door of the venue and onto the lightly rainy streets of new york.

you follow him out and shiver as the cold air hits you. you weren’t sure if it was from the weather or the fact that harry called you “pretty girl”.

harry pulled the hood up on his hoodie and started walking down the sidewalk. he was still grinning like an idiot. “so…. talk to me… what do you do? i could tell by all the clothes from this morning it had something to do with fashion.”

you nod as you walk with him and shiver again. harry seems to notice and moves closer to you, your shoulders brushing as the two of you walk.

"yeah, i'm in fashion design." you say with a smile. "it's a pain in the ass, but it gives me some sort of purpose. hopefully after i finish this internship i can get an actual job for prada, at least i hope."

harry grins and nods as he looks over at you. “no kidding? i guess it fits. you’re like… really good at dressin’, and all that.”

he looks up at the sky as the rain starts to come down harder. he leads you down the street towards a pizza shop. the streets are dark other than a few people leaving clubs or taxis driving around.

you smile a little as harry compliments you, kind of embarrassed.

the two of you reach the pizza shop and harry holds the door open for you, still smiling. inside the small shop the air is warm and smells like bread and grease.

harry walks up to the counter and looks at the menu on the wall. “alright, love. what do you want?”

you look up at the menu before walking to the counter and standing next to harry."hmm… i'll just have a pepperoni slice and a coke"

the man behind the counter nods and looks up at harry, as he also orders him a few slices of pizza and a drink. harry pays for the food before walking over to a table in the corner of the small shop and sitting down, still looking cheerful.

"so prada, huh? so they've got you runnin' coffees and doin' menial work then?" he sighs as he stretches in the chair before looking at you again.

you sigh and smile a little, sitting down as well. “yeah but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

harry nods and smiles. “yeah, i know what ya mean. i was broke for years until someone finally picked us up.” he takes a big bite of his pizza as you also start eating.

you smile and takes a bite of your pizza. “so you’re british? are you in new york just for a show or did you move here?”

harry nods as he finishes chewing, he picks up his drink and takes a sip as he replies.

“i just moved here last year."

you look at him curiously as you take a sip of your own drink. "how do you like it? do you get homesick at all?"

harry shrugs as he swallows another bite of his pizza.

“it’s alright. new york is way bigger than where i’m from. there’s no getting homesick when i constantly talk to my mum and sister back at home, i don’t have time to miss it.”

he grins playfully and takes another bite of pizza before speaking again. “i like it here. there’s a lot to do. the pizza is good, there’s pretty girls everywhere running into me on the streets…”

you smile and shake your head, holding up the shard of cd from your pocket. amelia had told you that it held some signifigance for their band, and you didn’t want to take that away, even if it was broken.

“yeah about that, you should take this back.”

harry smiles and shakes his head, taking a bite of his second slice. he leans back against the chair, looking at you with an amused expression. “nah it’s alright, i still have the other chunk.”

you look at him hesitantly for a minute before nodding and putting the broken cd back in your pocket. “okay…”

harry swallows the pizza and watches as you finish before speaking again. “so how did you like the show?”

you look up at him and smile. in truth, you loved the show. they sounded good, harry had a great stage presence, and you recognized a few of their songs. “i really liked it, you did a good job. i recognized that one song… um… what is it called? the one about having babies?”

harry laughs and takes a drink of his soda, nodding. he runs his hand through his slightly wet curls from the rain and smiles. “ah yeah… that would be “kiwi” you like it?”

you nod, smiling at harry with your chin resting in your hand. "yeah, it was good." you take a bite of pizza, looking down at the table for a moment, then looking back up at him. "i didn’t think i would like it as much as i did. i’m not usually much of a rock girl, but i had fun."

you think for a moment, then smile sheepishly. "it's mostly pop stuff, like beyonce or christina aguilera. i told you i'm not much of a rock girl, but you sounded good."

it was embarrassing, he was a rockstar and you were casually admitting to listening to pop music, but at the same time it wasn’t. harry was very easy going, and very easy to talk to. he always had a smile and always knew what to say. it's comforting.

