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mirohlayo · 7 months

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THE ONLY ONE | LN4

( lando and you are on a break because of an argument. but he needs you back. )

warning : angst, fluff, some jealousy, happy ending ofc

word count : 5.1k

note : the longest thing i have ever written with 5k words 😭 pretty proud of it, hope it's not too long lol

!! english not my first language !!

lando sighs as he watches for around the 30th time your instagram story. it was a picture of your outfit of the day, but the little detail - or big detail for him - was the unknown man standing next to you and his clothes matching with yours. lando can't help but rewatch again and again your story throughout all the day. of course, he loves your outfit. he thinks everything suits you, either an elegant dress or just a big hoodie. it was not the problem. but why the fuck your outfit matched with the one of an other man than him ? he just don't understand. usually, he would be and was the only one to match with your outfit. it was kind of your love language, and lando loves it. every time you asked him to wear the same clothes as you, he never refused the offer and even lend you one of his hoodie. it is something very special for him, so when he saw you doing this with an other man than him, he really didn't like it. actually, he hated it.

and the worse ? he is once again looking at your story, laying in your shared bed in his monaco apartment, clinging to your pillow. oh poor him. there is still the scent of you and your shampoo filled in the pillow you used to sleep on when you passed the nights with your loved one. he's holding onto it anytime he's missing you, which is basically every minutes. he smells your fragrance, finding so much comfort in it. and he would also imagines you next to him, cuddling his body and playing with his hair. but these are just memories now. it seems long time ago for him, when the last time you saw each other was actually around 3 weeks now. but it was not a good last time. completely the opposite. and he curses himself when he remembers what happened that day.

"fuck, who is this... thing ? guy ?" he says, throwing his phone over the blankets. for real, who was this man next to you ? have you already forget him and moved on ? but no, you guys are still together. theoretically. yes, the last time you talked to each other was during an argument, but when you left him all alone in his apartment, you didn't say you broke up with him. you just left, furious and mostly hurt. you were on a break. you didn't talk together since the argument, didn't send any text messages that you both would always send every hours because of how much you missed each other. 3 weeks without any contacts. but the thing you don't know is lando still looking at your social medias accounts everyday, missing you dearly. sometimes he hesitates, if he should like or not your stories.

every days, every hours, every minutes, every seconds are hurtful without you. he's still playing again and again in his head the last smile he captured of you. he is missing you so fucking bad. and the only person he can blame is himself. yes, he is the one to blame at. he was the one who started the argument and the one to say the most rude and hurtful words. and he feels so much guilty about it. he can't stand the fact he was the one who hurt and upset the most precious person to his eyes. everything is his fault. and now he thinks he's just a fool who don't deserve you. it pains so much his heart, and he's getting sick of it. he needs you again. he needs to see you again. he needs to kiss and hug you again.

he let a scream out, overthinking about the situation. he grabs his phone and opens the text app. he clicks on your name, and starts typing something. but what ? hello ? hi ? can we talk together ? no. he just can't send you some stupid messages and thinks everything will be perfect again like 3 weeks ago. what was he thinking ? he sighs longly and decides to take a shower to stop thinking about you. but he damn knows that's impossible because every single thing reminds him of you.

like taking showers. you would often showered with him because he loves showering together. washing your hair and hugging you to warm your freezing body meanwhile the cold water was turning hot. and then after you doing his haircare routine, styling his damp curls while he was just looking at you with adoration. or when you guys would spend your evenings together, cuddling close under a woolen plaid on the couch, watching a movie until one of you two would fall asleep. or when you cooked some recipes and it ended up in a food battle. god he's craving of those moments again. he really needs to do something...

race day. it is sunday today and of course lando have to race. he don't know it, but you are in the paddock club. yes, even if you're on a break in your relationship, you couldn't miss a race and decided to attend it. those last 3 weeks, you didn't miss a single one races. you didn't attend them, because you were still hurt by lando's words and you didn't want his fans to see you present there, so you just watched the races and your papaya driver on the tv. but you missed so much seeing him in reality, so you attend today's race. of course, you are wearing glasses and a cap to not be recognizable. and you're also sitting in a hidden corner.

lando has no clue that you are here, watching his car moving around. and you have no clue that he is thinking about you and the way he's going to apologize to you. so as the race passes, you keep an eye on his car. your heart and your being feels weird. the amount of love you have for him is still here, and it never shaded away for the past 3 weeks. not a single bit. but of course you are still upset and hurt. the words he said to you broke you into tears. you love him so much, never you loved someone like that. so when he told you those mean things, you felt weak. and very very sad.

in a blink, the race is already finished. fans wave at the drivers who are celebrating the podium with their race team. you smile, admiring the place. you would be lying if you said you didn't missed races. you were always happy to attend one. maybe for the race, or maybe just to spend more time with lando. by the way, he didn't finish on the podium but still get p4. and despite the fact you are still gloomy, you are proud of him, like usually. because he's just the best after all.

now you have to leave the track. of course, you would have love to stay and join your favorite driver, but he don't know you are here and you don't want him to see you. because nobody has already apologize. and it's been 3 weeks since you haven't seen and spoken to him. it would be awkwardly embarrassing. so you have to take precautions and be prudent to not be seen by any mclaren team member. you go down the balcony's stairs, lowering your head and hiding your face with the cap. of course it has to be an orange cap, because it is the only hat you have. an other way to be even more discreet, huh. but it works well. you are now in the paddock area, just in front of the mclaren one. you recognize a lot of engineers and people who work with your boyfriend and you hope deep inside you they don't see and recognize you. but it seems like you failed it.

"y/n ?" oh. oh... it's not just anyone. it's not just a random maclaren team member. no. it is him. it's his voice. his voice that you missed hearing. it's lando norris. you stop, and don't know what to do. and don't know how to react. so you stay like this, turning your back on him. "y/n ? is it you ?" you close your eyes and exhale, you're not really in the mood to talk to him. the only person you shouldn't meet is now facing you. you turn around and keep your head low, you don't have the force to look at him.

you just remove your glasses and put them in your pocket. "why are you here ?" he asks confused, but you can tell he's concerned about it. "to... support you, i guess ?". you finally give up and cross his gaze. and it aches your heart. he looks tired, i mean of course he just finished a 2 hours race but still he looks even tired than usually. his face is pale, doesn't have much color. and his eyes are so tiny, so many emotions in them. "oh ok. huhh thank you...". he answers awkwardly. you bite your lower lip, the atmosphere is, well, very awkward yes. "so, how are you?" you ask to get rid of this tension.

how he is ? fuck this question. he doesn't even want to answer. does he really need to say that he blames himself every day, that he can't sleep because of how much he cries thinking about you, that he skips dinners because of how bad he's feeling ? he never felt like that with any person. it is the first time his whole being aches that much. but he can't tell you that, he knows you will not forgive him that easily. "good. and you ?" he says, avoiding your gaze. "good too" you hum sotfly. he knows damn well that's a lie, because even your tone betrayed you. he tries to take a look at you. his heart squeezes in pain, the view in front of him is heartbreaking. you look as tired as him. and as pale as him too. where is the smile he loves so much gone ? the shining sparkles in your pretty eyes ?

he fights the urge to pull you in his arms. but he's the one at fault, he can only blame himself. "hum, i'll go now" "no." he answers back to back and you look at him confused and surprised. "i-i mean you're going back to monaco ?" he stutters. "no, i'll join a friend of mine" you says coldly. "oh... ok..." god he sounds so sad, it pains you. you struggles to not hug him. because yes, you're hurt, but you still love him like crazy. "well... oh and good job today" you quickly say and starts to leave, not wanting to stay more here. you don't turn back, but lando is now smiling softly, watching you fade away in the crowd. "thank you, love" he whisper to himself.

he sighs, blinking slowly. now memories are coming back, and he remembers what happened that night, when everything went wrong in only one second.

- -

you were very tired. a hard day of work. so when you came home, in your lover's apartment in monaco, all you wanted was to follow him around like a puppy and cuddle him. you were so clingy and so needy. it was rare, very very rare for you to be like that, all clingy and needy, so when that night you doubled it, it was kind of surprising and shocking. usually, lando loves when you get clingy, when you want him all for yourself. because it not happens often, so of course he cherishes these moments. but that night, it was different. he didn't like the way you acted with him. you kept following him around the apartment, touching him gently and innocently. like grabbing his hand, placing soft kisses on his cheeks, back hugs. you just wanted his attention. you just wanted your lover. but he didn't seems he felt the same about you. first, he didn't care much. he just didn't returned back your affection. but the more you were getting clingy, the more he was getting angry. he started to hate it.

you tried to kiss him on the lips and instead of kissing you back roughly, he turned his head and your lips pressed against his cheek. you paused for a second, confused. you frowned and tried to understand why he did that. why your lover didn't return back your hugs ? your kisses ? why he acted like you didn't even exist ? you placed your hand on his forearm but he shifted. your heart squeezed, why was he like this ? usually, he was the neediest one and the one getting even clingier. you were lost.

"baby, why you don't kiss me back ?" you asked softly. lando sighed and he seemed annoyed. he didn't even dare to reply. which hurt you. you moved and stopped before him. "something is wrong ? something bothers you ?" you tried to understand why he was in this mood, you wanted to help him talk about whatever bothered his thoughts. but you didn't expect to hear that. "yes, you." he hissed. your face deformed. did you hear well ? "w-what ?" you stuttered. "you. it's you. you fucking annoy me". you blinked and took some few steps back. your being hurt, your heart was broken. "what do you mean ?"

"you're so clingy and needy and i fucking hate it. stop being like that and stop touching me. you're so annoying" he threw these words at you, giving you a death look as his furrowed his brows. oh pain was real. you felt weak, you thought it was all a dream. but no, your lover was here, saying harsh words to you and kept hurting your poor little heart. and while you tried to understand his behavior - because he would never talk bad to you like that - a bulb lighted in your head.

it was qualifying. you remembered lando's week went bad and hard for him. bad practices, no luck, his slow car, his poor performance... nothing went right. and you knew how much f1 had an important impact on him and his mental health. he was so hard on himself and sometimes he would overthink about why he sucks at racing. this explains why he was acting like a shit with you. you knew it was that. he didn't want to do a bad race tomorrow. so instead of calm down and talk about it with you, he let out all his anger on you. it was like he took you as a punching ball and kept punching you, until you broke in pieces. you understand how he felt, racing is his job, he has to be the best. but let out his anger on your poor person even though you did nothing wrong, you couldn't take that. yes, he had the right to be angry and annoyed and whatever, but being harsh towards you won't make his performance better. so you tried to talk with him. or maybe argue with him.

"lando, please. i know you don't mean what you say." he stared at you and then walk closer to you. his gaze get through yours, and a storm appeared in it. "yes, i mean it y/n. you're getting on my nerves and i don't like that. maybe i don't like you too". wow. it was harsh. it was like getting stabbed again and again. he don't like you ? he really meant it ? now you were about to cry. tears filled your eyes, and you breathed harder to not let them run. and of course lando noticed it. "what, really ? are you going to cry ? you're the one who started it all and you think you can cry ? gosh you're so pathetic y/n". you shook your head and looked away because you knew soon your tears will drop. was he saying bullshit now ? "oh, you're really crying" he made fun of you and your statement. but you couldn't stand here and just cry. you had to speak up, to explain how you felt and explain that letting out his anger on you was not the solution. "please lando stop. i know it's because of racing that you're acting like that. you can be upset and annoyed but it can't justify the fact you burst your emotions on me. i did nothing wrong, i just want to help yo-" "it's not about racing !!!!" he yelled at you.

you almost jumped because of how much he scared you. he never yelled at you. never ever. he was so different from the lando you knew. lando was the perfect, caring, kindness boyfriend. who was so in love with you. not someone who yell and hurt you. "you can't even see it's you the problem. i don't need your shitty cuddles and hugs and everything. i never wanted you and i don't even need you. you sucks". "lando pleas-" "i wish i had never met you". and then he passed you to crawl on the couch, turning on the tv. he looked like he didn't even care about you anymore. your heart cried as your being hurt. the best thing that have ever came into your life just said he wish he had never met you. how hurtful it is. and you thought it was the race who made him angry like that, but it seemed like it's not the reason anymore. just him speaking maybe the truth and what he thinks about you. and you wished you were dreaming. but no, it was not.

you never had an argument with him. or when something was wrong, you would always talk about it. but it was so different. the person you loved the most broke you. pain, yeah, pain filled your body. it ached badly. you just wanted to leave. run far far away. so he couldn't hurt you anymore. "i'm leaving. i can't stay with you anymore so i'll go" "then go. get out of my apartment. i would be better off without you". it was one sentence too many. your tears ran down your cheeks, your face. you couldn't stop them. so you just leave, shutting the door behind you, as the one who broke you started to realize little by little what happened. and it was when guilt started to kick him.

"so fucking dumb you are" max says again, cursing at his friend's behavior towards you. "i know. don't remind me. i'm such an idiot" lando says again, cursing at himself. he is laying on his bed, re-watching your new instagram stories while max is sitting on the other side of the bed. "and for the fucking 40th time please stop looking at her stories. you've been doing this since this morning." max states, and try to grab his friend's phone who dodge it effortlessly. f1 driver reflexes yes. "then you stop sitting on this side of the bed. y/n's perfume will disappear because of you and your stinky scent". max rolls his eyes and finally stand up. "you're miserable".

lando sighs, and throws his phone over the blankets. "max help me... i'm so fucking lost without her." "but it's your own fault. you're the one to blame at". he shrugs and shake his head. "i know it's my fault max. don't you know i'm literally dying every single day because of how much i miss her ? that i'm crying because i will never find someone like her ? i'm in a shitty situation and i don't feel well because she's not with me. look, i'm in a pitiful state even though we did not even broken. what will i be like if we break up for real ? i don't even want to imagine it because i already know it will be awful." he passes his hand in his hair, ruffling them. "i've never felt like that about any exes, anyone. it's the first time i suffer like this, i don't know what to do...". max looks at his friend and his gaze softens. he hates seeing his best friend suffer, he can't stand it. "lando i can help you. and i will help you. but you have to promise me that you-" "SHE TEXTED ME !!!" lando suddenly screams.

