Harry ‘Hot Shot’ Styles, Obscenity Studio’s most famous and successful porn star, has a crush on someone he shouldn’t. You, a set assistant that’s only just recently joined the team, and someone who couldn’t care less about the company's biggest and brightest star.
But when the pair of you are left alone together to watch Hot Shot’s latest movie, things don’t quite stay that way…
Mature Content: explicit language, watching porn, references to squirting/rough sex/handjob and blowjob, oral sex (f receiving) & hair pulling. More tension/yearning than smut. For an 18+ audience only.
Word Count: 6k
Tried a different POV with this one to what I usually write in — it’s all from a heavily pining Harry's perspective — and I love how it turned out. I think it’s one of the best pieces I’ve written!
Thank you so much to the anon that requested this back in October. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I had so much fun dipping my toe in porn star h waters 🤭
There will be a part 2...
Normally a confident, well-put-together guy, Harry is completely flustered by you, Obscenity Studios’ latest set assistant. And with him as the company's most famous, successful and popular porn star, being flustered by you – or anyone, for that matter – is not something he’s really meant to be.
The attraction to you was instant. The infatuation, too. Even after the working day was done, Harry just couldn’t get you out of his mind.
The way you style your hair. The shape of your eyes framed by thick lashes. The plumpness of your mouth never without cherry chapstick – something he often fantasies licking off your lips.
Your outfits, casual and comfortable for long days on set, but stylish enough that he was influenced to introduce some similar items into his own wardrobe; the stack of mixed-metal pendants around his neck and the dark-humoured slogan, cute-animal print ringer tee tight on his toned torso proof of that. Your voice. Your walk. Christ, even the way you breathe, which isn’t any different to how anyone else does it, really, but it’s you doing it so it’s special and perfect and he just can’t stop obsessing over it and every other little thing that makes you you.
Yeah, it’s safe to say Harry is down bad. And that’s a real rarity for him given his line of work and the fact that even before he became an adult film actor a few years ago, he always opted for casual flings with little to no emotions attached, erring more on the side of no.
And what only makes it worse — or rather better, considering he’s a bit of a masochist — is that you could not give two shits about him.
Being the star of the studio, everyone panders to Harry. Treats him like the minor celeb he is, which he doesn’t mind at all. He’s worked hard to get to where he is — pun intended. It’s nice to reap those rewards. To be a little bit of a diva at times, though nothing too crazy. He’s still a gentleman, of course.
When required, at least.
But you, well… you simply don’t do that. You treat Harry how you do every other actor, which is professional, a little bit guarded, and a lot grumpy.
There’s no special treatment for him from you, which he loves despite also loving the way everyone else sucks up. You’re different, with your claws sunk deep into Harry without even realising you’ve sunk them at all.
And that only makes him like, want, need you more.
Where the real problem arises regarding his obsession with you, however, is that he struggles to keep focus when at work. Specifically during scenes.
Yep, that’s right. Harry’s eyes have wandered toward you on more occasions that he can count when he should be looking at the person he’s balls deep in.
Yet he just simply can’t help but stare at you, an addiction so bad that he’s even been caught and called out on it once by Jolie, the studio’s director.
That led him to blush and apologise, and you — totally unaware he was even looking at you in the first place because you were on your phone most likely ordering or organising something for the studio — to roll your eyes a little, clearly annoyed that the scene was taking longer than it should because the star wasn’t doing what he was meant to be doing: a busty blonde by the name of Crystal.
After that, Harry managed to snap back into work mode.
Well, sort of.
Those rolling eyes of yours gave him plenty of incentive to screw the life out of his on-scene partner, but he didn’t see her face or feel her cunt anymore.
No, it was all you, and he unleashed holy hell until the woman he was actually fucking squirted so much, screaming his name as she did, that it caused applause from all the crew. Including you.
That notice from you has only left Harry craving more. But given how rattled you’ve made him, he doesn’t know how to get more.
He truly hasn’t a clue on how to act around you. How to approach you besides the usual brief and basic pleasantries you exchange. How to make you feel even a sliver of how he feels: fucking possessed.