harry grins at you, finding it cute that you listen to pop music. "nothing wrong with that, they're both pretty damn talented, not just in their songs but their styles as well. if i could pull of low waisted jeans i would totally wear them"

you can't help but giggle a little as harry mentions low waisted jeans. you can picture him in those kind of jeans, the tattoos along his stomach showing slightly above the low waist… yeah… you wouldn’t mind that at all. (ew shut up shut up)

"well, it's mainly pop, but sometimes i listen to rap. it all depends on what mood i'm in"

harry smiles at your giggles and looks you over. he finishes the last bite of his pizza and wipes his face and hands with a napkin.

"yeah? okay… so i know you like pop music, you work in fashion, you're very sweet, we’re practically best friends now."

you smile and roll your eyes at his remark. "best friends? really? i don't know anything about you other than you’re british and you sing. cmon, tell me something."

harry’s eyes widen a little, he pretends to be offended by your statement and places his hand over his heart as he speaks. he is just so cute.

“woah woah woah, we’ve only known eachother for a couple of hours, don’t rush me love” he grins jokingly before continuing. “alright, let’s see… what do you wanna know?”

harry grins and looks at you, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, his other hand placed on the table.

“favorite album of all time huh? that’s an easy one. it’s probably… abbey road by the beatles. i know it’s the basic answer but i can’t help it, i grew up on the beatles. for favorite color… i guess black. i wear a lot of black, in case you hadn’t noticed…”

he grins as he says he last part jokingly.

you smile and nod, taking a sip of your drink. other than the owners, you two were the only people in the pizza shop left. even though you’ve only known him for about 10 hours, and it’s midnight, you felt oddly comfortable with him. you pretend to think for a minute before speaking again.

“okay… since we’re basically playing 20 questions now… do you collect anything?”

harry smiles and leans back in his chair, stretching, looking up, and thinking. “hmmm..”

he grins and looks at you. “yeah i do actually, i’ve collected vinyl ever since i was a teenager. it’s kind of my thing. i have a whole room full of them back at my house and i’m still collecting them.”

you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised, and smile again. “really? that’s cool. i didn’t think anyone collected vinyls anymore, besides hipsters who listen to the doors.”

harry grins and shakes his head. “it’s the best way to listen to music, it’s got an authentic tone. you can tell a record comes a lot more from the heart than a song on the radio. you should come over sometime. i’ve got a lot of really old, rare ones i can show you”

you smile a little and look down at the table. you had only met him a couple of hours ago and he was already inviting you over to his house, to see his vinyl collection. it wasn’t weird though, he was a very friendly person and you didn’t think he was asking you over for any other reason than to show you his collection.

“yeah… i can come over to see your vinyl collection sometime, that would be cool”

harry grins at you and nods. “great”

he glances up at a clock on the wall, noticing the time. “damn, you don’t have work tomorrow do you?”

you look over at the clock on the wall. 4 am. damn. “yeah i do actually. i’m supposed to be there at 8am”

you would get around two hours of sleep if you went home right now, not enough to function as a normal human the next day, but that’s prada for you.

harry looks at you suprised. “damn, 8am? they make you come in at 8am? i thought you fashion girls didn’t wake up until noon.” he jokes

“yeah maybe if i was a model, but i’m not,” you roll your eyes at his remark but you can’t hide a smile. “they don’t care that the only thing keeping you going at 8am is coffee and cigarettes.”

harry laughs and looks at you. “coffee and cigarettes… you have the same diet as me.”

you smile at his remark, leaning on the table with your head in your hand, mirroring his position. “coffee, cigarettes, and ramen noodles… the breakfast of champions.”

harry smiles and nods. “it’s a healthy lifestyle for sure”

he checks the time again, noting how late it is before speaking again. “so… tell me, on a scale of 1-10 how reckless are you?”