"what ??" max jumps on the bed and sit next to him. "MAX !! SHE SENT ME A MESSAGE" lando is going crazy, he is just shocked. he don't even realizes what happens, he thinks he's dreaming. his heart is beating faster now. but max sighs as he reads the text you just sent, a simple "i'm coming to pick up some things in the evening". it is more a negative message because it means you're not staying in your boyfriend's apartment, but still lando is relieved by this one text. "lando, she's not staying. she's coming to pick up things because she don't want to live with you" "but it's her first text since 3 weeks ago ! she thinks about me too!"

max shakes his head and closes his eyes because he's getting a headache. "mate you don't get it" he says. but his friend don't listen, he is too focused on his phone. because he knows he's going to see her girlfriend soon, and he knows it will be the moment to apologize, to show her how much he cares about her. "max, help me. give me advices please. i'm listening". and then the two would spend the whole afternoon together, the streamer giving advices to the driver. lando is prepared, he don't want to loose his chance.

and then someone knocks on the door. he knows it is you because it's now around 6pm. max left 30 minutes ago. so it means you two will be alone together. lando almost tumbles because he ran towards the door at the speed of his mclaren livery. he takes a breath and opens the door.

oh.

your pretty face. the first thing he saw. his heart squeezes at the sight of you. your eyes, scanning his face and his body while he does the same for you. he can't believes you're standing in from of him, even though he saw you last week on sunday. but he's feeling worried now. you look super tired. dark circles under your tired eyes, your cheekbones more visible. you are as terrible as him. nobody dare to talk, and you start to feel awkward. "can i enter or maybe i just stay here until tomorrow ?" you say. "o-oh yes, come..." he shifts and you walk inside the apartment. and a weird feeling seizes you. every rooms of the apartment holds a memory from you and your boyfriend. the kitchen where he would cooks your breakfast, the living room where you would play karaokes. you feel nostalgic. and remember these memories makes you want to stay, to forgive lando, to be back together like before. but you put yourself together and fight this urge. you came for your things, not for him. or maybe it was also your intention. "how are you ?" he asks cautiously. "good. what about you ?" you reply. "good too". no, lies. from both of you.

you make your way to the bedroom. the first thing you see is your pillow above lando's one, as is he was sleeping on it. and the fact is that he was truly sleeping on it, your scent lulled him every nights. you put your suitcase on the bed and open it, you don't want to waste time. but there is a problem. and it's a big one. you have to sleep with lando tonight. not maybe in the same bed, but still you have to pass the night in his, well your shared apartment. those past 3 weeks, you were hosting at one of your friend's house. when lando asked you to moved in with him, you sold your old apartment. that's why you had nowhere to go, and lando was so worried about it but you weren't aware of it of course.

but your friend's parents were passing through and decided to pay a visit to your friend's house. you didn't want to intrude, so instead of worrying your friend you said you will buy an hotel room. what a coincidence you are now in your boyfriend apartment, sweating because you are scared to ask him to stay. so waiting for the fateful moment, you keep packing up things. you can also feel lando staring at you and his intense look burns your cheeks. "do you need anything ? you want something to eat ?" he asks sudenly, and you can hear he's caring about you by his tone. "no i'm okay, thank you" you simply answer.

your heart start pounding faster, and you sweat even more. god why were you so shy and scared ? he is your boyfriend after all, why would he refuse ? you play nervously with your necklace, the one lando gave you for your first date. you never took it off since now. "are you... okay ?" your boyfriend gives you a concerned look, he noticed you stopped packing your clothes. you take a deep breath and move to face him. "hum... can i..." your words don't want to leave your mouth. "can i stay here ? does it bothers you if i sleep here tonight ? if so then it's okay i will fin-" "no stay please." he rushes back. you look at him surprised. "i-i mean it doesn't bother me at all. you can sleep here". you give him a small smile and a little thank you. he smiles back, but unlike you it is a big, happy smile. the exact smile you love seeing from him. "huh, you can sleep on the bed, i'll go with the couch". he adds and you just nod.

lando just keep staring at you. of course, it disturbs you because sometimes you are putting useless things in your suitcase. he takes advantage of it to admire you. your body's silhouette he loved hugging, your shiny and soft hair he loved styling, your presence and its hold on him. you truly are precious to him. he knows he can't live without you in his life, it's just impossible. he needs you. not tomorrow, not in the next few hours. no. he needs you now. right now. he just can't stand the fact you're right here and can't kiss him or push him on the bed to cuddle him. he approaches you, and gently grabs your hand. surprisingly, you don't remove it and he melts down in the touch. "y/n... please listen to me". you sigh longly and turn your face to cross his eyes. you are also tired of it. even if he hurts you so bad, you can't stay far away from him because you need him as he needs you. "i'm listening". he strokes the back of your hand and takes your chin in his fingers to lift up your head, forcing you to look at him.

"i'm so fucking sorry y/n. so so sorry. you have no idea how much i blame myself and i feel so guilty every day. i'm the worst boyfriend ever, i don't even deserve you. every single minutes i keep thinking about what i said that day and if i could i would go back in time. because i regret so much those hurtful and cruel words i said to you. and you have to believe me, i didn't meant not a single word. i can't stand the fact that i'm the one who hurt you when i said i would punch the person who would did it". you try to reply back but he's so into it now. "please let me finish. i love you. i'm so madly and deeply in love with you. if you ever ask me to bring down the stars and the moon for you i'll do it. i would do anything for you. i love you. i have never loved someone like that. even with my exes, i never felt like that before, i never wanted someone so bad than you. you're the only one for me. nobody can replace you y/n. you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and i'll never let anything and anyone taking you from me. i need you in my life and i want you in my life because i can't imagine it without you. when i said i would be better without you, i so fucking lay. it's completely the opposite, i'm nothing without you. i would do anything for you to forgive me. because you're the only one, and you'll always be the only one."

tears are now running down his cheeks. and yours too. gosh he just let everything out, he has never been so desperate over someone. you can't stand it anymore and hug him tightly. he melts down in your hug and squeezes you. oh he missed you so much. he hides his wet face in the crook of your neck and keeps crying like a baby. you rub his back slowly and place a soft kiss on his hair. "i love you too lando. i'm so in love with you and i also need you." you simply say, because you know he already knows you're infatuated with him. and you guys stayed like that for fifteen minutes, lando keeping his arms around you. he don't want to let you go. he's so afraid of it now. "let's go cuddle in the bed. or maybe you still hate it" you tease him gently. "no. please. cuddle me. be clingy and needy, i'm only asking for it. don't go away from me." you two crumble into the bed and put the blankets over your bodies. lando curls up against you, his grip tight on you that you can barely breathe. he hides once again his head in the crook of your neck and one of his hand slips under your shirt, stroking your back. you start playing with his curls, something he loves and craves very much.

"i love you so much my baby" he suddenly says. you smile and peck his side profile. "me too lan". he lift up his head and your looks cross. he can't help it and a silly smile takes place on his lips. and he leans in, kissing you softly, your warm lips against his. he missed kissing you, so he really struggles to pull back. "besides i was such a liar. i'm the most needy and clingy one." you laugh hard and kiss him once again. he returns back the kiss and traces his way to your neck, planting soft kisses on it. "no for real, i would literally die without your cuddles. and just without you actually". you giggle and, you spend the rest of the night together. showering together again, cooking together again, playing karaokes together again. and of course, he didn't slept on the couch. but in your warm embrace which he's sure he'll never leave.

#f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #ln4 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #lando norris x you

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humanpurposes · 7 months

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Mine All Mine

Michael doesn't have a lot of friends, nor does he want them. Now he thinks he might have found his perfect match, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away

Main Masterlist

Michael Gavey x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, Michael Gavey being a little shit (affectionately), possessive behaviour (yk the drill here)

Words: 7k

A/n: This ended up leaning into more of a cuter side, I definitely wanna do something creepier with him at some point! Also available to read on AO3.

He gets to the room early, before the tutor has even arrived. It’s his first tutorial of the year and his first ever at Oxford. He stands straight with his head up and his hands unmoving, a picture of neutrality. He has his problem sheet in his satchel and runs through the questions in his head, not because he needs to, not because he doubts himself, but simply because he can.

He doesn’t even like maths all that much, but he’s always been good at it. He had considered doing something a little less straightforward, physics or economics, but then what would be the point in getting into Oxford to be anything less than perfect?

He knows his tutor’s name from his schedule, Stephen Breyer. He arrives only a few minutes later and they go inside. The tutorial room is small, with three of the four walls covered in bookshelves. In the centre of the room there is a table, an armchair on one side and a small sofa on the other.

Michael takes the seat closest to the door. It puts him in a slightly more direct line of sight with Stephen. It also means his tutorial partner will inevitably have to climb over his legs to sit down and the thought amuses him.

“How are you finding it so far?” Stephen asks, unpacking a thermos flask and a notebook from his bag.

“It?” Michael repeats.

Stephen pauses and looks at him, slightly bewildered. “Well, the course, the college, Oxford. All of it.”

“Right,” Michael says. He takes his time taking out a pencil and his problem sheet before placing them on the table. He sits back against the sofa and rubs his lips together in thought.

He supposes it’s been exactly as he had expected. Lectures have been fairly straightforward, Lincoln college looks the same as it had in the prospectus, and so far, most of the people seem insufferable. So many of them have no sense of urgency, no drive to truly succeed because to them, Oxford is a rite of passage rather than an earned privilege. He’s met maybe one person he’d consider worthy of his time, and even then, Oliver Quick is only a literature student. He might as well get a degree in overthinking.

Stephen is looking at him like he is still expecting an answer. Michael stares back. He’s never been one to bother with smalltalk.

“Alright then,” Stephen says, then nods to the empty place on the sofa. “Do you know if–”

The door opens and a girl walks in, closing it gently behind her. “Sorry I’m late,” she says, eyes flickering around the room and settling on the space beside Michael.

He’s seen her before, in lectures, in the dining hall, walking around the college with her little group of friends. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were all Cheltenham girls by the way they talk and dress in the stupid outfits rich girls wear to make themselves seem like normal people.

He watches her as she walks towards him, the awkward little smile she gives him before she steps over his legs.

“Sorry,” she says again, falling onto the sofa. Michael almost winces at the sudden jolt of movement and the faint scent of a sweet perfume drifting from his left. “Had some trouble finding the room.”

“You’re right on time,” Stephen says, “we haven’t started yet.”

She’s better at the smalltalk than he is. She has a constant smile on her face and a bright look in her eyes, already having plenty of humorous anecdotes to share, despite the fact it’s only their second week.

As they go through the questions on the sheet, comparing calculations and answers, Michael is horrified to find that he’s a little nervous. His throat feels dry and he can feel his heart pulsing in his chest. It’s her fault, he thinks. Everything about her is distracting, the sound of her voice, the satisfied little hum she makes when she realises she’s got another question right. Her black tights, the way her skirt rides up her thigh when she crosses her legs.

He wants to think she’s vapid, a pretty face dressed up in black boots and a denim jacket, but to his dismay, all of their answers are the same, down to every detail in their calculations.

That is until they reach the last question. It’s terribly complex and he had almost struggled with it. Almost.

He steals a quick glance at her sheet and notices their answers are different. Because she’s missed a step, he realises. He feels a smile creeping across his lips.

He proudly goes through his working out, delighted at the surprised look on her face as she goes over her own sheet.

“I got something different,” she says with a shrug.

Stephen invites her to talk through her answer. Her voice is quieter and softer than it was before, but not as defeated as he’d like.

“She has you beat there, Mr Gavey,” Stephen says.

It’s like being punched in the gut. “What?”

“Overextend yourself a little,” he explains, drawing a line through the last few calculations on his paper. “Make sure to read what the question asks of you.”

His blood is boiling and his fists are clenched. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been wrong. A dangerous impulse in the back of his mind wants to scream his throat raw and tear his paper to pieces.

Then he feels a warmth settle over his knuckles. She’s placed her hand over his.

“It’s a compliment, really,” she says to him.

He looks up at her, only more infuriated by the gentle expression on her face. But he knows better than to let anger get the better of him. It will only leave him feeling ashamed. So he forces a smile and nods. “Thank you.”

She smiles too, sweet and reassuring.

He can’t bear the humiliation. Once they’re dismissed he packs up quickly, practically storming out of the room before she even has a chance to stand up.

He spends the rest of the day in his dorm, looking over the same problem and pulling at his hair, because now his mistake seems glaringly obvious. How could he be so useless? So careless as to not even read the fucking question properly?

His room is on the second floor, overlooking the quad. There are always people around, walking between classes, sitting on the grass, their voices and the smell of cigarette smoke rising and drifting in through his window. He hates it. He hates the noise, the distraction.

But as he goes to close the open window he spots her. It’s only for a moment. She’s walking towards the library with her hands in the pocket of her jacket and her backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s not with any of her preppy friends, in fact she looks rather solemn.

He feels a slight twinge of guilt in his gut. Perhaps he had been a little unfair to her in their tutorial.

He keeps noticing her, especially at meal times and during lectures. Whenever he enters a room he finds himself searching for her, and if he cannot find her, he waits for her to appear. He plays guessing games with himself, waiting to see what outfit she’ll wear, the pretty mini skirt or a pair of faded blue baggy jeans. If she’ll be with her friends or if she’ll be alone.

He never approaches her. He waits for her to look at him, and once they’ve made eye contact she’ll smile at him.

He likes watching her, and comes to the conclusion that she is charming and polite, but not overbearing, and that’s what's so intriguing about her. She knows how to talk to people, even the most insufferable of their peers, but she’s not nearly entitled enough to truly be one of them.

It’s a Friday evening the next time they actually speak. The library tends to be quieter at this time and he has a textbook to look over before his next lecture. Only, when he goes to find the book, he discovers the last copy has been checked out a matter of minutes ago. Fucking typical.

He goes to stalk out of the library, debating whether or not he can be bothered to ask Oliver if he wants to grab a drink in The King’s Arms, when he sees her.

She’s alone, with her chin in her palm, writing in a notebook as she looks at the textbook open in front of her. He’s willing to bet that’s exactly the book he needs.

He approaches her slowly, waiting for her to look up and notice him, but she seems utterly absorbed in what she’s doing. Only when he puts a hand on the back of her chair and leans over her shoulder does she react to him.

He sees her jump when he gets too close. “Jesus Christ!” she hisses, clutching her hand over her chest.

“Sorry,” he mutters, still hovering over her. “Did I frighten you?”

She hums a laugh but composes herself quite quickly. She turns her head to look at him. “I’m guessing you want the book?” she says, her breath fluttering over his cheek.

He straightens his back so he can look down at her. “Will you have it for long? Only I think I’ll get through the reading quite quickly.”

“Oh yes of course, you’re a genius, right?” she says with a grin.

Irritation scratches under the surface of his skin, hot and restless. That’s how he usually introduces himself, but it’s the truth.