And right now, being in so close proximity to you in the editing room while you, him and Jolie watch the final cut of his latest movie, Harry has half a mind to sneakily Google the number of any nearby priest that can perform an exorcism on him. In his mind, it’s the only solution to his pesky little problem.
Like you and Jolie are doing, Harry should be giving the monitor his full attention. Except that gauging your reaction to what’s going on on screen is way more important to him. It doesn’t help his situation where you’ve bewitched him mind, body and soul, but the masochist in him simply has to enjoy the suffering a little bit more.
Though is it really suffering when what he feels right now looking at your flushed cheeks and bitten bottom lip is pure pleasure? You’re shy, and he’s caused that. Or rather the on screen version of him has.
Either way. A win is a win.
What’s even better is you’re turned on, too. Or at least Harry thinks you are, if your pupils blown-out like a drop of iodine to water is something to go by, anyway.
This is the first time Harry has seen you like this, given you’re usually professional and completely unphased where porn is concerned (one has to be in order to work in the industry) so naturally, he’s in his goddamn element. Naturally, he’s hoping you’re wet between your pressed-together thighs, the clipboard on top ready to take down notes on any last-minute edits gone forgotten about.
You’re so engrossed with the footage playing out to do your job, and Harry is practically vibrating with giddiness knowing that.
The filmed scene goes like this: Harry, tired after a hard day at work, comes home and runs himself a bath. He relaxes in the tub, letting the warm water soak into his skin and undo the knots of tension that have built up in his body for much too long, and plays with himself a little.
But it just isn’t enough. He needs something more. Someone else.
Enter Ruby, a curvy red-head with freckles, dimples and a very skilled tongue, who offers to help out her ‘roommate’. Because what else are friends for if not to assist your need to unwind with a lethal handjob-blowjob combo?
Harry had a great time shooting with Ruby. An even better time shooting all over her, too. She’s yet to appear on screen – it’s just a naked Harry solo in the tub with a wandering hand at the moment – and would be here watching the final cut (as is usually the case for all stars involved in each film so they can present any thoughts or request any edits before it heads out into the world), but she’s on an overseas work trip right now and had her own screening of it prior to leaving. It’s just Jolie, you, him, and his slowly growing hard-on.
As though scripted like a corny porno Harry has proudly made his fair share of, Jolie’s phone rings. She picks up the call, mumbles a couple of curse words both during the brief chat and after ending it, and then excuses herself from the room with a cut-to-the-chase explanation about some lighting issues on set that need her immediate attention, leaving behind you and two Harry’s, because the movie is still playing and you’re still glued to it.
With the clicking sound of the door closing behind Jolie, the small, low-lit editing room grows a few degrees hotter. A few notches more tense. A hell of a lot more quiet, despite the ragged breaths On Screen Harry exudes increasing in volume as he lazily strokes his cock in the bathtub. The slapping sound of the water recorded matches up with the beat of his heart in real time – slow, steady, but excited.
Nervous, too.
You and him haven’t been in a room alone together before, never mind one with a monitor showing what he does for work regardless of you seeing him live in action more times than he can count. He’s freaking out in both the best and worst way. Should he speak? Do something? He really doesn’t know.
His moment of turmoil comes to a swift but surprising end a few seconds later when you do both things by leaning forward to crank up the volume a tad while softly enquiring, “Ruby comes in soon, right?”
Harry blinks a few times, though you don’t see. Your gaze is still fixed to the screen, specifically on his right hand working the crown of his cock in slow circles, and he’s still shocked to hear you speak. It’s a rarity unless required.
“Pardon?”
“Ruby.” You wet your bottom lip, the semi Harry’s been sitting with for at least ten minutes now fully solid and painfully pushing against the zipper of his jeans thanks to that little lick. “She’s due on screen in a minute or two, yes?”
“Yes,” Harry confirms, though the three-letter word barely came out coherently. He swallows hard and tries again. “Yes, she does.” A pregnant pause, then he barrels on to ask, “Why?”
The delicate column of your throat bobs with a gulp. The soft sound would ordinarily be inaudible, but it’s just you and Harry in here and he’s so fucking tuned into every move, noise, breath you make anytime anywhere, so of course he heard it. He treasures it, too.
“Just wondering.”