you look at him and smile. “uh… i don’t know. it really depends. i’d say i’m kind of reckless. if this is your way of asking me if i’ll ditch work and come over to your house i don’t think so, even for a cute british rockstar.”

harry laughs and leans a little closer to you. “aw that’s a shame, i was hoping you’d ditch work to listen to my music and see my collection”

he smiles at you and speaks again, getting a devious look in his eye. “cmon… just stop by?”

you roll your eyes playfully at his remark. “cmon rock star, you’ve only known me for a few hours, don’t go being too hopeful now”

despite your reply, you were actually very much considering going over to his house to see his collection. he was hot, nice, and you were tired as hell.

harry grins at your response and leans closer to you, looking into your eyes. “cmon… i promise i won’t keep you long, i just want to show you my vinyls”

his eyes darted toward the clock and then back to you. “please? one hour, tops.”

you look into his big green eyes, you were already tempted. then you look down at the clock. 3:53am.

“ugh…” then back up at him. “an hour, tops?”

harry grins, already sensing that he had convinced you, and nods. “one hour, pinkie promise.”

he smiles and intertwines your pinkies which makes you smile. you were either going to go home and get 2 hours of very little sleep… or you could go with the attractive British rockstar and at least have fun for a little while. who needed sleep anyways?

you look down at your pinkies, smiling as he intertwines them together. you couldn’t believe you were about to do this with a guy you had only met this morning. but yet, here you were.

“okay fine… one hour, that’s it”

harry grins widely and laughs a little, knowing he had won and you were coming with him. he lets go of your pinkie and looks at your expression, watching you think to yourself, probably thinking about if this was a good idea.

“perfect, cmon” he stands up and tosses your trash away, thanking the restaurant owner, before helping you up and walking out the door. there is still some rain, and the air is damp, making it misty.

you walk outside with harry into the cool, misty air. the city was oddly quiet for it being new york, but it was 3:55am so it wasn’t surprising.

you weren’t sure how you felt about this. you’d just met this guy and here you were ditching sleep to go to his house and see his vinyl collection, it definitely seemed crazy. but at the same time… he was cute, and nice and you really did want to see his collection.

harry is smiling at you, seeming to read your facial expressions and your body language, like he was trying to guess what you were thinking. he could see that you were excited yet at the same time nervous about this whole thing.

he looks at you and smiles. “come on, my apartment is just down the block”

he motions for you to follow him and starts walking, sticking with his usual fast pace for his long legs.

you nod and start walking next to him. the rain wasn’t heavy, but it was a slight drizzle and got you slightly wet as you walked.

it was weird. this whole thing was weird. you had only known harry for a few hours and already you were going back to his place to look at his vinyl collection, when in reality you should’ve been at home asleep, preparing for work tomorrow. but you weren’t, you were following a rockstar through the rain.

you smile and look over at him as you walk down the street. “be honest with me… how often do you do this with girls?”

harry glances over at you and smiles, noticing the quizzical look on your face. he grins a little as he responds. “you’re joking, right? i do this with girls all the time. i take them home to my apartment to see my vinyl collection after they go to my concerts.”

he grins jokingly and glances over at you, seeing you roll your eyes. “alright, alright… not that often. i’m assuming you’re asking me about my hookup habits, and honestly, i don’t take people to my house if i’m going to hook up with them. i just do it in the bathroom or wherever we are.”

you raise your eyebrows, and smile. “oh wow, so tell me, are groupies real? do you really have girls following your band around, or is that an 80s myth?”

you were honestly slightly suprised he didn’t take people home to his house. in the short amount of time you’ve known each other, that doesn’t seem like something he would do.

harry laughs a little and shakes his head as he walks, still having to slow down a bit so you can keep up with his long legs.

“that’s like… one part myth and one part real. yeah of course girls like us, but we don’t just have them following us around everywhere, that's a bit extreme”

he smiles and runs his hand through his wet curls as you walk down the street together. “i’ve had girls follow me home a few times after shows and stuff, but they aren’t really what they’re cracked up to be in the movies”

“oh really?”