“We could just share,” she says, gesturing to the empty seat beside her, “that is, unless you don’t think I’ll be able to keep up.”

There’s something exciting about the way she holds his gaze, the hint of a smile on her lips.

She offers to go back a page so he can catch up and admittedly, he skims through, only writing down a few notes before he tells her to move on. He can find the book again if he really needs to.

He has to lean over his left arm rather significantly to read the book properly. She notices this, and pushing it closer to him, shuffling her chair over to follow. They’re close enough that he can smell her perfume again.

“None of your little friends around then?” he asks quietly, so as not to disturb the other students.

“What?”

“That group of girls,” he says, “I’ve seen you sitting with them in the dining hall.”

She brings her chin back to her palm but doesn’t look up from her notes. “They live on my floor. I don’t need to spend every waking moment with them.”

“Touchy subject?” he asks, perhaps a little too hopefully.

His heart leaps in triumph when she looks up at him. “No. I’m just not sure I’d count them as friends, necessarily.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Not my kind of people,” she says.

“Why not?”

She frowns briefly. He thinks she might scold him for being so direct, for asking so many questions, for being too intrusive. But she doesn’t.

The textbook is forgotten. She tells him about the village where she grew up, a sad little place by the sounds of it. She spent most of her schooling surrounded by the same twenty or so kids.

“For a long time, I knew there was something people didn’t like about me,” she says. “I didn’t understand why. I was never rude or cruel, I just kept my head down and did my work. The other girls told me I was a freak, the boys used to tease me, pull my hair, tear pages out of my books. Mum said people hated me because I was clever. Dad said I should stop complaining. So I did.”

He can’t help but draw a comparison to himself. He can feel it when he meets someone new, the inherent distrust, the sense that there is something inherently unlikeable about him. In a way he likes that people are unnerved by him because at least it’s something he can control. He has never been one for friends or common ground, a consequence of being the smartest person in every room.

He watches her intently as she tells him about a private school a few miles outside of her village, a proper posh place, Victorian buildings and sprawling estates. For her, it was her one chance of escape, and while her parents worked hard to make ends meet, the only way she was going to get in was with a scholarship. So she worked for it, got all A*s in her GCSEs, started at the posh school, and from there, set her sights on Oxford.

“You’re rather deceptive,” he says.

She smiles at him. “It’s not like I lied. Were you expecting a daddy’s money brat?”

“There’s enough of them about,” he says.

She huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes. “Fucking tell me about it.”

They start to make a habit of studying together, at first it’s by coincidence, and then she gives him her number so they can organise themselves more effectively. They meet at the library every Friday to share a textbook or go over problem sheets, in preparation for their lectures. They even start to meet before their tutorials together, to compare answers and make sure neither of them are left out. Sometimes they go for coffee after their classes, and branch off to chat about things that aren’t maths.

He tells her about the grammar school he went to, that most of the boys there were rugby playing morons. He tells her about his family, his mum, his dad, the family cat that’s been around longer than he has. He tells her about his summer, running numbers for his uncle’s accountancy firm.

She tells him about the posh school, that starting at a boarding school was like being thrown into a different universe. Sure, she had been the odd one out and got the odd “povo” comment, but it was the first place where she had felt like she didn’t have to be ashamed of her own intelligence. She learnt how to fit in, to the point where he can’t tell if she actually likes her preppy friends or if she just puts up with them for the sake of it.

He starts to wonder if he could consider her a friend. He likes that she’s smart and sharp, the slight air of competition when they compare notes or go through a problem together. He likes challenging her, making her second guess herself, watching the way she squirms and tries to hide that she’s flustered. Just once, he thinks it would be fun to one-up her, but of course, she never slips up, and she never makes a mistake.

On Halloween she mentions a party at Magdalene College being hosted by one of her old school friends. Of course he’s sceptical. Hanging around a bunch of stuck up posh kids, who no doubt will all be in slutty costumes and getting off on each other’s egos, isn’t exactly his idea of fun. Although, part of him is intrigued to see her in a different setting.

So he agrees to meet her outside her dorm at 10pm exactly. He doesn’t bother with fancy dress, opting for jeans and a black jumper so that he can just fade into the background.

She appears with some of her preppy friends. They’re all in pastel dresses of differing colours, matching wings strung on their backs, glitter on their cheeks, a little pack of fairies. She’s in white mini dress that floats around her thighs as she moves, more like an angel.

She introduces him enthusiastically to the girls, already giddy from their pre-drinks, pink gin and rosé. None of them seem that interested by his presence and he grunts in response.

She links her arm through his as they walk over the cobbles, through the maze of ancient buildings to the dorm where the party is being held. She talks about everything and nothing. She tells him who’s going to be there, who’s been uninvited but might show up just to stir shit, how many girls are going to be there and that they’re all going to be trying to get into Felix Catton’s Calvin Kleins.

“Are you going to get with anyone?” she asks.

He makes a sound of disgust.

“Come on, Michael, live a little!”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think– I don’t know–”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and turns him to face her. “Have you kissed anyone before?”

He swallows thickly. It’s not something he’s ever been ashamed of before, now it feels like a weight crushing down on his chest. “No,” he says, simply, determined to remain indifferent.

“Get with someone tonight!” she says excitedly, “just for the fun of it, we’ll find you someone good.”

He hates the idea, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Perhaps it seems like fun to her, but to him it seems like an impossibility, and he thinks he’d rather have the consistency of being unwanted.

The party itself is loud and sparsely lit by neon lights. He starts off on bottles of beer to ease himself into it, but seeing everyone else is doing pills and white lines, he thinks he might need something stronger to get through the night, especially when she keeps getting distracted. The angel is quite the social butterfly and insists on saying hello to everyone, even the people she’s never met.

He finds himself in a common room and reaches for a bottle of whisky and a cup when he spots her. She’s leaning against a wall, wings discarded on the floor beside her. A tall boy, wearing nothing but jeans, a pair of feathery costume wings and a horrible Carpe Diem tattoo on his forearm, has his hands on her waist. She’s smiling and giggling into his neck every time he goes in to kiss her. Of all the girls Felix could go after.

His skin feels tight. He fears if he keeps having to watch this little display he’ll retch his guts up, and yet he’s utterly hypnotised by it, the way she had her arms around his shoulders, the way her fingertips trace the base of his neck. And fuck, he’s never seen her look so beautiful.

He ends up downing the rest of the whisky straight from the bottle and most of the night becomes a blur after that. At some point he thinks he starts trying to talk to one of her pastel fairy friends. He doesn’t catch her name, and he wouldn’t care to remember it anyway. She plays with his glasses, tries them on and giggles hysterically. He thinks she must be completely off her face, considering the look of utter disgust she had given him at the start of the night.

Somewhere in the noise of the party she throws her arms around his neck and they sway clumsily to the overwhelming bass of the music. He thinks he feels her lips graze his cheek, his jaw, his neck, but where he can help it, he keeps his eyes on his angel. Felix has one of her legs around his waist and his hands halfway up her skirt.

Fuck this.

He pushes the nameless girl off him and storms over to put an end to the scene before him. He grips Felix by his shoulders to pull him off her, grabs her by the arm and drags her out of the dorm. He doesn’t look back to see if Felix protests, he’ll probably find some other throat to stick his tongue down.

She tries to shout over the music. “Where are we–”

“I’m tired,” he snaps, bringing his face in close to hers. He gets closer than he means to, pressing his nose and his forehead against hers. He’s breathing fiercely, he realises, desperate to contain the full extent of his anger, his jealousy. “I want to leave.”

She stares back at him with parted lips, and nods.

He feels better the moment they’re outside, away from the disorientation of the party. He takes deep breaths of the night air, cold and sharp in his lungs. He snatches off his glasses, runs his hands over his face and his hair to find himself drenched in sweat.

His angel tucks herself in against him, under his arm, huddling her arms around herself and shivering.

“Do you want my jumper?” he says. His voice and the words on his tongue feel strange. His limbs feel weightless as he pulls it off and helps her into it.

“Hmm, thank you,” she says dreamily, clinging onto his arm as they stumble back to Lincoln College. He burns where she touches him, her fingertips digging into his skin. He loves it, and hates that her hands were on someone else before him.

“You were getting rather cozy with Miranda,” she says.

“Who?”

“Lilac fairy costume,” she says, playfully hitting his arm. “Did you kiss her?”

His heart sinks. He presses his lips together but she doesn’t seem to pick up on his annoyance. “No,” he says with a tight jaw.

“Oh no,” she says, looking up at him with a comically sad pout.

“It’s not important,” he says.

“It’s your first kiss! Or should have been your first kiss. It’s important. Did you at least have a good time before you got tired?”

“No,” he says, “your friends are all imbeciles.”

They walk the rest of the way back to her dorm in silence. He makes sure she has her keys, holds her face between his hands and tells her to drink a whole glass of water before she falls asleep.

She leans into his touch with a sleepy smile. “Yes, yes, I will,” she whines.

The sound stirs a wanting in his stomach. Suddenly his heart is beating faster than it ever has before.

“And call me if you need anything–”

“Would you want to kiss me?” she asks.

His eyes flicker down to her lips. His hands are still cupping her cheeks. “What?”

Her eyes are wide and alert. “I just mean, I could be your first kiss, if you wanted to.” She places her hands on his wrists, tracing her fingertips over his skin, along his forearms. It’s such a simple touch, and yet he can feel it driving him slowly insane.

He imagines her hands running over the rest of his body, down his chest, his stomach, teasing over the growing hardness in his jeans.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, terrified of how desperate his voice might sound.

She rises onto her toes, inching her face closer to his, drawing her nose over his cheek. “So?” she says, lips brushing over his skin, “I promise it’ll feel good.”

Their lips find each other in a simple movement. It’s easier than he thought it would be, following the movements of her mouth, letting his hands fall from her face and rest on her waist. He can feel her breathing, the little hums she makes as she kisses him and runs her hands through his hair.

He decides, in that moment, that she is perfect. She is bright and beautiful, passionate and kind, soft and sharp, everything he wants for himself, the only person he has ever felt a need for. That need burns through his bloodstream, goes straight to his head and makes his mind hazy. It tightens in his gut and only makes that wanting feeling in his chest feel emptier. His heart races, his trembling hands graze over the thin, silky material of her dress.

His glasses come askew. He feels her smile against his lips and it feels good. Really fucking good.

His hands clench into a firmer grip on her waist. He needs to keep her close, to touch her, feel her, know she wants this as much as he does.

Only she’s slipping away.

Her hands come away from his neck and the cold night air stings his skin in her absence. She pulls her head away, not abruptly, but that’s the pain of it. He leans forward to chase her lips but he has no choice but to let her go in the end.

She looks up at him with a vague smile. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Nice in the moment. Pure torture that he’ll have to spend the rest of the night clinging onto the memory, only able to imagine how good it felt.

After that night he cannot escape the thought of her, when he’s in his lectures, when he’s in the library, when he’s walking between classes, when he’s in the dining hall. If he’s with her he cannot help but notice every little detail about her, her clothes, her hands, the colour of her nail polish, every micro expression, every word, every laugh, every sigh.

And when he’s alone, he can’t help but picture her in that white dress, the sound of her voice, the feel of her lips. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to run his hands over every inch of her skin and make her a breathless, whining mess. When he’s in his dorm, it’s inevitable that his hand will end up dipping into his boxers, stroking himself until he spills over his knuckles with a grunt or a whisper of her name.

He’s never known himself to be so distracted.

Worst of all is the rage that comes with the wanting. He hates walking into the lecture hall to see her chatting to someone else, seeing her with her preppy friends around the college or drinking with that old school friend in the King’s Arms. None of them deserve her. None of them. Does she even realise it? How long before she loses herself, before she decides she doesn’t need him?

He knows he’s not a sentimental person. He doesn’t have a lot of friends nor does he want them. People have come in and out of his life, but this girl is different. He feels a draw to her, a hunger that he can’t satiate with his own imagination. She is everything he wants for himself, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away.

As Michaelmas terms comes to an end, the colleges and libraries are covered with garlands and wreaths. Despite the lingering worry in the back of his mind, Michael is rather happy with his collection of outcasts, though poor Oliver Quick seems rather unhappy at being a designated Norman-No Mates.

He finds it easier to get her attention as the term and the workload progresses. They’ve had tutorials and summative assignments, and she’s finally starting to struggle.

And then there was the incident about the scholarship. One of the preppy friends let slip that she wasn’t paying for her tuition fees or her accommodation, likely done out of jealousy after she’d gotten close to Felix at the Halloween party. He was there for her with a perfectly good shoulder to cry on when half the girls in her dorm started teasing her for it.

He tells her that she doesn’t have time to get distracted with parties or friends who won’t help her succeed.

He’s sitting at a table in the library, ready for one of their Friday evening study dates. She’s late but soon hurries in, pulling off the thick red scarf she has wrapped around her neck and shrugging off her denim jacket.

He has the textbook open at the right page and places a Crunchie in front of her when she sits down.

“Did you know there was a college Christmas party tonight?” Michael asks as she takes down her notes. “We’re NFI, apparently. Not fucking invited.” He’d checked his pigeonhole, and Oliver’s for good measure.

In the corner of his eye, he sees her look up from her notebook.

“As if we’d actually want to hang out with those vapid cunts,” he says, laughing to himself. He turns his head to check if she’s laughing too.

She doesn’t look very amused. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me,” she says.

He pauses, hovering his pencil over his worksheet. “You got an invitation?” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” she says, “I was chatting with some of the literature guys the other day, you know Farleigh Start–”

“What the fuck were you talking to him for?” He asks in a voice like ice.

She stares at him with wide, almost accusing eyes. “What, am I not allowed to talk to anyone besides you?”

“They’re not worth your time so stop acting like a fucking bootlicker” he hisses. “They’re all self-obsessed and cruel, and I don’t know why you’re so desperate for their approval.”

“Desperate,” she echoes.

The silence of the library is screaming at him. He has an awful feeling in his stomach, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s pushed a little too far.

It’s Halloween all over again. He can feel her slipping away, and he can’t reach out for her, can’t hold onto her and make her stay where he wants her. He curls his fists as he feels his body start to tremble.

“I guess I won’t waste any more of your precious time then,” she says sharply as she starts to pack up her things.

“No,” Michael utters. He reaches his hand up as if to stop her but she stands up, out of his reach. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She throws on her jacket, wraps her scarf around her neck and turns around, glaring down at him with sad, glassy eyes. “I need to get ready,” she says. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” Then she sweeps out of the hall with a cold rush of air and a slam of the doors.