Among many other talents – the list is endless, Harry being the type of person that can turn their hand to anything and be immediately good at it – he can detect bullshit like no other. Call it out, as well. There’s nothing to stop him from doing it now.
But he won’t.
Why, you may wonder? Well, because he’s a twenty-nine year-old porn star who’s as terrified of a woman as he is turned on by her, and he knows well and good that all of his vast experience over the years with the fairer sex both on and off screen is irrelevant. You’re nothing like those women, therefore none of his typical tactics will work.
So, instead, he decides to keep his mouth shut, discreetly readjust his cock in his pants until the pain-level percentage drops from one-hundred to ninety-nine, and wait to see what you do next, because it’s a certainty to him that you will do something. Harry is as sure of that as he is his crush on you.
By the next time you speak, minutes that feel like eons have passed. Ruby has arrived. On screen, that is; in the editing room, it’s still just you, Harry, his hard dick – which has since developed its own heartbeat – and the statement you made that lingers thickly in the air, altering Harry’s world forevermore.
“I’d have done that differently.”
Five words in reference to Ruby’s handjob/blowjob technique in which On Screen Harry dramatised the way his eyes rolled back into his head and how staggered his breaths were for the sake of making porn. It’s an expected thing to do, no slight on how talented the performers are. Ruby gives good head. It’s just that Jolie wants great. As does the audience.
Five words in reference to Ruby’s handjob/blowjob technique in which Real Life Harry doesn’t have to dramatise a goddamn thing about his reaction. The way his eyes roll into the back of his head and how staggered his breaths have suddenly turned is au naturale; no porn being made. It’s an unexpected thing to happen to him, all the props given to how talented you are through words alone. Harry can barely begin to wrap his head around how fucking beyond great yours would be. Jolie would lose her shit.
As Ruby fills her throat with On Screen Harry like her life depends on it, Real Life Harry has to unclog his own. Every thought he’s ever had is trapped inside the column of blood vessels and muscle and whatever else makes up the organ, and if he isn’t careful, he might spew them all up at once and leave you with no choice but to point and laugh at him. Worse yet, he might say something slightly dramatic and not completely inaccurate like I love you, which will inevitably send you running for the hills, because of course it would. It’s totally insane.
After a moment, he’s somewhat straightened out. Or straightened out enough to try his luck with a cheeky response of, “Oh yeah? How?”
For the first time, you look away from the monitor to Harry, and he simply swoons. Because you’re smiling now, brightly, and blushing just as so. There’s a twinkle in your eyes locked on his that tells him something different to the reply you’re about to give.
But that’s okay with the adult film star. He’s got your attention, and he could bust a load from that alone.
“Nice try, Hot Shot.” Your grin softens a tad while his grows impossibly large. His porno name sounds as delicious on your tongue as he just knows your taste would be on his. “Not a chance.”
Curving his lips into a smirk, all the bravado he possesses displayed so clearly through that expression you don’t stand a chance of knowing how nervous he actually is, Harry shrugs flippantly. “Had to shoot my shot.” And then he’s nudging his chin toward the monitor so you can see the facial On Screen Him has just given Ruby. “Double pun intended.”
You laugh, and with it, Harry quickly realises he was a fool to think his life was altered via your I’d have done it differently comment when that sound has officially done the trick.
It’s a tinkling melody so opposite to your typically gloomy aesthetic and attitude, it’s downright dizzying, yet one that every musician should study. Praise. Try and fail to replicate, because nothing that perfect can be mastered by man.
The screen goes as black as your sleeveless dress and lace-up boots outfit, your trill giggle replaced by the noises of two pairs of lungs; yours soft and steady, Harry’s working overtime.
He can’t remember a time he’s ever felt as breathless as this in all his life. Not even during the orgy filmed last summer that catapulted his career to new heights. Or the predator/prey scene filmed the summer before that where, masked up, he had a great time chasing his friend and colleague Flora through a forest and fucking her amongst the leaves and dirt after he caught her peachy ass. Or the time he and an old hook-up snorted a few lines of fuck knows what and went at it from sunset to sunrise, and then snorted a few more to keep going until the second sundown, determined to break self-set sex records. Which they absolutely did.