“mhm you’re much prettier.”

“yeah sure…”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you and harry are laying on the floor of his music room, listening to a pink floyd album he put on. the needle scratched back and forth on the vinyl, the music filling the room as the two of you lay on the floor. harry had a fuzzy carpet on the floor that was fun to run your fingers through as you lay there listening.

the two of you are, both of you laying on your backs, staring up at his ceiling and listening to the music. you had expected him to be more hyper and excited, but he was actually very calm and… sweet?

harry was laying with his hands behind his head, his hair fanned out around his head as he stared at the ceiling. a small smile was on his lips as he listened to the music, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying this.

he glances over at you, seeing you looking at the ceiling, smiling lightly as the music plays. “what do you think of this album? it’s one of my favorites”

you look over at him and look into his green eyes. god he was attractive.

you listen to the music for a moment before replying. “it’s good… like i said… i’m a pop girl, but this album is…. pretty? if that makes sense, the sounds are pretty.”

he laughs a little, finding it cute that you called the music pretty. he looks back up at the ceiling, his smile getting wider as he responded. “yeah, pink floyd’s music is pretty…”

he glances over at you again, speaking teasingly. “you’re kind of pretty too.”

your cheeks turn pink and you can feel your heart rate slightly increase when he said you were pretty. why were you getting flustered? you had barely known this guy for 12 hours and already he was calling you pretty.

you roll over onto your side, laying on your stomach, looking at him, still blushing a little. “kind of?”

harry smirks at you as you turn over on your stomach to look at him, your hair hanging down.

he rolls over on his stomach, mimicking your position to look at you, his smirk still on his face as he replies. his head propped up on his hand so he can be face-to-face with you. “yeah very pretty”

you feel your cheeks get pinker as he compliments you, but you try to remain casual and not get flustered. it was hard though, he was laying facing you right now, and the look in his eyes as he looked at you made it hard to focus.

you shake your head as he says you’re pretty, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “yeah, yeah you’re pretty too.”

harry gasps dramatically and looks at you with a grin. “oh i’m flattered, darling.”

you smile and nod, looking into his pretty green eyes. “yeah you should be.”

he grins again with the smile that makes his eyes crinkle. please kill me he’s adorable- the album stops as the record meets the end, and harry stands up. he walks over to the record stand and changes the record out. “are you flirting with me?”

you sit up, still sitting on the floor of the music room, watching him change the record, then processing what he just said. you smile and shrug, bringing your knees to your chest as you sit on his shaggy carpet. this room was so comfortable, like the rest of his apartment. he had little trinkets everywhere, pillows and bankets in every corner, and warm lighting from his string lights filled each dark area.

“oh… so you invite me to your concert, take me to get pizza, invite me to your house, and I’M the one that’s flirting?”

harry laughs a little, turning back around after placing a Jeff Buckley record on the machine. he walks back over to the carpet and sits down right next to you. he looks at you with his bright green eyes, smiling as he speaks. “mmm, you have a point”

he reaches behind him and grabs multiple pillows and blankets. “alright settle in, love, this is the prettiest album yet.”

you smile as he grabs pillows and blankets from behind him and starts handing them to you. so he was going to get comfortable too.

you take the pillows and blankets from him and start situating them on the ground next to harry so you can lay down. “alright, if this album isn’t pretty, this is the first and last time we’re hanging out.”

harry laughs and smiles again, loving the way you banter with him. he grabs his own blankets and pillows and gets comfortable next to you on the floor.

he smiles and lays down, getting comfortable under his blankets. “trust me, jeff buckley’s album is absolutely beautiful. it’s gonna break you, make you cry, throw up, all that good stuff.”

you smile as he jokingly describes the album, trying to imagine what about it would cause you to throw up. you lay down in your own little nest of blankets and pillows, getting comfy in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from string lights hanging across the ceiling and the moon shining in from the window.

you look over at a comfy looking harry who’s smiling at you, seemingly more relaxed and sleepy laid out on the floor.