Michael groans and lets his head fall into his hands. How had he managed to fuck up that badly?

He can’t think about the problems on the sheet in front of him, or think about the reading from the textbook. All he can picture is her in some skimpy dress, letting some sick trust fund baby put his hands all over her. It makes him want to tear his hair out.

He stays there until the evening has turned to night, until any other stragglers have left the library, to attend this stupid Christmas party or to make their own fun.

He can’t understand why she keeps trying to befriend the people who would abandon her the moment they got bored of her, the very same people who shamed her for her scholarship.

He’d never leave her, never let her feel anything less than worshipped.

When he finally packs up his bag he finds himself walking to her dorm. A few girls are leaving as he arrives at the building and he easily slips in while they’re busy chatting. He knows which floor she’s on, and then all he has to do is find her name on one of the doors… and there it is, under the number 205. Perfect.

He glances up and down the hall. It’s deathly quiet. He wonders how many students have already cleared out of their rooms, how many will be at this party, at the pub with their friends.

He can hear music on the other side of the door, a voice singing softly to a song he doesn’t know.

He brings his knuckles up and taps four times against the wood.

She seems happy when she opens the door, but her face falls when she realises it’s him.

He buries his hands in his pockets, keeps his chin down as he looks up at her. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

She sighs and purses her lips, but steps aside enough for him to come into her room.

It’s not as neat as he imagined, but it’s cosy. There are photos and posters all over the walls, clothes strewn everywhere, an opened makeup bag on the floor by the mirror, pieces of paper and used mugs on the desk. His eyes are drawn to her bed, to the colourful comforter tossed carelessly over the duvet and the pile of mismatched pillows. It smells like her perfume, and something else that is distinctly her.

A red dress hangs on the front of her wardrobe, her outfit for the party, he guesses. For now she’s dressed in her favourite pair of baggy jeans and a tank top, her hair slightly damp and her skin dewy.

She sits on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed. She doesn’t prompt him, but he knows what she wants to hear.

He stands in front of her, his knees almost touching the bed. He tries not to look at the cut of her tank top, the way it clings to her torso and teases the swell of her breasts.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “You were right, I was being unfair.”

She looks up at him, furrowing her brows and catching her lip between her teeth, like she always does when she’s thinking. It makes his stomach drop.

“You can be cruel too, you know that?” she says, “and so full of yourself, but you hold it against everyone else you meet.”

“But I’d never lie to you,” he says, “and I’ve never pretended to be someone I’m not.”

She keeps frowning. “Neither have I.”

He hums a laugh. He can’t help but reach for her, taking her chin between his fingers. She doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t question it when he gently strokes his index finger over her cheek. “Silly girl,” he says, “you care too much about what people think of you. You’re smarter than that, but you’re happy to hide it.”

Her breath hitches as tilts her head further back and lets his thumb drag over her lower lip.

“Michael,” she utters, pressing her palms against his chest, but not enough to push him away. Her hands grip at the collar of his jumper and she nudges her nose against his.

He doesn’t know where the sudden recklessness comes from. Perhaps it’s in the way she said his name, the way her eyes are gazing up at him, but every part of him feels hollow.

He leans in closer. “Why bother? Why do you want to dumb yourself down when I could just fuck you stupid?”

She leans in to kiss him and he indulges her, letting his hand settle against her cheek as they clash together in a mess of lips and tongues. It’s more frantic than the night of the Halloween party, wetter, clumsier.

She comes up onto her knees, snaking one of her hands down to the hem of his jumper.

“Have you fucked a girl before, Gavey?” she says between their kisses. He can feel her smiling.

“No,” he says, practically tearing his jumper and his shirt off, “but I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Anyone in particular?” she says, palming over the bulge in his jeans.

“Who do you fucking think?”

His hands are on the buttons of her jeans, ripping them open, dragging them down her legs before she’s on her knees again. He slips his hand between her legs, against her clothed centre and she ruts against him like a bitch in heat.

With his other hand he grabs at her waist, impatiently pulling her tank top over her head to reveal a lacy black bra underneath. He can’t stop himself, planting firm, desperate kisses over the flesh of her chest as he undoes the clasp.

He tosses her bra aside and takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and circling his tongue over the sensitive bud. He loves how she whines for him, how she runs her fingers through his hair and pulls when it feels good.

And then her phone rings.

She sighs in frustration before she shoves Michael away and crawls over to the table by her bed.

Michael groans at the loss, wanting nothing more than to grab her and pull her back across the bed. “Who is it?” he asks, adjusting his glasses.

“Could be Farleigh, or one of the girls, I said I’d meet them before the party–”

That’s all he needs to hear. In an instant he’s on top of her, pinning her wrist to the mattress so she can’t reach her phone, legs on either side of her body as he presses her down.

She writhes underneath him, unintentionally grinding her rear into his crotch. She tries to turn her head over her shoulder, but it’s hard when she’s caged in underneath him. “Michael! What the fuck are you–”

“When are you going to get it into that pretty little head that you don’t need them?” he says, letting his lips brush against the shell of her ear. He feels her shudder, feels her heartbeat racing against his chest.

“I know I don’t need them,” she says.

“Hmm,” he says, leaning back to undo his jeans enough to free his hard and eager cock. I’m not convinced.”

He takes his time pulling her panties down her legs, kneads at her thighs and her ass, pulls her hips up and parts her legs so he can get a look at her slick, glistening cunt. He’s almost fascinated by it, drawing his thumb through her folds, noticing how she reacts to his touch, the sounds she makes, the way she fists the bedsheets when he gets close to her clit, but just enough to keep her on edge.

“I could be so good to you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder, “so fucking good, so why do you act like you don’t need me?”

“I do,” she breathes, interrupting herself with a light moan when he presses firmly against her clit. “I do need you.”

“There you go, you’re starting to get it,” he coos, circling over her most sensitive spot with the pads of his fingers. He may not have the practice but he has the knowledge, and he needs this to feel good for her.

She responds beautifully, sighing and rocking her hips against him, and she just melts when he presses the tip of his cock against her entrance.

He has to push harder than he expects, pausing when she gives a little yelp of what sounds like pain, but she assures him she’s fine.

He grabs her hip for leverage, hissing through his teeth as he pushes in deeper. She’s so tight, so wet, so warm.

“You can move,” she says, letting her head fall against her arm. “Please, I need it.”

He starts slowly, focuses on the drag of his cock through her, the way she stretches around him, but he can’t hold back for long. Once he finds a rhythm he gets a little more reckless, snapping his hips against her rear, keeping his harsh grasp on her flesh as he fucks her into the mattress.

Her moans are heavenly and obscene. She’s given up struggling but she’s trying to look at him, trying to touch him but she can’t. She calls his name and it sounds so pathetic but so endearing.

He chuckles lowly to himself. “Silly little slut, didn’t know what she was missing, did she?”

“No,” she whines. He can feel her clenching around him and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to last. “Fuck, Michael, it feels so good…”

He pulls out of her, only to turn her back and slam back in. Suddenly she’s all over him, running her hands down his torso, wrapping her arms around his neck. She has her face buried into the crook of his neck, grazing her lips, tongue and teeth over his skin.

It feels good to have her close, but he’s still not entirely satisfied.

He pulls away to hold her down again, one hand on her throat, the other on her stomach. “Mine.” he huffs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “All mine. Fucking say it.”

She places her hands over his, urging him to hold her tighter, press harder. “Yours,” she utters, “all yours.”

“Good fucking girl,” he groans, and feels her respond to his voice, cunt fluttering, back arching, another whine sounding in her throat— maybe she likes that. “My clever little girl.”

He feels her come undone around him, back arching as he lets out a breathless moan, practically squeezing him to his own release.

He pulls out and with a few strokes of his hand, paints her belly and her thighs with his spend.

She’s trembling, smiling, reaching out to touch him again, grabbing at his wrists and pulling herself up. She guides him to lay back in the bed and straddles him, tracing her finger over his lips, his jaw, along his nose to push his glasses up for him. He can hardly see through them, the lenses fogged up and smeared with sweat.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” she says.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pawing at her hips, watching his cum as it drips down her body. He can feel a sense of pride swelling in his chest, the arousal in his gut starting to tighten again.

He gasps when she drags her wet cunt over his already hardening cock. “You.. want to go again?”

She tilts her head, looking down at him with that familiar excited look in her eyes as her mouth spreads into an eager grin. “You’re adorable,” she says, tracing her fingertips over his chest, down the lines of his abs, to the trail of thin hair on his navel.

She leans down, reaching between them to take his cock in her hand, moving with agonisingly slow strokes. When he tries to protest she silences him with little more than a peck on his lips, before she trails down to his throat. “I stand by what I said, Gavey, and you’re not leaving this bed until we’ve taken that ego of yours down a notch.”

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

#michael gavey #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x oc #michael gavey x ofc #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #my fics

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alastorss · 15 days

Note

Hi, could you do an Alastor x Reader where Alastor is the intimidating, scarier half. Their group of friends see him wearing an adorable, soft, pastel pink sweater and start to laugh at him. Until Alastor jumps on Reader's back, grinning and kissing Alastor's cheek because Reader took forever to make that sweater?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"Hey, Smiles..." Angel strains out awkwardly. "What'cha got goin' on here?"

The spider gestures up and down Alastor's body, brows pulled together in utter confusion. (He really wishes he had his phone on him. He'd risk taking a thousand photos just to remember this moment.)

Alastor only stares back, smile ever present but eyes narrowed in irritation. "I'll have you know that pink is in this season!"

"In? This season?" Angel guffaws, glancing down at his own outfit before his eyes are all over the Radio Demon again. "I mean, I guess... But you don't seem the type."

"What ever do you mean?"

'It's written all over your face!' Angel screams in his head. He clears his throat and continues carefully, not wanting to step on the Overlord's toes and wind up on his dinner plate.

But before he can even get another word out—

"He means that stupid fucking pink sweater you're wearing," Husk deadpans from behind the bar, attention devoted to polishing a glass. Perhaps that was for the better, Angel thinks, when Alastor shoots daggers in his direction with a glare.

"Stupid?" Alastor repeats, voice crackling dangerously with static.

"It looks like Valentine's Day just threw up all over you," the bartender elaborates.

"Does it now?" The Radio Demon stands, seething in his spot.

Angel clambers over the sofa in worry. "Apologize now, I beg of you," he sputters in exasperation.

However, Husk doesn't back down. Instead, they stare at each other in intense silence, anger simmering between them. The pornstar is just about to yell for Charlie to break them up when his knight in shining armour waltzes into the room.

"You're wearing it!" You gasp, joy evident as your grin spreads ear-to-ear.

Angel watches in relief when Alastor relaxes, antlers shrinking back down. He takes his seat again, allowing you to attack him from behind. You dangle off his neck like a charm with your cheek pressed to his.

"Of course I'm wearing it," he chuckles. "You made it!"

Alastor's eyes dart to the side to leer at Husk who finally shrinks back, realizing his mistake.

A strange pairing.

It was what everyone murmured under their breath when they would see you and your companion. Wherever you went your relationship drew eyes. You were too good for him, or he was too good for you.

To hell with that.

You suited each other—despite the odds, despite the differences. He was harmless as a domestic cat in your arms, and he was teaching you all the wonders of smiling until your cheeks hurt.

And it was one thing to badmouth him. It was another to insult you, whether they realized it or not.

"Pink looks so nice on you," you sing, giving him a little squeeze. "Don't you think?"

You peer up at Angel, and for some reason, he feels a chill run down his spine. Maybe it was because you were currently an accessory to the most feared demon in the Pride Ring.

Or perhaps...

"Looks fantastic," he grits when your head tilts and he realizes you're smiling so wide that you're practically baring your fangs at him.

You were just as terrifying when you were mad!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"They hated it, didn't they?"

Alastor can hear your pout.

"Oh, sweetheart," he muses as he watches you get ready for bed. "They absolutely did~"

You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. When you finally look at him, you snicker.

"You really don't have to wear it to sleep, you know?" You poke his side. "I know it looks terrible. Take it off already!"

The Radio Demon catches your wrist and guides you into his lap, allowing you to straddle him. You melt into his body as his arms wrap around you.

"It's perfectly warm and comfortable. Acceptable attire for bed. Need I mention again that you made it for me?"

He kisses the top of your head and you giggle as he continues.

"And I believe pink really does suit me."

"Even if people laugh at you?" You ask quietly.

He is silent for a pause before he pulls you so close that he can feel your heartbeat.

"They can laugh all they want. At the end of the day, who's the one who gets to hold you like this?"

You breathe out a whispy laugh.

"Sap."

Before you fall asleep, you make a new reminder in your phone to pick up more supplies for another sweater.

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee @alastorthirsty (send an ask to be added!)

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lomlhwa · 4 months

Text

y'know what they say about guitarists (c.s)

pairing: guitarist!san x vocalist!reader

preview: san has watched you flirt with entire crowds. he just wants some of that attention too.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of drummer!mingi, bassist!yunho and stage manager!seonghwa, ONE BED TROPE WHO CHEERED, possessive san, spit play, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl), praise, pussy drunk san, dacryphilia, lots of hickeys, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, cockwarming

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: any chase atlantic tbh (slow down, swim, heaven and back)

a/n: this lovely fic is dedicated to @kitten4sannie to celebrate my return to writing! i hope you like this ml!

as you’re onstage playing a gig for a couple thousand people, you feel like you’re in your element. nothing feels better than being onstage with your bandmates. your hips sway to the music coming from the musicians sharing the stage with you.

you give playful winks and body rolls to the fans in the front row. something that always catches your guitarists eye. though, his rhythm never falters.

jealousy always courses through him. he wants to receive those playful gestures from you. you even wink at mingi, your drummer from time to time. the beloved bassist, yunho, receives the most of your onstage affection. hugs, cheek kisses, etc. makes the male fans jealous. makes san’s blood boil.

your angelic voice rings through the in-ear monitors that each band member wears. it sends shivers down san’s spine. so talented and so incredibly beautiful.

as your gig ends, you giggle and thank the fans who attended. “thank you guys so much for coming! i love you! we’ll see you next time!” you bow and flounce your way backstage in your cute outfit. your band members follow suit, bowing and running backstage.

“thank was great guys! well done,” you stage manager says. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and smile. “thanks hwa.” you let go of him and turn to yunho. “yuyu, your guitar playing was extra good today!” you exclaim, smiling so brightly that the sun might have competition. you peck his cheek before running off to your stylist to get changed.

san’s shoulders slump, knowing that he won’t receive those small actions of affection from you. “feeling left out, sannie?” mingi asks, towering over the smaller guitarist. san nods, not bothering to look up at mingi.