It’s quiet in the editing room, but by no means silent. The stifling tension is as loud as a concert crowd when the star of the stage first takes to it. As exciting as it, too.
And like you did just before while watching Ruby work her mouth and fist, you open the former and squeeze Harry’s heart with the latter, breaking eye contact while speaking words that render him utterly gobsmacked. Entirely giddy. Completely fucking gone.
“I wish it had just been you on screen.”
Much to his surprise, Harry mentally recovers a lot quicker than he did earlier. He supposes the reason he’s able to bounce back so fast is because your focus is fixed to the blank screen once more.
But his, of course, is fixed on you. Speaking from experience, he thinks – knows – it always will be, even when you’re not around.
“Come again?”
You look his way, the crinkles at the corner of your eyes so sweet that Harry’s teeth start aching. Your smile so blinding, Harry’s kicking himself for leaving his Raybans in the cup holder of his canary yellow Ferrari Dino. Your whole being so stunning, he’s forgotten all about wanting to call a priest for an exorcism. Not when every fibre of him wants to pour all of that energy into building a park inspired by your beauty: his very own Garden of Babylon for you, his Queen.
The poetic ramblings of his mind come to a sharp stop when you hum, “Another pun?” only to start up again when you giggle.
But for the sake of banter, he shelves his yearn-filled thoughts. Delivers a chuckle and dose of cheekiness, instead.
“Maybe… maybe not.” Because it’s true. It could be considered a pun, but given the way he’s literally fit to burst just by being in your proximity, it’s also just a straight-up truth.
In fact, given that he’s a puddle of goo just for you, Harry isn’t 100% confident that he hasn’t come already.
A lick of your lips follows his tease, a bite to your bottom one following the lick. Harry exhales a shaky breath, vision tunnelled in on that innocent-looking motion made all the more not-so-innocent coming after your eight word-long statement: I wish it was just you on screen.
He really wants to press you on that, but he doesn’t get the chance. Two quick beeps in quick succession emanating from the phone in your dress’ pocket dissolves whatever moment was happening, and whatever whirlwind was about to happen, quicker than you can say ‘boner’.
Speaking of which, Harry’s is determined to burst from his pants and touch Mars. Jupiter. Uranus.
Fuck. The thought of yours just nearly knocked his light’s out.
“It’s Jolie.” Your voice pulls him from the self-induced, short-lived coma Harry was sent into just thinking about fucking your ass, a slight frown marring your usually stoic, always stunning face as you read the text aloud. “Said she’s not gonna be able to make it back here to finish the proof-watch. A couple of bulbs have popped in Studio 1, so they’re having to set up in Studio 2 to re-do and get today’s shoot done. I’m to see if you have any issues with the film. Report back to her either way.”
The clicking sound of your phone automatically locking after a few idle seconds urges Harry to swallow hard. Shake his head. Smirk that smirk of faux bravery, hoping it makes him feel it for real. He, for some reason, has the strong instinct he’ll need it. And soon.
A nod from you, your fingers a blur as they work across the screen to unlock and type out a message to Jolie, who responds just as fast.
“She said great. That’s us finished for the day.”
Actually, we’re just getting started, Harry thinks.
He opens his mouth to say something of the like, but you beat him to it with movement. You stand tall. Smooth out your dress. Fiddle with the pendants around your neck. Tuck the clipboard under your arm and your phone back in your pocket. Cast a quick look Harry’s way, one he perceives as a silent beg for him to make sure the next thing you plan on doing doesn’t happen.
Leave.
Luckily for you, for him, for humanity’s future that he’s convinced depends on the pair of you banging it out to survive, all the courage he usually has that ups and goes in your presence has decided to come back at a ten-fucking-fold capacity.
If it didn’t, how else would he have managed to utter, “Please don’t go.”
“Why?” You quip back slowly, yet quickly deposit the clipboard onto the desk as your feet in their chunky boots seemingly lodge themselves into metaphorical cinder blocks. You’re not leaving. Perhaps not now. Maybe not ever.
Or at least not until Harry says, so absolutely not now. Definitely not ever.
And something tells him you’re desperate to hear that as much as he is for you.