it only takes three minutes for the two of you to completely pass out on the floor of his music room.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 8 hours later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you slowly wake up, confused for a moment and wondering where you were. but then you remember that you had fallen asleep in harry’s music room, and now the morning sun was shining through the window, illuminating the room and waking you up.

when you open your eyes, you see harry still sound asleep next to you, curled up under his many blankets and pillows, looking adorable as he breathed softly. it also reminds you that you’re a complete idiot for letting yourself fall asleep to a complete stranger.

you lay there for a moment, admiring the way harry peacefully slept next to you. he looked like an actual rock star, his hair fanned out on the pillows, his tattoos peaking out through through the sleeves and collar of his shirt. you were still baffled at the fact that less than 24 hours ago you didn’t even know he existed, and now here you were.

you look over at him again, studying his sleeping face.

the room is still and quiet as you look at his calm sleeping face, your eyes roaming over his long lashes, his sharp jawline, his plump lips. what is wrong with you. you’re laying there watching a sleeping man, a man you had only known for a day.

you look away from him, trying to remind yourself that this is just a man you met on the street and not a dreamy love interest in a romantic movie. you sigh in frustration as you remember that you had slept through work. hopefully phoebe would cover for you….

you sit, up rolling your shoulders, they were sore from laying on the floor all night. you grab your phone from your pocket to check the time. great. you had slept through work, it was already 10AM. you also had several missed texts from phoebe and your boss wondering where the hell you were. this is gonna be hard to explain.

whatever. that’s for another time when you’re more awake and less infatuated with a British man you hardly know.

you rub your face sleepily, yawning softly as harry starts to wakeup.

harry starts to shift around beside you, making noise and groaning softly as he starts waking up. he sits up slowly, looking around the room, taking in his surroundings. he runs a hand through his messy hair, then glances over at you.

“morning, pretty girl” he says in a groggy morning voice, grinning at you as he stretches his arms over his head.

your heart does a little jump as you hear his morning voice, which you’re starting to decide is a million times sexier than his normal voice.

”morning, pretty boy” you respond, stretching your own arms over your head and letting out a yawn.

you look down and notice you’re still wearing the uncomfortable mini skirt and tanktop from last night. “do you have something i can change into? i do NOT want to do the walk of shame back to my apartment in this.”

harry smiles as he sees you sit up and stretch, he also notices you’re still wearing the clothes from last night… and that the tiny skirt and tiny tank are a sight to see first thing in the morning.

he shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to earth, and responds. “yeah ‘course. i’m sure i’ve got some clothes that will fit you” he glances down at your clothes again before standing up.

“although i’m not sure it can be considered the walk of shame if we didn’t do anything shameful, yet.” he smirks and walks out of the music room and down the hall towards his bedroom.

you roll your eyes, but smile a little at his last comment, knowing it was true. sure, you’d slept in the same room, but you hadn’t done anything shameful… yet. hopefully you wouldn’t end up doing anything shameful, this guy was turning your brain into mush.

you crawl out of your pile of blankets and pillows, then get up and follow him out the room and down the hall to his bedroom.

you both walk into his bedroom, which has a similar look to his music room. it’s not a huge bedroom, it has a queen sized bed, a large dresser, and a door that leads to the bathroom.

he goes over to the dresser and starts rifling through the drawers, looking for something you can change into. he looks over his shoulder and looks at your outfit again. “can’t lie, i like the outfit, but you’re probably not very comfortable in it.”

he smiles and tosses you light washed jeans and a band tee. “you’re a fashion girl, i’m sure you can make anything look good.”

you caught the pants and tshirt he threw at you, holding them up to look at them. he was right, you might be able to make this look good, these jeans were cute and the band tee looked vintage.

you smile. “i’ll attempt to look good in your clothes.” you glance toward the bathroom. “do you mind if i change in there?”

he nods. “yeah, ‘course love. bathroom’s right in there” he motions to a door across the room.

after about 30 minutes of getting ready, arguing with harry about needing to go to work, and eventually caving because… well beacause he’s hot…. you and harry were walking down the street towards a coffee shop.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes earlier ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“no harry! i had fun, but i need to go to work and apologize for sleeping in.” you shake your head as you stand in the bathroom, washing your face of the makeup from the night before.