“why don’t you just talk to her? there’s gotta be a reason she’s reserved around you,” yunho points out from across the room. his makeup artist is hunched over him, removing his makeup ever so carefully.

“talk to who about what?” you say, suddenly coming out of your dressing room. you’re beautiful even now; no makeup and in your pajamas. “no one. nothing,” san blurts out. fuck. he’s so stupid. “okay,” you smile, sipping your water through a straw.

“you guys ready to go back to the hotel?” you ask and the other three members nod in unison. you grab your bag and head for the door. “san’s rooming with you tonight, y/n.” you look back at yunho with wide eyes. “oh! um, okay.” you give san a confused look before heading out the door.

san flips yunho off before following you out the door. you all pile into the company van and sit in comfortable silence as you head to the hotel. you file out of the van when you pull up, security making sure no fans get to you. you scurry into the building and do your best to sneak into your hotel rooms. you sigh dramatically as you get the door shut.

you turn around to find san staring at your hotel room in horror. “what’s the probl-” you cut yourself off when you find that your room only has one queen sized bed. “shit,” you mutter. you drop your bag on the floor before you whip your phone out and dial seonghwa’s number.

“hwa, what the actual fuck? one bed?” san can hear seonghwa trying to explain. he picks up pieces of the conversation. something about this being all that was left when he was booking. something else about telling you to suck it up. you mutter some insults before hanging up on seonghwa.

“i can just sleep on the floor, it’s fine y/n,” san drops his bag on the floor and sits down on the ground next to the bed. “no, san, we can share the bed. we’re touring. i don’t want your limbs to ache,” you shake your head as you climb into the bed. you pat the space next to you and he clambers onto the mattress.

after a couple hours, you’re both laying on your backs in the dark, in silence. “hey y/n?” san says, finally breaking the silence. you give him a soft hum in response. “can i ask you about something that’s been bothering me?” he asks. you hum again.

“why don’t you give me the same attention you give mingi, yunho and seonghwa? no hugs, no pecks, nothing. you’ll skip over me just to give the ones beside me those things. why? did i do something to make you uncomfortable? or scared to do those things for me?” san can feel you tense up next to him. he wonders why that’s how you reacted.

“cause…” you trail off. san can see the outline of you sit up in the dark. “cause i have a crush on you. if i gave you that affection, i would never survive. if i gave you a single hug, i would never let go. if i kissed your cheek, i would never be able to keep it from turning into a real kiss,” the confession hangs in the air like a spiderweb. he sits up, like you did. “why didn’t you tell me?” san asks. you sigh and shrug, despite the fact that he can barely see you.

“i didn’t wanna ruin the band dynamic. i didn’t wanna risk you not reciprocating and making things awkward between us. i was just scared that-” san pulls your head back so he can meet your lips with his. it’s swift, but it’s enough to make you sputter in shock.

“i’ve liked you since we even started this band, sweet girl.” despite being in the dark, he maneuvers you onto your back and hovers over you. his cologne envelops you and you shiver.

“can i…. kiss you again?” san asks tentatively. he ghosts his fingers over your ribcage, making you squirm. “yes, please, san,” you respond. with your permission, he connects your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. he lips melt with yours, finding a slow pace. his tongue drags over your bottom lip, asking for your plump lips to part.

your warm mouth welcomes san’s tongue as it pokes and prods at your inner cheek and fights with your own tongue. your hips grind up into his, searching for friction. he groans against your lips and it sounds more beautiful than any sound that’s ever come out of his guitar.

his hands gravitate towards your hips to hold them down, keeping you from grinding anymore. “we can’t…” san whispers. “they’ll hear us.” you shake your head and pull him back down to you, kissing him more feverishly. “fuck… you make it so hard to resist you.” you whine against his lips, fighting his weight holding your hips down. “please, i need you.”

you can feel a moment of hesitation from him before he just lets himself relax into you. his hands leave your hips and you immediately grind up. his jaw falls open and you shudder at the sound that comes out of him again.

you grab his hand and drag it under your shirt, wrapping his hand around your breast. your spine arches as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. “sannie-” your breath gets caught in your throat when his mouth moves to your neck and he nibbles on your skin lightly.

“fuck, i can’t wait. let me undress you, sweet girl,” san begs you, his voice low and desperate. you tangle your fingers in his hair and nod as well as you can. his hand leaves your breast and helps his other hand to lift your shirt off you. you lift your torso up to allow for it to come off you completely. he wastes no time in allowing his own shirt to follow suit. your hands run down his chest to his abs, pressing against the muscle lightly. his hands undo the drawstrings on your sleep shorts, sliding your shorts and underwear down together.

“off,” you mumble, clawing at his plaid pajama pants. he giggles and slides his pants down, discarding them with the rest of the clothes. he runs his hands over your bare thighs, spreading your legs gently. san’s hands run up and down your skin as he leans back down to kiss you. “condom?” he whispers and you shake your head. “no, wanna feel you.”

san continues to kiss you as one of his hands moves down to his cock, stroking it a few times. he lines the tip up with your hole and sucks in a deep breath. he presses your thighs apart as he shoves his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. your hips stutter as your walls flutter around him.

your jaw falls slack and san finds purchase in kissing your jawline and your throat. he pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

san lifts himself onto his palms to trap you between his arms. “you know what, sweet girl?” he says between thrusts, “you’re fucking mine. you hear me? mine,” his lips are right next to your ear, whispering these words into your brain. “you belong to me,” he grabs your face and forces you to face him.

“your lips? mine,” he kisses you roughly before pulling away again. “your pretty tits? mine,” he leans down to kiss your skin, leaving dark marks in the wake of his lips. “your pretty little pussy? it’s fucking mine,” san speeds up his thrusts to prove his point. your back arches and his tip jabs at the perfect gummy spot inside you.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl. your pussy is so fucking good. so wet, so warm. you take me so fucking perfectly. my pretty girl. open your mouth for me,” you open your mouth immediately and he leans down to spit in your mouth. “swallow.” your jaw snaps shut to swallow his saliva.

as your orgasm builds up, tears spring into your eyes. your chest heaves with tight sobs of just how fucking good it feels. “are you crying? does it feel that good, sweet girl?” you wipe your tears away messily, embarrassed that you’re even crying.

wiping your tears was pointless because when his thrusts speed up again, new tears fall immediately. “fuck, oh my god san that feels so fucking good,” you cry out, a little bit too loud. your thighs spasm as you try to close them, but san’s hips between your legs keep you wide open.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please,” your hands claw as san’s biceps, your climax being right there. “me too. where do you want it, pretty girl?” he asks, his hips becoming more and more feverish. “inside, fuck, cum inside me.” san bites his bottom lip as his thrusts become sloppier.

you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him down to you so you can dig your nails into his back. he rests his body weight on his elbows and you clench around him. “cumming,” you whisper as your back arches for a final time before stuttering back down. the intensity of your walls gushing around him finally sends san over the edge.

the two of you just lay there completely still as ropes of cum fill up your abused hole. your legs wrap around his hips so that he won’t pull out before you want him to. “you’re so perfect. you’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum,” he strokes your hair as he whispers in your ear again.

“let me pull out so you can go to the bathroom and then we can sleep, okay?” you shake your head. “no. no. stay. roll over so i’m on top. lemme sleep with you inside. please. please, sannie,” you begging goes right to his head and he does exactly as you asked. with you situated on top of him, cock still inside, he pulls the blanket over the two of you. “we have to get up early to shower though, okay?” you nod.

_____________

“good morning love bugs. your throat gonna be okay to sing tonight?” yunho smirks at you and you smack san. “hey! i was the one who said they were gonna hear us!” he cries out. “at least you finally fucked,” mingi comments.

“yeah, real fuckin good,” seonghwa comments, looking exhausted. he was in the room right next to yours. he shakes his head. “i’m sorry hwa.”

“get in the fucking van.”

#lomlhwa #ateez #atz #san #choi san #ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut

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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months

Text

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨

pairing: dark!rafe x fem!kook!reader

summary: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

warnings: friends w benefits, rafe is terrible, jealousy, manipulation, arguing at a party, topper kisses you, fighting, rafe ‘breaking’ in your house

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i’m trying to focus on writing less smut but my next few works will be nsfw for sureeee, i hope you enjoy <3 series masterlist

“i have to get going.” you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when rafe started pulling his clothes back on. even though this wasn’t anything new, it didn’t make you feel any better. you watched him, sitting up with the sheets covering your chest. “see you tonight?” he was looping his belt when he sighed. “we’ll see.” he shrugged, not sparing you another glance before leaving you altogether.

your friends would be so disappointed in you right now if you told them that you allowed yourself to go through this again. “you’re so stupid.” you muttered to yourself, quickly making your way to a shower, wanting nothing more than to wash the feeling of him off. you knew rafe would never take you serious, but you liked him so much that if having a no strings attached arrangement was the only way you could have him, you were willing to do just that. you wouldn’t let yourself cry over him, but you did go through the motions each time.

you’d swear you would tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, but the second he was in your ear, whispering to you all the ways he wanted to take you, you never failed to bend at his will, quite literally. tomorrow would be the first day of spring break, so in your best friend’s fashion, it was only right to throw a complete rager with open invitation. you spent the remainder of your evening getting ready before chloe texted you that she was outside.

“you look insane?! are you serious?” chloe’s jaw hung open as you walked to her car. “this isn’t the y/n i know. what did you do with her?” you laughed, giving your friend a spin. you were wearing a lacey black see through dress, and a matching black set underneath. “good girl is staying in tonight.” you posed as chloe snapped a picture of you. “you look so hot, i love it.” she ushered you into the passenger seat, both of you riding back to her place. “fuck, it’s this packed already?” you got off, the heel of your boots clicking against the cement of her driveway. “just wait till you see inside.” she warned.

sure enough, you were greeted with the sight of at least a hundred people in the living room alone. chloe took your arm with hers, weaving through the crowd of people. you met with some more friends, everyone ogling your outfit since it was a drastic change from what you’d usually wear. “don’t let rafe see you in this.” at the mention of his name, you felt your stomach drop as you looked around towards the kitchen. “has anyone seen him? he’s the last person i want to run into right now.” you accepted the drink one of your friends came back with.

“oh, you don’t have to worry about that, he’s been pretty occupied out on the balcony.” hannah raised her eyebrows, the girls looking at you for your reaction. “occupied?” you took a sip from the red solo cup in your hand. even though you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want him with anyone else either. “topper and kelce are betting a whole bunch of money on a card game, apparently rafe is too.. just with a random sitting on his lap while he does it.” you licked your lips, nodding your head slowly as chloe watched you carefully.

“that’s cute.” without wasting another second, you started walking upstairs, your friends trailing behind you. chloe’s balcony was connected to the master bedroom, the double doors wide open for anyone to come in and out of. your eyes fell on rafe, the blonde draped across his lap was no one you’ve ever seen before. she was most defintely a touron. you walked outside, the guys so into their game that no one looked up from their cards. “hey.” you smiled sweetly at the girl across from you as you did the last thing you thought you’d do tonight, and sat on topper’s lap.

“well you look really good.” you hit his shoulder playfully, meeting rafe’s heated gaze when he did a double take. “aw, thank you ‘top. you wouldn’t mind if i sat here, would you?” you trailed your fingertips across his chest, a teasing smile gracing your lips as you watched how nervous you made him. “o-of course not, maybe you could be my lucky charm.” he showed you his cards, the giant stack of cash in the middle of the table catching your eye. “who’s winning right now?” even though you asked topper directly, rafe answered. “i am.” your head shot in his direction, his hand running up and down the girls thigh. okay..

“i’m sorry, i’ve never seen you around here, like ever,” you laughed, “do you have a name?” the girl looked embarrassed as you gave her a once over, her body visibly tensing the longer you stared at her. “i’m just going to go get another drink.” she got up, leaving rafe by himself as he shot daggers at you. diverting your gaze back to topper’s cards, you whispered in his ear to put down the ace. “that’s the winning card.” you reassured him, moving your hips slightly as you put the card down yourself, rafe following suit. “whoever has the highest gets the green, baby,” kelce leaned forward as you and rafe flipped your cards over. “fuck yeah!” topper shot up from the couch, holding you against him as you cheered.

“five thousand dollars, all yours ‘top.” kelce’s smile dropped as he glanced over at rafe. “let’s go!” before you could pull away, completing your mission to piss rafe off, topper grabbed a handful of your ass before kissing you roughly. “oh, fuck no,” rafe grabbed topper by his shirt, pushing you out of the way as he landed a punch square in his mouth. you sat there dumbfounded as kelce rushed to break them apart. “i don’t give a fuck about a few thousand dollars, keep your hands to yourself or i’ll fucking kill you!” before you could get up, rafe dragged you away by your arm. “leave her alone!” chloe shoved rafe, who didn’t even budge before taking you outside to the front.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he backed you up against one of the cars, his arms caging you in. “you trying to fuck my friends now? that’s what you want, huh?” you turned your head away from where he was grabbing your chin. “don’t touch me.” you swatted his hand away. “sitting on topper’s lap? what’s your fucking problem?” his knees dug into your thighs, your last band of resistance snapping. “you’re my fucking problem!” you pushed his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

“you tell me that you don’t want a relationship, but then freak out like this? meanwhile you’re still going around doing whoever you want? i hate this rafe! you don’t even look at me afterwards, how do you think that makes me feel?” he stared at you, his jaw ticking as you kept the tears from falling down your face. “this isn’t about you not being able to commit to someone, this is about you keeping me to yourself and having me around only when it benefits you. i’m done.” you didn’t allow him to respond, chloe jogging up to you just in time.

“you okay?” she pushed your hair out of your face. “can you just take me home please?” your best friend didn’t hesitate, walking you down the driveway before yelling; “get the fuck off of my property, asshole!” making you laugh softly. “fuck him. don’t let him have access to you anymore until he proves to you that he can take you serious. you deserve a million times better than that.” once the car door shut, you let the water works loose. after reassuring chloe that you’ll be okay by yourself, she finally let you off the car, not driving off until she watched you go inside.

your phone started chiming with new messages, all of them from rafe.

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: can we please talk about this?