He stands too, his wry smile becoming a little wryer at the fact that, thanks to the thick soles of your shoes, you almost reach his six-foot height. If you were bent over that desk you stand before, like he so dreams you were, you’d be lined up perfectly against him. For him.
He makes a mental note that, in his fantasy you’re the shining star of, your footwear stays on. They’re as hot as they are practical.
Even with the advantage of an extra inch or two, you have no choice but to tilt your head back a little when Harry comes to a stop just shy of your toes. He enjoyed the few seconds where you looked down at him (his submissive side is no secret, and also a massive money-earner for him and Obscenity Studio), but really gets his rocks off looking down at you.
Please note: at, not on. That distinction is, and always will be, massively fucking important. Just as obvious, too.
Cocking his head a fraction, Harry lets his eyes take a stroll across your face and all its awestruck, awe-inspiring features. Lets his nostrils subtly suck up the scent of your citrusy perfume that reminds him of summer evenings in his Italian villa. Lets his ears listen to your soft breaths that fan across his neck and chin – that slightly tickle his plump bottom lip. Lets his mind wander to how good he bets you taste. How incredible he bets you feel.
And then, when the rubber band of buzzing energy stretched between you is close to snapping, he gives you an answer, praying that yours in return is on the same wavelength as his.
“Because I want to see the mess watching me on screen has made between your legs.”
A soft gasp from you, the limbs Harry speaks of seen squeezing together no doubt to suppress the throb of arousal he hopes you feel. No doubt spreading that mess he just knows exists, too. He can practically smell it.
If you hadn’t delivered the two rule-breaking, earth-shaking statements, Harry wouldn’t have said what he just did. He might be a playboy pornstar, but he knows how to read a room. Or rather a person. It’s obvious when someone is interested and when they’re not.
But you did. So to him, that was the green light given for him to lay his cards out in a way that will hopefully shake your earth. Break a few more rules. He wants you, badly, and it seems you want him, too.
The saying goes that actions speak louder than words. And you locking eyes with Harry while slowly but surely lifting the hem of your dress up to your waist practically screams.
There’s no hesitance from Harry to break eye contact. No, his gaze flits down to your light grey cotton panties and the dark grey wet stain on them quicker than one can blink, his dry mouth filling with saliva and cock pulsing in time with his heart's rapid beats. His fingers itch to touch you, his tongue yearns to taste you. And his brain is convinced this is all some incredible dream.
That notion doesn’t shake an ounce when a smirking you moves to sit on the computer desk, hands out behind you holding you up, legs spread in front of you welcoming Harry in.
And like a sailor to a siren’s song, he moves into the open space you’ve created. Harry keeps a comfortable distance between your soaked, still-covered cunt and his jean-clad thighs, not wanting to get too ahead of himself, not wanting to rush what he’s waited weeks – months – for, but he can still feel yours trembling either side of his. Paired with the shaky breath you expel, he can tell you’re nervous.
That’s what takes this from being a dream to Harry, to his reality. It’s what makes him let out a sigh of relief, because he’s nervous, too. Nerves are a natural thing for two people together in an intimate position for the first time to feel, but a reaction he has every intention of soothing away with words and touch. For your benefit as much as his.
Hands hovering over your bare thighs, he gives you a tentative smile and a nod of his chin. “May I?”
You give him a full nod back, your own smile just as timid. “Please.”
With a throaty groan he just couldn’t swallow down, Harry makes contact with your soft skin. He works his palms up and down a few times until the shaking stops and every bit of anxiety in you seems to up and leave. Until you’re humming softly, and that shy smile of yours is one of pure satisfaction with a penchant for more.
And then, like the gentleman he is, he gives you more. It’d be rude of him to not.
Fingers gripping your hips, Harry pulls you to the edge of the desk. Slowly sinks to his knees. Takes a gentle hold of your calves, positioning them over his broad shoulders until your knees are hooked and chunky boots hits the base of his back.
All the while, your wide eyes were locked on his. Your mouth popped open in a cute little ‘O’ Harry wouldn’t mind stretching into a bigger one by feeding it his cock.
He shakes that thought, though, because there’s a far more pressing one at the forefront of his mind.
Finding out if you taste as good as you smell.