“uh no you don’t”

you roll your eyes and look back at the mucisian. “uh yes i do.”

“why? you’re already six hours late, might as well just tell them you’re sick.” he smiles like a teenager, standing behind you in the bathroom as you got ready. it’s weird, being this comfortable around someone after you’ve only known them for 24 hours.

“yeah but-”

“no buts”

“yes buts! i have responsibilities.”

“i’ll buy you donuts and we can hang out more! that sounds like way more fun whatever fashion bs they would have you doing.”

“…”

“fine.”

“… :)”

“stop smiling, dumbass.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

harry is walking down the sidewalk next to you, taking a bite of his donut and sipping his black coffee, watching you as you both walk. you look cute in the clothes he gave you, cute and relaxed. he loves the way the jeans are cuffed at the bottom and the faded band tee fits you perfectly.

he glances at you, smiling as he speaks. “see? ditching work was so much better. you can have more fun with me, instead of working in a boring old office”

you roll your eyes as he smiles and speaks. “yeah, because hanging out with the random man i met yesterday is so much more fun than the job that pays my rent and feeds me”

you try to hide the smile that creeps up on your face, you have no idea why you’re falling so effortlessly into this banter with him, but it just felt natural.

harry grins as you respond, loving the way you banter with him. he can’t stop smiling whenever he sees that pretty smile appear on your face.

he nods jokingly as you mention the job that feeds you and pays your rent. “yeah exactly! who cares if you don’t get paid this month, im sure being unemployed is a completely valid excuse for missing work!”

he takes another sip of his coffee, looking at you. “i mean we’re basically having a date, which is way more entertaining than whatever you were doing at work”

you roll your eyes again, smiling as he teases you about having a “date”. it isn’t a date, its just the two of you hanging out, like friends. yeah…

“sure, this is a date” you sarcastically respond, taking a bite of your donut. “a date consisting of two people ditching work and eating breakfast food. don’t you have a concert later? you should be practicing.”

he grins a little as you sarcastically agree that this is a “date”, that means you’ve acknowledged it. “yeah, i should be, but i’d rather hang out with you.”

harry stops and grabs a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag. “besides, i can practice later. today is our day. i’m marking it in my calender, october 16th, 2003, the day we became best friends.”

you try to suppress your smile as you hear him say “our day”. he’s way too charming for his own good, you think to yourself.

you watch as he lights his cigarette and puffs on it, the smoke billowing from his pouty lips. a little part of you hates how you think he looks hot as he stands there smoking, but you try to ignore it.

you roll your eyes a little, trying to pretend this isn’t affecting you. “yeah, us ditching work and eating donuts is sure the start of a great friendship”

he smiles again as he sees you roll your eyes. cute. he thinks to himself as he watches you eat your donut in small bites.

he lets out a puff of smoke as he brings the cigarette to his lips again, looking at you. “you say that like ditching work and hanging out isn’t the best bonding activity for the start of a friendship.”

he grins as he starts walking again, glancing over at you. “we’ve had a jam session, we’ve shared sleeping quarters, and now a proper meal. what more could we possibly bond over?”

you shake your head and smile a little as he responds.