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: that touron came onto me first, alright? you could ask topper.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: actually, don’t talk to topper at all.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: y/n i know i fucked up alright, please call me. or at least let me go over, let me make this up to you, let me make you feel good..

you scoffed at the last message. that’s all you were to him, a good fuck. nothing more, nothing less. you blocked his number, deciding to call it a night. you would have to be joining your parents tomorrow for the country club’s annual luncheon, which you were sure rafe would be at as well. you spent the rest of the night regretting your decision to get rafe riled up, topper kissed you for crying out loud. you made a vow to yourself, swearing you’d never do anything outlandish to get anyone’s attention, especially rafe’s.

“you ignoring me now?” you sucked in a breath, not daring to turn around and face the one man you couldn’t handle to see at the moment. “leave me alone, rafe. seriously.” you walked faster, hoping to reach the main dining room before he yanked you back. “blocking my number and my instagram? i didn’t think you had it in you.” you scoffed, looking up at him as he smiled, shaking his head. “didn’t think i had it in me?” you arched a brow, prying his grip off of your arm.

“come on, y/n,” he looked around, placing a hand on your hip, “we both know no contact isn’t going to work. i’ll show up at your house if i have to.” you didn’t doubt his words for one second, but the fact that he felt this comfortable dismissing your feelings was enough for you to realize what you had to do; tear down his ego. “and why wouldn’t it work? because you wouldn’t have anyone to run to when your daddy makes you cry?” rafe visibly recoiled, his hand moving as if touching you burned him.

“what the fuck did you just say?” his eyes narrowing down at you. “you heard me. it seems like you forgot we were best friends before we started having sex,” you laughed bitterly, “what happened? lost respect for me or something?” not being able to be in his presence for one more second, you left and met your parents at their table. for the rest of the luncheon, you could feel rafe’s gaze piercing through your skin. you knew you struck a chord, but it was all true.

“me and your father will be going to the mainland for the next few days for business, will you be joining us?” your mother’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. “chloe’s only here for a week before she goes back to uni so i’m gonna stay.” she nodded. “alright, i’ll have the driver take you home then, and sweetie,” she leaned in close, “you might want to see what that cameron boy wants, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down.” you glanced up, your stomach dropping at the sight of him. “it’s complicated.” you whispered, you and your mother getting up to leave.

the ride back was quick, your parents letting you know they’ll call you when they get off the ferry. you were about to walk inside before you noticed the door cracked open. what the hell? you turned around to see if your parents were still there, but the car was already gone. you tried to brush it off, going in cautiously. it was still early in the day, the sun still shining brightly overhead. you made your way to the security system, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you saw it had already been reset. “that’s impossible..” you whispered, jumping when you heard a clash come from upstairs.

you stood frozen, debating if you should run out or go check for yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was call the cops and it wasn’t anything to worry about. you cursed to yourself, slowly making your way upstairs. “is someone here?” you called out, opening the room doors and looking them over. obviously you expected no one to answer, but you still felt relieved when you saw that nothing was out of place. that was until you got to your room, where one side of your bed looked like someone had been laying in it.

you ran your hand over the sheets, the soft material still warm. “i told you i was gonna show up to your house if i had to.” your head shot up to your bathroom, rafe leaning against the doorframe. “what are you doing?” your heart was beating in your ears, his gaze making you feel powerless in this situation. “i’ve been a dick to you, i’ll admit that. i’ll apologize for that. i’m sorry, y/n, i really am,” he started moving towards you, “and you know what? you’re right. it is about me wanting to keep you to myself.” rafe a took a seat in front of you. “i want to work on this. i want us to work together, we could really make this a good thing.” you didn’t know you were crying until rafe wiped the tear from your eye.

“you’re lying to me.” you shook your head, pushing his hand away. a flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face. “i wouldn’t lie to you about this. i’m not as cold and unsure as you think i am.” his hands rested on your thighs. “i can’t even put into words how bad i wanted to hurt topper last night when i saw you sitting on him, and when he grabbed you and kissed you? i wouldn’t have stopped punching him if kelce didn’t get in the middle.” you listened, eventually relaxing under his touch. “i will do everything i have to do to prove to you i’m serious about this. about us.” he started moving closer, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what do you say, baby?” you swallowed, sitting in thought for a moment. this was all you ever wanted from rafe. the sincerity, the reciprocation. “you promise?” your voice was shaky, his eyes softening as he pulled you against his chest. “you have my fucking word.” he whispered against your skin, his hand running up and down your back. you smiled, pressing a kiss to his adam’s apple. slowly, he brought his hands up to your shoulders, his fingers running through your hair before you felt him gripping your neck. “as much as i want to take you slow, i have to punish you for saying what you did at the countryclub.” your eyes fluttered shut as rafe laid you down, his knee wedging itself between your thighs.

“say it again.” his hand was still wrapped around your neck as you looked up at him with tear clad eyes. “rafe..” he smiled, the action that usually has your heart melting, now had a shiver running down your spine. “say it.” rafe said through gritted teeth. you shuddered, ultimately giving in. “i told you, you wouldn’t have anyone to run to if your dad made you cry again,” saying it to him after you resolved things just felt cruel now. “and that was very insensitive of me, i’m sorry.” rafe shushed you. “it’s alright.. i’m gonna make you regret opening your mouth at all.”

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transmascsteveharrington · 1 year

Text

Eddie takes the same train every day. It's in the far too early hours of the morning, dawn barely painting the city in a glowing coat of rust. The people on the platform next to him cling to the coffee in their travel mugs the same way sleep still clings to their lashes. They're tired, but not the bone-shattering tired I just finished a 10-hour bar shift that pushes down on Eddie's aching shoulder blades. The people on the platform are going to work, Eddie is going home.

His feet hurt, his hands reek of vodka and redbull, his ears ring from the loud music that played all night long and his voice is hoarse from shouting over it to be heard. But he doesn't care as he gets onto the train and sinks into a semi-comfy seat. Because while his job is alright bordering on fun most nights, it's the best job in the world when Thursday slowly trickles into Friday. Because on Thursday nights in the Hideout Eddie does not just serve drinks and flirts until the tip jar is bursting, no on Thursdays he gets to perform up on stage. It's an agreement with the owner, who has a soft spot for Eddie and his band and they have recently started to draw a crowd which helps too. So today Eddie doesn't mind the sleepless night.

He suppresses a yawn and rubs his eyes, smudging the traces of eyeliner left on his face even worse. It's when he lowers his hands, stars dancing in the corner of his eyes from the pressure, and leans his head against the cool window of the train that Eddie sees him. The prettiest man he's ever laid eyes on. Seriously how can someone be this attractive? Light brown hair that manages to be untamed and yet perfectly styled, tanned skin covered in so many freckles Eddie can feel himself salivate. And then there are his eyes. Liquid gold, glowing amber, honey in the sun and whiskey by candlelight.

It's not the first time Eddie has fallen deeply in love with a stranger on the subway and he doubts it's going to be the last time. But it's the most he has ever been enraptured. The outfit the guy wears is nothing exciting to write home about. Grey coat covering a blue suit typical corporate style. Nothing exciting, not even a fun tie. Eddie couldn't care less about the clothes though (unless they were on his bedroom floor).

He just watches the guys magnetizing eyes go back and forth over the page of the book he is reading. It's like watching a pendulum and Eddie finds himself hypnotized, enraptured, gone without any chance of return. Curious as he is though he forces himself to look away from the beautiful hazel eyes and tries instead to make out what the guy is reading.

He has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep himself from making a noise when he sees that the guy is reading A Court of Thornes and Roses. Now that is unexpected. Eddie never read it himself but he didn't think Mr. probably works for a big boy loads of money epicenter of capitalism company would read romance books let alone fairy porn romance books on the train to work. It's unexpected and Eddie instantly falls a little deeper. But unfortunately, as with all subway romances, it reaches its end as the train reaches the next station. Pretty boy sighs, dog ears his page (naughty) and gets up.

In the twenty seconds it takes for the train doors to open and the guy to step out Eddie fast forwards through the life they could have led. Imagines all the shared giggles and kisses and moments in time, sees all the stupid arguments they are going to have and the make up sex they'll have afterwards. Their first date will be in a little cafe just down the road from the Hideout, their wedding anniversary at a family-owned Italian place that reminds pretty boy of his grandma's cooking. The train door closes and Eddie's indulgent little fantasy ends. No point in thinking about all the what ifs, he's never going to see the guy again.

Except that he does. Next day, same time, same train, same exhaustion humming in Eddie's bones, same guy, different suit same book. Eddie stares. Can't help himself and maybe this is the universe giving him a second chance, telling him to make a move. But the only thing that moves is the guy when he reaches his stop, dog ears his book again, gets up and leaves. And well fall in love on the subway once, fall in love on the subway twice, Eddie thinks that this must be it.

But apparently, the universe is having a laugh because the impossible keeps happening, book guy keeps being on Eddie's train, and keeps on sitting right across from Eddie. The day he finishes acotar is the day they make eye contact for the first time. With a sigh he closes the book, looks up and catches Eddie staring. Eddie knows he should look away but he just can't, pinned under the guy's gaze he just keeps staring. And the guy stares right back, looks Eddie up and down and gives him a flirty little smirk and heart palpitations before he gets up.

The next day his hazel eyes widen in surprise when he sees Eddie sitting down across from him again like he too can't believe seeing the same guy on the subway twice. Eddie gives him an awkward smile, which gets returned just as awkwardly before the guy averts his gaze and continues to read Twilight. Okay, so pretty boy likes cheesy monster romance books. At least it's not 50 shades, Eddie thinks. Because he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying something and coming off like a total creep, telling a stranger on the subway that the portrayal of bdsm in that book is unrealistic and harmful and should never be acted out like that. Instead, Eddie just blissfully gets to wonder whether the guy is team Edward or team Jacob.

After that pretty boy keeps noticing Eddie. They exchange little smiles that become nods that become whispered hi-s and see you-s. Summer comes by the time pretty boy finishes twilight and his coat and suit turn into polos and khakis and it makes Eddie want to bang his head against the train's window because no one should be able to look that good in such stuffy clothes. After vampires, it's time for some Regency romance and several weeks for frowning eyes as pretty boy tries to make it through pride and prejudice. On one particularly hot summer morning he just slams the book shut with a groan of frustration.

"Not good?" Eddie can't help but ask. Pretty boy looks at him and the annoyance in his face softens. It's probably the hot weather that drives a blush into his cheeks.

"Kinda?" he shrugs. "I loved the movie like that almost kiss in the rain? The hand stretch? I loved it."

It's endearing how passionately pretty boy talks about the movie. And god his voice is perfect too. If Eddie had not already been lured by his pretty eyes it would have been the siren call of his voice.

"But the book? It's like super complicated man. Who are half these people? Why do they talk like that. And I know it's like high-class literature or something, but it just makes me feel l...I don't know stupid."

"It's not stupid, Austen isn't for everyone," Eddie reassures him and that gets a little smile out of the guy.

"Thanks," he says, suddenly shy.

Eddie wants to bite him. Wants to take him out, wants to know what his kisses taste like and what the first song that made him cry was. Wants to learn his favorite kind of soup and if blue is his favorite color. It's silly, it's just a stranger on the subway he keeps meeting.

"I'm Steve by the way," pretty guy says and just like that mysterious, sexy stranger becomes Steve. It only makes Eddie want Steve more.

"Eddie," he says just as the train pulls into Steve's station. With an apologetic smile, Steve gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie?" he asks, hopeful and all Eddie can do is nod, mouth gone dry.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

Instead of going straight to sleep like usual when he gets home, Eddie takes out his songwriting book, sharpens a pencil and then writes like a possessed man. It's just a silly song, something whipped up and recorded within half an hour. Just a little love song starting with "he took the morning train going somewhere." It's not something he would play with the band, nothing he would put on an album. He puts it on tiktok instead before he finally falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up his phone is running hot with notification. Confused and bleary-eyed Eddie opens the tiktok app and promptly almost drops his phone. During the few hours he's slept his silly little joke song has gone absolutely viral.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the songs that could have gone viral it of course just had to be song he recorded as a joke about falling in love with a corporate guy reading fair porn on the subway. Fuck, Steve. It's so so so obvious that the song is about him. Eddie has no idea how he is meant to take the train tomorrow and look Steve into his gorgeous eyes. He dreads all night. When he gets to the Hideout the guys from the band tease him about the song, but insist they have to put it on the demo. It's not their usual vibe but according to Gareth it slaps and Jeff calls it a bop. Eddie just feels sick. Steve is going to hate him.

Only that when Eddie gets onto the train with shaky knees, Steve smiles at him like any other day. Pride and Prejudice has been replaced with a copy of One Last Stop which definitely seems more like Steve's kind of book. But Eddie is too nervous to really think about it. He expects Steve to lash out at any moment, call him a weirdo, wave a restraining order in his face. But none of that happens. Steve just reads, and when he gets up to leave tells Eddie "see you tomorrow."

Eddie's song becomes more and more viral but the subway rides home stay the same. Steve will say hi, smile at him, read, then get up and say bye. Nothing more nothing less. Maybe he just doesn't have social media Eddie prays. Even though his book choices seem very curated by the clock app. But Eddie is thankful for every day, Steve doesn't bring up the subway boy song. He is almost done with one last stop the day Eddie and the boys get the call from Kings Records about a deal. It's one of Chicago's biggest labels and it would mean the big break for them. Only that they insist on Subway Guy being on the record.

Eddie doesn't like it, doesn't like it one bit. But the guys beg him to reconsider it. The song went viral for a reason and Eddie knows he will never forgive himself he keeps them all from making their dreams come true just because some guy on the subway might think he is a creep. Only that Steve is not just some guy. He is the highlight of Eddie's day, the sugar in his coffee, the reason mornings aren't as awful anymore. He is also noticeably absent on Eddie's ride to the record label.

It's the same train, the same time as always, but the seat across from Eddie is vacant. No corporate hottie with a cheesy romance book to be seen. Maybe the universe is teaching Eddie a lesson, telling him that he really screwed it up this time. Make it big but lose the guy it's karma.

Eddie tries his best to put on a smile and not let his foul mood show when he enters the record label, the guys from the band are already there. He can't blow this for them just because his heart aches a little. Okay, maybe it aches a lot but this is Eddie's dream. It's all their dream. So he keeps on smiling, shakes the big official music producer guy's hand and gets led to studio. They spend the day recording subway guy and while Eddie still feels a tad bad, he can't help but enjoy the process. The song is good, objectively, actually good and it's nice to be told that.

They finish for the day, but before they can leave there are some legal things to sort through, so the producer guy sends them to legal. It's at the top of the building, glass walls, stunning view. A secretary leads them to a conference room with a smile and tells them their laywer Mr. Harrington will be with them shortly to sign contracts, sort through copyright etc. etc.