But first, a question or two. Or rather getting answers to the one you gave and comment you made you went onto deflect with sass and jokes.
With his lips pulled into a smirk ghosting the inside of your thighs where a little of the sweet slickness in your panties has slipped to decorate, Harry begins his inquisition.
“Why did you wish it was just me on screen?”
You seem surprised by Harry bringing that back up again and the fact he hasn’t just dove into your damp underwear, yet manage to recover quickly with a confident shrug. “Because that’s your best content.”
The sound of angels at heaven’s gates plays in his mind now, surprise felt at your revelation he’s so ready to pry into. “Are you speaking from a professional perspective, or a personal one?”
“Personal.” A groan from a grinning Harry, who’s dropped his forehead to rest on your thigh, at your bullet-quick response. “Seeing you live and in action was a massive reason I took this job.”
More surprise barrelling through Harry forces his head up fast, his eyes fixed on yours. “You’re a fan? You’ve watched my films?”
You nod slowly but surely, looking a little shy again despite the certain action. “Big time. All the time. But I’m not a creep or anything.” A nervous giggle from you while his heart skips ten beats. “I’m just a girl with a crush on a pornstar. I never expected this.” You shift a hand to gesture to Harry between your legs, then run it through the front of his floppy locks. “Hell, I avoided this.”
Your behaviour prior to today makes so much sense now. Harry has reframed every interaction and quickly realised that you weren’t acting stand-offish and surly because you didn’t like him. You were feeling quite the opposite.
Just like him.
And that just makes Harry think even more highly of you, if that were a possible thing. You showed restraint and rectitude when he couldn’t. Respected the coworker dynamic, even as an admirer of him that wanted more. That wanted him.
But the gloves are off now. Two hearts are on their owners’ sleeves. Or at least they’re about to be once Harry does his own ‘fessing up.
“More fool you.” He winks, another giggle from you in response before he adds on, “‘Cause I’m a pornstar with a crush on a girl, and I’ve been dreaming of this.” Harry gestures to between your legs, licking his lips as his focused-on-your-pussy eyes go hazy. “Fuck, I think I still am.”
The movement of your head shaking pulls his attention back to your face. “Not a dream, Hot Shot.” And then you lean forward, plump lips hovering over his until you’re sharing breath and Harry can taste the words “But it’s definitely gonna feel like one” on his tongue that’s desperate to plunge into you.
And because he’s been patient enough, Harry wastes no more time to give in to that torment. To give you what you both want; the fingers on his left hand pulling your panties to the side, digits on his right digging into your hip, and muscle in his mouth sinking into your tight little hole in one fast, fluid move.
Your gasp of relief, delight, pure fucking sex, harmonises with the growl Harry lets out. Your taste… It's like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Perhaps the saying of ‘good things come to those who wait’ is true.
Or, the more likely reason: you’re a goddess. His. Of course your nectar would be nothing shy of divine.
He dips in and out, in and out, in and out, using the tip to circle your entrance a couple of times between each exit and reentry. Familiarising himself with not only your body, but what makes it melt and makes you moan. Harry has always been a good student, but with a subject like you? Fuck, anything less than Valedvictorian is simply not enough.
It seems you want him to achieve that scholarly status, given the way your fingers – still in his hair, but now gripping the tresses – manoeuvre him until he’s at your clit. And Harry doesn’t need to be told twice on what to do next, nor did he need the help to find it. But he appreciates your eagerness nonetheless.
While his tongue inside you made you moan, his lips latched to suckle around your swollen bud makes you pant. Your chest rises and falls fast with every one, a gorgeous blush on your cheeks and mouth pulled into a dopey smile Harry will never forget. Not when his eyes are a camera, one blink of them acting as the shutter to take a mental photo of this perfect moment.
Too wrapped up in you, Harry has neglected to dish out any of the dirty talk that he’s fluent in. Famous for. There’s a primal need in him to tell you how fucking heavenly you taste, how sensational your pussy is, how he wants you to drench him in the high he’s working you toward, but that would mean deviating away from the feast he’s fantasised devouring.
And he’s too damn greedy to do such a thing.