“well you’re wrong,” you say. “i’ll do anything for donuts.”

you take another bite of the donut and glance over at him as he walks next to you, watching his curls bounce as he moves. it really was a good day, you would never say it out loud, but a ditch day with him was the most therapeutic thing you’d done in months,

the two of you walk through central park for a few more minutes before reaching a bench. you sit down and sip your coffee quietly, warming up a little bit.

he laughs and shakes his head as you mention you would do anything for a donut. “yeah yeah, admit that i’m right.”

he follows you over and sits on the bench, letting out a tiny cough as he flicks his cigarette into the trash. he glances over at you as you drink your coffee, you look cute sitting there sipping coffee in his clothes.

he plops down on the bench next to you as he leans back, letting his body rest comfortably. “you know, you’re very relaxing, it’s nice.”

you glance over at him as you sit down, raising your eyebrows. “i’m relaxing?”

you look at him incredulously. “i’m pretty sure you’re the one with the relaxing british accent”

he grins a little as you say he’s the one who’s relaxing. he smirks a little. “just because i’ve got an english accent doesn’t mean im relaxing. i could be annoying, ya know”

you laugh and roll your eyes. “oh please, everyone likes an english accent. they’re soothing” you say this with a small smile, knowing damn well you love his accent.

he smiles and looks over at you through his sunglasses, he just felt so comfortable at the moment. “well i’m glad you like my accent.”

you roll your eyes and laugh a little at his comment. his accent was nice. no, it was more than that; it was sexy, especially when he sang or spoke softly.

he looks relaxed as he sits there on the bench next to you. you watch as he closes his eyes behind his glasses, taking in the cool breeze.

you sit back against the bench, watching people walk around the park, kids playing, dogs running, adults working out. it was all very peaceful.

“thanks for not being creepy last night or anything…”

he opens his eyes and glances over at you as you lean back against the bench as well. “course love. i wasn’t gonna try anything, you just looked like you needed a good sleep. but of course, i’m happy to do anything when you’re awake.”

he smiles teasingly and leans back against the bench with his eyes closed.

the next hour is spent with the two of you walking around the park mindlessly, talking about random things. harry told you about england, you told him about your job and your friends. he told you about his bandmates, you told him about your cat. it was the most relaxing day you could remember having for a long time.

“but yeah my cat is the most an-”

suddenly harry stops walking and looks at you. without any warning or hesitation, he gently grabs your face and pulls you towards him, planting a kiss against your lips.

your eyes widen in surprise as he kisses you. you’re in shock, freezing up for a second as you feel his lips against yours.

the kiss is gentle, but there’s a firmness from harry’s part that makes it feel like he’s been wanting to do this for hours. he brushes his fingers through your hair as he kisses you, bringing you closer to him as he does.

you’re still shocked, but you instinctively begin to kiss him back. the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, all of it makes you lose your senses. you bring your hands up and grip onto his arms, holding on tightly as you kiss him back.

“this is stupid and you can laugh at me, but i think i’m more comfortable with you after a day together, then some people i’ve known my entire life.”

you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you look up at him.

“yeah i,” you start before hesitating, “i feel the same way.” that’s an understatement

he smiles gently as you say you feel the same way, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. he scoops you up, pulling you so you’re legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s holding his arms under your bottom to support you.

“yeah?”

you wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you up, looking at him. “yeah, it’s,” stupid, crazy, insane, “cool.”

harry grins and kisses you again before he starts walking down the street, running a bit to make you laugh, until he finds an empty ally. he pushes you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his as he presses his lips to yours.

as he presses his lips to yours, the world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in this moment. the cool brick wall behind you is a gentle pressure against your back, a reminder of the physical world that's still spinning, even as your senses are consumed by harry's kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, and you feel your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer.

the sound of the city fades into the background, replaced by the gentle hum of harry's contented sigh as he deepens the kiss. his fingers dig gently into the flesh of your bottom, holding you up, supporting you as you wrap yourself around him.

as harry's lips move against yours, he mutters "so. fucking. pretty." in between kisses, desperate to get closer to you. his body presses against yours, the heat of his chest radiating through your clothes.

his hands roam over your body, gripping your waist, running up your back, and threading through your hair. the feeling of his fingers in your hair feels amazing, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss.

harry pulls away and looks down at you with a flushed expression.

“back to my place?”

“yes. now.”

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

oops that was really long, i got caught up. this isn’t really proofread so sorry if there were mistakes. this is literally my favorite story i’ve ever written, so i hope you guys liked it too! (requests are open)

-💋