Eddie is tunes her out, too distracted by the city below him. The train tracks look like thin lines from up here and Eddie can't help but think back to Steve. The excitement of the day turns into guilt, making his stomach ache. Just as Eddie is about to run, to call it all off the door to the conference room opens and Eddie's jaw drops.

"Hi everyone," Steve greets the band. "I'm Steve Harrington, resident lawyer for King Records. Sorry for letting you wait, but I was super curious and wanted to listen to your song first."

Warm hazel eyes find Eddie's wide-blown ones. There is no way this is real, this has to be a prank. But Steve just pulls out a bunch of paperwork and notions for them all to sit down. Eddie barely listens when Steve goes over the legal aspects, Nancy is going to read over the contract when Eddie gets home anyways. Eddie is too busy staring at Steve.

"Wonderful, this is all," Steve says once they have gone through all the paperwork. "King Records is looking forward to working with you."

Steve smiles as he leads them back to the elevators.

"Gotta say, while it's not my usual sound, I really enjoyed your song. I relate maybe a little bit too much to falling in love with a stranger on the subway," he says as they wait for the elevator. "The guy you wrote the song about must be a pretty special guy."

"He is," Eddie finally, finally regains his ability to speak. "I don't just write love songs about any kind of stranger."

The elevator dings open but Eddie doesn't want to move. He wants to stay, a million questions on his mind, starting with you're really not mad and ending with so I was thinking spring wedding, maybe May. Thoughts? But corroded coffin drag him into the elevator say their thanks and then before he can do anything yet another door slides shut between him and Steve. The guys don't notice that something is off, too euphoric about their first record deal. But it's fine, their joy is infectious and Eddie doesn't pout about being dragged away from Steve. Eddie knows he is going to see Steve again.

It's too early in the morning when Eddie steps onto the train home from his last shift at work. There is a beautiful guy on the train, dressed in a pristine suit, romance novel in his hands. He doesn't wait for Eddie to pass by, just grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him down into the seat right next to him.

"Hi," Steve grins, far too awake this early.

"Hi," Eddie whispers back, giddy despite all his exhaustion. They are both quiet for a moment before Eddie blurts, nervous, "Read anything good lately?"

It startles a laugh from Steve and it's such a nice sound Eddie instantly wants to make Steve laugh again.

"I have actually," Steve smiles. "I would tell you all about it, but I'm afraid my stop is next."

He takes what looks like a bookmark out from between the pages of his current book. Which is weird because Steve never uses bookmarks. It becomes less weird when he hands the bookmark to Eddie, a phone number written in dark ink on it.

"How about you give me a call and I can tell you all about it over a coffee," Steve suggests and get up. "And you can tell me all about that song of yours."

Eddie blinks surprised once, twice, as Steve leaves the train. Then Eddie instantly digs out his phone. He should go home, sleep. But screw sleep, who needs to rest when you have a coffee date with a hot stranger you fell in love on the subway with to arrange.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic #my writing

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morgy-doo · 2 months

Text

school bus graveyard realtionship headcannons

^ such cuties

Ashlyn Banner~

insanely protective

when you are in the phantom dimension this girl is mostly focused on making sure you don't get hurt/die

keeps you away from Aiden in that dimension so you don't end up getting roped into something stupid

Altho she isn't the most affectionate person, she will grab your hand and squeeze it tightly when she is nervous

she begrudgingly...after ALOT of begging, allowed you to play with her hair, when it is undone it is super wavy from being in those plaits all day

if you every get seriously hurt/die in the demon dimension, she will act calm and collected at first, but then totally lose it

she wont cry until she is alone of course

refuses to leave you alone until she knows you are better

after that she doesn't let you leave her sight

she just wants to keep you safe and close to her

Aiden Clark~

your more of a mother/father than a girlfriend/boyfriend-

CONSTANTLY bouncing off the walls

literally-

at one point in your relationship he would tell you he had a cute date planned....you had no idea that it was skydiving

he loved it

you not so much

in the phantom dimension he is using you to back him up in arguments

and he definatley tries to show off for you at one point

when they get locked in the mental assylum, he paints his face as you instead of the clown because why not

he found it endearing, you found it absolutely terrifiying

if you die then he will go silent, not as energetic or bouncy until he knows you are okay again, he constantly brings you things to entertain you with while in the hospital

he just wants you to never get bored of him

Ben Clark~

the most sweetest boyfriend ever

he will buy you flowers out of nowhere just to see you smile

sometimes he feels bad that he cannot say how much he loves you verbally

constantly has hand cramps from writing huge paragraphs about his love for you

the type of boyfriend to just pick you up and hug you when you are mad

you help him calm down when his temper starts to flare up

he really enjoys doing soothing activities with you such as pottery, painting, and baking

he is AMAZING at baking

he loves making you food

in the phantom dimension he likes to have you on his back

to reassure him that you are still there and safe, and also as a way to have quick access to you when you are in danger

if you die in the phantom dimension he will have this deeply disturbed look on his face

he honestly looked after you better than the doctor did

he brought you home cooked meals, your clothes, some things to cheer you up

he wants you to feel loved and to know that he will always be there for you even though you cannot hear him say it

Taylor Hernandez~

such a sweetie

she is so good at reading your feelings and can tell when you are upset/ when something is bothering you

she has pictures of you two together all over her wall so she always has something of you with her

she loves matching outfits with you

she 100% owns a shirt that says "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" and has no shame in wearing it

she has this ritual where she kisses each picture of you before bed each night and saying "i love you y/n" over an over until she has kissed each picture

Tyler was just stood in the doorway of the room terrified-

in the phantom dimension you both make a vow to protect each other

and she will protect you with her LIFE is she has too

if you die in the phantom dimension she would never forgive herself

she would think its her fault as she didn't stick to her side of the vow

she let you get hurt

will sob infront of everyone

honestly needs more comfort then you do

when you are on the road to recovery tells you all these silly stories about her and Tyler to see you smile

she wants you to never leave her

Tyler Hernandez~

this one is a mixed bag

lets just say you will be very aware when he has entered the room

you slowly help him start to enjoy baseball again

he invites you to practice to show you off to his team

you are now lumped into his protection pile

congratulations, you are now one of his top priorities

he wont say it very often, but he adores you

and he misses you very much when you aren't around

he plays guitar for you when he is feeling especially loving, he teaches you the songs his dad taught him

when you are in the phantom dimension he gets very angry very easily

he is just so overwhelmed and worried about keeping you AND Taylor safe.

he is terrified he would of failed in his job of protecting you

if you die in the other dimension he would be angry at everyone but mostly at himself

he would close off, he wouldn't speak to anyone and he ends up flunking some of his classes to see you at the hospital

he is very aggressive to everyone else but when you are getting better at the hospital he is all gentle smiles and sweet tones

he owes it to you for letting you down

he wants to be able to feel that he can provide and protect you

Logan Fields~

he thinks he doesn't deserve you

why would you pick someone small and pathetic when you can have the full package like Tyler

despite his self doubts he treats you as best as he can

he is the most cliche person ever

has definately watched the sun set with you

study dates are a must

you both defo have this little potted flower that you have "raised" together

he tells you ALL about flowers as he has alot of knowledge about them

when you are in the phantom dimension he always has this dreaded feeling sitting in his stomach

as if he knows something is gonna happen to you and he wont be able to stop it

the feeling would eat him up inside

if you die in the phantom dimension, he would be determined to be the reason you got better, that it wouldn't happen again

he wants you to view him as worthy of your love, and he would do almost anything to earn that

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lovebugism · 11 months

Note

can i request something with a reader who’s just really into steve’s scoops ahoy uniform?

hi, my love! thanks so much for your request!! what better way to celebrate july 4th (aka stranger things 3 day) than by commemorating steve harrington in his scoops ahoy uniform? tw for smut mdni!! (2.1k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

When Steve told you he got a job slinging ice cream at the mall downtown, you didn’t think much of it.

In fact, you spent the better part of that conversation comforting him. It was an existential crisis of sorts, wherein he’d spun himself into a panic about not going to college, not being successful, and not providing for you in the way that partners are supposed to.

You figured it was a bruise to the ego more than anything — especially with his asshole father constantly looming over his shoulder. A steady reminder of what he could’ve been in ways more daunting than just one.

But then he showed you the Scoops Ahoy mandated uniform, held it in his hands with all the boyish reluctance of a child. According to him, the bright blue sailor’s outfit was the most dehumanizing thing of it all. It even came with its own stupid hat.

You were so turned on by the idea of him wearing it, you forgot you were supposed to be consoling him. You quickly forgot why the job was ever a bad idea in the first place. Steve, albeit a bit confused by your sudden giddiness, was more excited to go into work the following Monday when he knew you were visiting him the first chance you got.

You’re practically skipping when you walk into Scoops, skirt swishing around your thighs. It was later in the morning, which meant business was relatively slow. There’s an older couple sharing a sundae at one of the booths, but other than that, you’re the only customer in the store.

Steve stands at the register with a smile on his face he doesn’t know is there. He’s been a real grouch all morning, but he’s forgotten why at the sight of you.

You beam at him, propping your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Do the line,” you gush.

His chest inflates with a deep breath in, then deflates with a sharp exhale. You don’t even notice that it’s a sigh of annoyance at first, too focused on the scarlet tie around his shoulders and the tufts of chest hair peeking out from the top of it.

“Ahoy, sweetheart,” he greets, still grinning despite his lack of enthusiasm. He tilts his head to his shoulder and recites his line: “‘Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me today? I’ll be your captain’— How was that?”

“Even better in uniform,” you marvel in a lilt. Then you squint at him. “I better be the only customer you’re using that sweetheart line on, though, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs like the thought of saying it to anyone else is appalling. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world I’ve ever called sweetheart, sweetheart.”

“Good. I plan on it staying that way.”

The boy smiles to himself.

He likes when you get all possessive. Maybe because he spent the majority of his past relationships having to be the jealous one — always worried about never being good enough, being left. He likes how confident he is in the fact that you only have eyes for him. Even if he is wearing a stupid sailor’s uniform.

“What do you what, huh?” the boy asks as he pulls out his metal scoop from the apron tied around his hips. “Choco-mint with chocolate sprinkles?”

He’s already spooning the green ice cream onto a cone for you before you say a word. You like that you never have to tell him what you want, that he knows you like the back of his hand already.

“Ooh. He looks good in a sailor’s outfit, and he’s attentive?” you singsong lowly. “I think you might be a keeper, Steve Harrington.”

The boy rolls his eyes as he turns away from you. He walks to the opposite wall, where several containers of variously colored sprinkles sit in a large tub. When he bends over to smother your cone in the chocolate kind, the white hem of his shorts climbs up his thighs. You almost forget to breathe.

Steve turns around to catch you staring. You don’t even blink.

“Stop ogling at me,” he laughs with pink cheeks. “It’s getting weird, babe.”

Your brows pinch. “Why is it weird to look at my boyfriend?”

“Because your boyfriend looks like an idiot. Like, this should not be turning you on, sweetheart.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Stevie,” you shrug with a whimsical sigh.

He meets your smirk with a half-hearted scowl and passes you the ice cream cone. When your tongue darts out to taste it, his brain malfunctions for a moment. “Seriously, babe,” he scoffs when his senses return to him. “What about any of this is attractive to you?”

Your head tilts as you scan his muscular form, looking far more boyish than usual in his flamboyant uniform. “Well, for starters, those ankle socks are strangely sexy—”

Steve snorts at the offbeat start to your list.

“—And your thighs look delectable in those shorts. Your arms do, too. You’ve been working out so much, they barely fit in those sleeves,” you compliment. The corner of your mouth quirks into a half-smile as your eyes flit up to his hair. “Also, something about the hat and ascot combo is really doing it for me.”

Robin comes out of the break room then. The door swishes back and forth. “You could’ve just said everything and be done with it,” she grouses as she clumsily sits her white cap on her head.

She looks about as grumpy as Steve, like something about the linoleum tile and fluorescent lighting is sucking the lives out of the two of them.

“Don’t worry. You look hot too, Buckley,” you promise with a smirk.

Her head tilts sweetly to the side as she musters a grin of her own. “Thank you.”

You turn back to Steve with an expectant gaze. “When do you go on break again?”

He twists his wrist to check his watch as you take another lick of your ice cream cone.

Robin answers for him. “Now, preferably.”

“What?” the boy asks with furrowed brows. “I still have, like, fifteen minutes left.”

“Just go fuck and get it over with,” she groans, ocean-blue eyes wide and pleading. “I can practically smell the sexual tension radiating off both of you.”

Steve wants to argue, but you only smile. You nod your head towards the exit. “C’mon, sailor.”

He has no choice but to follow behind you. He’s been doing it for years now, and you haven’t disappointed him once. You lead him by his hand through the bustling mall, chucking your half-eaten cone into the bin when you reach the entrance.

Steve isn’t surprised when you wind up at his car in the employee parking section. He swirls with a boyish excitement, anyway.

Everything feels so new with you.

Even the things he’s done a thousand times.

Including, but not limited to, fucking you in the backseat of his car.

You’re on him the second you shut the door behind you. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his thighs, kissing him with the intent to swallow him whole.

Steve’s hands are limp at his sides in shock. It leaves you doing most of the work yourself, pulling down his blue shorts and gray underwear in one fell swoop. You tuck the hem of them beneath his heavy balls and half-hard cock.

His head falls back against the seat when you start fisting him completely stiff.

You twist your wrist in the way you know he likes — squeezing him towards the top before falling to the stem of his cock again. Your thumb swipes over his bulbous head to collect the pearly pre-come beading there.

If you had enough room in the backseat of his Beamer, you might’ve forgone the sex entirely and just taken him into your mouth right then.

Steve’s rosy mouth falls agape to billow pretty little moans for you. You tug on the red tie around his neck to get his attention again. His glazed-over, honey eyes flutter open to find your smirking face.

“Can I take a ride on your ocean of flavor, Stevie?” you tease with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“It’s ‘set sail,’ but yeah— shit,” he swears when your thumb grazes his leaking tip again. “Of course, you can, sweetheart…”

With his consent, you grip the bottom of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line him with your pulsating entrance. He might’ve asked if you wanted a little preparation first, but when his silky head grazes your satin walls, he knows you’re more than wet.

Your pussy’s already drooling all over him, and he isn’t even inside you yet.

The both of you exhale low moans when you finally slip him within you. Your walls are warm and wet — the softest velvet imaginable, and perfectly snug around his achingly hard cock. You keep your fingers wrapped around the tie on his chest, using it for leverage as you grind your hips back and forth over his thighs.

Steve goes pussy drunk almost instantly, babbling like crazy at the feeling of your cunt sucking him further and further inside of you.

“Oh, my fucking god, baby,” he moans, the words sounding stiff as they spill from his tightening throat. “You feel so good. So tight, too— Shit. Pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart.”

He can’t see you from this angle — can’t see the way your dripping cunt takes him so well or the way your ass glides perfectly over his heavy balls. But he can picture it, can feel your slick drenching his pubic hair and happy trail.

He so desperately wishes it were possible to fuck you with his cock and have you ride his face at the same time. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.

But this is good for now.

This is perfect.

With the energy he’s got left from his drifting senses, he grips the plush of your ass. He spreads your flesh apart, and the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin makes you clench around him. He almost loses it, then — when the smacking of your thighs and the wet squelch of your drenched pussy fills the small car, going slowly cloudy with your entwining heavy breaths.

“You’re so hot, Stevie,” you manage through labored pants. Your heavy-lidded gaze threatens to close, but you don’t want to stop looking at the boy below you. You want to commit all his features to memory — his pink kiss-bitten mouth, reddened cheeks, and honeyed eyes. You want the image of his fucked-out features to stain your mind forever.

“God, babe,” he sighs breathlessly, a moan mixed with a soft laugh. “I still don’t— I really don’t get it, sweetheart.”

“Are you seriously complaining?” you smirk as you glide your hips over his thighs again.

Your swollen clit catches the polyester of the bottom of his shirt. You swear your eyes cross as your mouth opens in a low keen.

When your pussy clenches at the ethereal feeling, his cock jerk within your tightening velvet. Both of you are nearing your orgasms full throttle now. You can almost taste the sweet vanilla of your climax.

“No. Fuck no, I’m not complaining,” he assures with a shake of his head. “You’re just really fucking confusing and really fucking hot... Fuck—”

His head falls back again, exposing the golden tendons of his neck. You’d bite at them if you could stop looking at him. You smile even though he’s not looking at you — even though your thighs are burning and your knee is digging into the seat belt latch. “I can’t wait to fuck you when you get off.”

“Yeah?” he hums, eyes still halfway closed.

“Yeah,” you repeat with a nod, still rocking against his lap while his cock rubs relentlessly at the deepest parts of you. Your clit catches his shirt with every pass of your hips, sending a white-hot feeling of nearly unbearable pleasure shooting up your spine. “So I can get a real good look at you while you fuck me in this uniform.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He tries not to come at the sound of your voice and how the words spill like honey from your mouth.

Despite the less-than-ideal location — at the edges of a mostly empty lot — he doesn’t want this to be over quite yet. He wants to feel you gush on his cock over and over and over again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to focus on work until you do.

If he knew that slinging ice cream for three dollars an hour in a stupid sailor’s outfit would drive you this crazy, he would’ve dropped out of school and put in an application forever ago.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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ghostfacesvalentine · 2 months

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Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

#blegh hate this but you can have it #my allergies are really bad today #been sneezing like crazy #my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard #BUT OH WELL #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months

Text

jealous!harry headcannons

-> Whenever someone flirts with you, Harry's jaw clenches involuntarily. His emerald green eyes narrow ever so slightly, a subtle sign that he's not entirely pleased with the attention you're receiving.

-> Harry doesn't even realize it, but his hand often finds its way to your lower back when another person enters your personal space. It's a subtle way of showing people that you're taken, a possessive touch that never fails to make you smirk.

-> His lips form an adorable pout when he notices someone charmingly complimenting you. He might act nonchalant, but that little pout reveals the hint of jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

-> When you catch him staring intensely at you while you're engaged in conversation with someone else, it's not just admiration. Those silent stares are his way of saying, "You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

-> Whenever you make out, or during sex, he likes to bite on your neck. Even though you ask him to not bite you at the visible spaces, but he always does. Just under your jaw, at the junction of your neck and shoulder, at the side of your neck, at your jugular almost possesively, to show that he is the only one who gets to do that to you.

-> Innocent questions like "Who was that?" or "Do you know them well?" become loaded with an undercurrent of jealousy. He might pretend it's just curiosity, but his heart beats a little faster as he waits for your response.

-> Harry's fingers might "accidentally" brush against yours when he senses someone watching a little too closely. It's a subtle way of reminding everyone that he's the one who gets to hold your hand.

-> In group settings, he strategically positions himself between you and any potential threats. It's a protective move that ensures he can keep a watchful eye and be ready to intervene if necessary.

-> He becomes unusually vocal about his love for you when he senses competition. Expect random declarations of affection and praise, as he wants the world to know just how amazing you are.

-> These may even get a bit heated when there's no one close, like whispers of "my good girl, aren't you?" "so good for me, baby. look so well by my side" "can't wait to have my head between those pretty thighs of yours" "you're all fucking mine, aren't you doll?"

-> While he may not growl audibly, the subtle, low vibrations that escape his chest when he feels jealous are enough to send shivers down your spine.

-> You'll notice him dressing a bit sharper or wearing outfits that accentuate his features when he knows you might encounter someone who could trigger his jealousy. It's his way of making sure he's the most appealing person in the room, to show just how worthy of you he is.

-> Harry's teasing takes on a whole new level when he's jealous. His playful banter becomes slightly more pointed, like "accidental" brushes of his hand on your inner thighs, innocent kisses on your neck that always leave you turned on, and hiding his love boner by holding you as close to him as possible, his cock pushing it's way between your ass cheeks, because "wouldn't want anyone to see how hard i'm for you, love"

-> Grunts and whispers of "you're mine" and "just fucking mine", "you belong to me, don't you? all fucking mine" while he's fucking you into oblivion. It's similar when he has his sinful mouth between your thighs: "taste so fucking sweet" "all this for me?" as if it could ever be anyone else except him.

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xlatiwritesx · 4 months

Note

hi there hope you're having a great day! it's my first time requesting in general and was wondering if i can request lando norris imagine? after both him and the reader decided to hard launch on social media, he brought her to the race for the 1st time and fans absolutely adore her in general. hope this makes sense thank you sm! (reader is a very private person in general)

Mine, Not Theirs | LN4

A/N: sorry if it took me long, but thank you for this request, Anon! This is so cute 😞❤️‍🩹. I hope you like it!!

Genera: Fluff

Words: 1.9K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

…

"OH MY GODDDDD"

"So she is the one"

"Now we know the reason behind all the smiles during this season's races"

You smiled at all the comments left under Lando's post. You were sat on your hotel room’s bed, hugging your knees and smiling like an idiot at your phone for the past hour.

"Had I known you'd be smiling like this, I would've hard launched us sooner" you heard him speak, but your eyes kept staring at your picture that he posted. The picture that sent the internet into a spiral.

It was simple, you kissing Lando where you assumed his lips would be under his helmet, holding the sides of it. It was all loud and clear. Your smile on your exposed face, his name and number on the helmet. His McLaren suit. It was all out for the world to see, and it made your heart twist in the happiest ways.

"Hey, so" Lando walked closer to you, resting down on the edge of the bed and finally having your attention.

"Now that the whole world knows, I want you to come to races with me, starting with tomorrow’s" he confessed. Your smile slowly faded and you looked away from him.

He knew proposing such a thing when you've just publicized your relationship wouldn't be easy for you. You weren't the most outgoing or the best at dealing with all the press and fame that came from being with someone like Lando.

You looked back at him and saw him already losing hope. You had to try. He deserved at least that. He's been nothing but respectful and supportive of your wishes to keep your relationship private, but now things changed. You wanted to try for him just like he did for you.

"Okay" you said simply, not tearing your eyes from him to watch his reaction. He looked at you blankly.

"Wait, really?" A smile broke on his face. You nodded.

"Like 'hey guys this is the love of my life joining me for today's race' okay?" He asked again, carefully. You laughed and nodded again to reassure him.

"Yes!" He punched the air and you stood up, still laughing.

"Finally" he spread his arms, looking up at the ceiling.

After enjoying Lando's little celebration, you ran to your suitcase. You had to find something to wear. This was the first time anyone would see you. Not to mention the entire world.

A dress? Pants and a shirt? Classy? Casual?

You sat in the pile of your clothes, finding something suitable. Your eyes landed on a white top. Denim mini skirt. You narrowed your eyes. Smiled.

"These two with Lando’s McLaren bumper jacket" you announced to no one but yourself.

The next day, you started getting ready for the race. You curled your hair, did your light make up to perfection, and put on the outfit you picked out the night before.

You got in the car with Lando who was fully aware of your nerves ever since you woke up. He held your hand and that was enough to boost your confidence.

When you reached the circuit, your heart began beating at a dangerous speed. Lando's hand tightened around yours and he looked at you before getting out of the car. You could already see the many reporters there to document everyone's arrival. Your breath got heavier.

"Hey. Eyes on me, okay?" Lando whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and relaxed a little.

"No matter what anyone writes on those stupid platforms, you're mine, not theirs, okay? I'm proud you're the one I'm brining to today's race" he reassured you, hoping it would make you feel even more relaxed. He knew what it was like to be under the spotlight and having his every move scrutinized. It can get hard at times.

You smiled and looked down. He kissed your cheek before opening the car door, the commotion outside no longer muffled.

"Let's go" he ushered and you followed. Still holding his hand.

Even though it was very much light out, the camera flashes were still blinding. You kept your head down because it would've been overwhelming to look straight ahead. You held on to Lando's hand as he lead you to the paddock.

Once inside, you finally look up at the many faces there. Drivers, their families, managers, friends, girlfriends.

Some smiled. Some scrutinized. One Aussie accent cheered.

"Hey!" He greeted excitedly, opening his arms wide to give you a hug. You quickly let go of Lando's hand and hug Oscar.

"It's finally good to see you here" he said excitedly when you pull away. You smiled at him, eternally grateful for making you feel so welcome.

"Thanks, Oscar" you replied shyly. You could feel Lando beaming next to you.

"He goes crazy when you're not around. All he talks about is you. Hopefully he won’t be so annoying today since you’re here" he lowers his voice, playfully punching his teammates arm next to you. You laugh.

Oscar starts talking to Lando about the track and what to be expected. Lando wraps an arm around your waist and you listen to them talk.

It's a miracle that you were actually into the races and Formula 1 in general. You wouldn't have lasted too long with Lando if you weren't. It was his career after all, so naturally it was what he talked about most.

“Okay. We gotta get to the cars now. Shit’s about to get serious” Oscar clapped. Lando nodded and looked at you.

“You’ll be good here? Or you want to watch the race in the garage?” He asked you gently. You looked around at the drivers leaving, all their friends and family choosing to stay at the paddock. You turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll be fine around here. Maybe get to know some new people” you told him and he nodded letting go of your hand to hold your face and kiss you cheek.

You blushed as he walked away, turning to wave at you one last time.

“Take care, Lan!” You yelled and he turned to face you, walking backwards for a few steps.

“Anything for you, my love!” He shouted back, causing people to look. Your heart raced, but your eyes were only on him as he turned back around to continue walking next to Oscar.

You sigh, hoping people would actually be nice. Walking around the paddock, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn quickly, faced with a girl a little too pretty.

“First time around here?” She asks. You smile and nod.

“Great! I get to show you around!” She says excitedly, pulling your arm and walking inside.

You’re welcomed by about 5 more faces around a table. People your age. Girls. You felt overwhelmed by their stares, but you promised to give this whole thing a chance.

“We’ve got a McLaren girlfriend everyone!” She announces and everyone starts cheering. You laugh at how silly it seemed, yet so sweet.

“I’m Lily by the way, your co-McLaren-girlfriend” she finally introduces herself. Your smile widens, feeling a sense of belonging somehow.

Lily guides you to the table with five chairs already occupied, you and her filling the sixth and seventh spots. Everyone seemed to be your age. Maybe one or two years younger or older.

“First race nerves?” Another girl asked, taking a sip from her glass. You nodded, still smiling.

“We were all there. It all seems intimidating at first, the cameras, the questions, the race itself!” Another one continued. You frowned a little, nodding along.

You realized you hadn’t said a single word. You really weren’t the best at small talk, but you owed it to them to at least say a yes or no.

“I’m Y/N, by the way” you said finally and they all smiled, acknowledging that new piece of information.

“You should he added to our group chat. We find each other every race day, catch up and have some free food, you know” Lily nudged you and you laughed a little. You hand her your phone, allowing her to do whatever.

When she hands it back to you, you see that you’ve been added to a group chat titled “the gas station ⚡️”. You frown in confusion and look up at them.

“The gas station?” You raise a brow and some of them laugh.

“We give them fuel, now don’t we girls?” One of them raised her brow and you just covered your face and laughed. A little too hard.

“We’ve got the same sense of humor. We’ll go a long way” a girl on your right patted your back as you collected yourself.

“Ugh” you sigh, finally able to hold in your laughter.

When the race starts, you come completely undone. Screaming with everyone and hugging anyone around when necessary. Lando finishes with P-3 and you couldn’t wait to celebrate that with him at the podium.

“You get to celebrate on the podium!” Some of the girls scream and it was just then that you realize how amazing this whole experience has been.

These girls have never met you in their lives, your boyfriend just won against all their boyfriends and they had every reason to be full of themselves, but they were nothing but sweet and lovely to you, making you feel so welcome and for the first time ever since you started dating Lando, you find someone who’d be as excited for him as you. Because they know what’s it like to watch the love of your life win at something he’s passionate about.

“Go go go!” They push you out so you could get to the podium for celebration.

You all get to the track to celebrate with your significant others. You spot a pretty face and curly hair in the crowd. For once, you really don’t care that everyone’s watching. That this could be on live television. You just run, jumping in his arms. He holds you tightly, spinning you around as his sweet laughter fills your ears, muting any other possible sound around you.

When Lando finally puts you down, you basically scream in his face.

“P-3, Lan! That was amazing!” He laughs at your reaction and you laugh with him.

“I knew you were here. I couldn’t let you down” he says and you hug him tightly. He hugs you back.

“You’re my everything. I do this for you” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. You close your eyes, praying your heart won’t explode from pure happiness and content.

Had you just known how amazing everyone would be, you would’ve come sooner. Had you known how much it meant to Lando, you would’ve come even sooner.

You pull away and kiss him, making up for all the time you spent feeling nervous. For not shouting about this from the rooftops. For staying behind on all the fun and welcoming, lovely souls you you met today.

“It seems that today’s race gets a fairytale ending for Lando Norris and his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N”

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