So, instead, he adds another language to his repertoire: growls and grunts. A compromise that will only benefit your pleasure given the additional vibration feature, and the fact it’s hot as fuck that you’ve turned him into a territorial caveman that refuses to stop eating.
Add those sounds with the way his nails bite into the skin of your hip, crescent moons destined to be left behind when he finishes his meal (which is only when you finish all over his mouth), and the squelching sounds of the fingers he held your panties to the side with now slipped inside to fuck you where his tongue once did, not a word needs to be said by him. Like you lifting your dress minutes ago, actions speak louder.
You’ve got a few of your own, though.
The stuffy atmosphere of the editing room is colourful with curse words, all of which either come before or after his government or screen name. A few pleas to God, which makes Harry internally laugh, because you’re talking to no one and yourself at the same time. A couple of directions – “More, more, more”, “Faster, Hot Shot”, and “Don’t stop”, which of course Harry pays heed to. The occasional compliment – “Just like that”, “So fucking good” and “You look so pretty with your mouth on me, Harry”, which makes the complimented feel downright giddy knowing he’s getting you off. Because that’s all he wants. All he needs.
And then, with a sore jaw and satisfied grin, Harry gets what he needed, wanted, worked his talented mouth off for. Your thighs enclose around his head, trapping him against your warm and wet cunt in a makeshift tomb he never wants to escape, his airways blocked in a way he fucking loves, his hair being pulled by your hand so firmly it makes him whimper, and you cum.
You cum so hard, so much, you start laughing deliriously. Like you can’t believe this is life and it can feel this good. And because he’s feeling just as dizzy, Harry laughs too; his fingers and mouth rinsing every bit of release from you all the while.
A spent you lets go of Harry’s hair to lie back flat on the desk. You’re too busy shaking, catching your breath, letting out little happy hums, to care about how little space there is to do such a thing.
A delighted Harry pulls his drenched fingers and glossy lips away from your cunt to sit back on his heels. He’s quickly made busy admiring not only your shaky, struggling-to-breathe, little hums of happiness-self, but the way your pretty pussy glistens.
Even in the dim lighting of the editing room, the sheen of satisfaction cannot be missed. And the fact it matches the state of his fingers he immediately sucks clean, pulling the digits out of his mouth with a ‘pop’ that pulls your head up so you can see his smirking face and hear his pleased whine, is a detail that could not go without appreciation.
Your arousal coated his skin – covers his tongue – as much as your aura has clutched his heart.
He smiles at the sentiment only he is privy to, though it won’t stay that way for long. Now that Harry knows his on set obsession goes two ways… there’s nothing stopping him from spilling all.
And thank fuck he never got round to calling for that exorcism. He’s more than happy to stay a haunted man knowing you’re just as haunted as he is.
Harry also never got round to asking you the second question, or rather getting an answer to the bombshell you dropped. But given how energised you look – even after an orgasm that seemed close to taking you out – as you sit up with a smile and lean down to his level, a fire in your eye he wants to engulf himself in, he has every intention of correcting that.
But first, he closes the tiny gap left between your mouths to tick another item off his fantasy list: licking the cherry chapstick from your lips.
One swipe of his tongue ends up not being enough, though – for you or for him. Harry had the sudden urge to mix the fruity flavour with your natural taste, making a delicious cocktail of both in his mouth you dip in to sample; smiling and sighing as you do.
A make out session quickly ensues. Hands roam one another’s bodies, teeth nip one another’s lips – breathy laughs and shared breaths throughout.
It’s as simple as it is sexy. As innocent as it is indecent.
By some sort of miracle – or rather Harry’s curious mind and painful boner desperate for answers and action – he breaks away from your mouth, then flaps his.
“You said you’d have done what Ruby did differently…”
A giggle from you and a small nod, your hands smoothing up Harry’s shirt-clad chest to tease play with his pendants. “I did.”
“Care to tell me?”
Another giggle from you, but a small shake of your head this time. And Harry would be a little disappointed by that if not for your wild eyes, wilder smile, and the words that follow.
summary: the 4 times that fans noticed the way lando was with you and the 1 time they finally realized why.
warnings: none i don't think
1.the garage whispers
fans noticed things, they always did, but sometimes their reasons were a little bit off, like with lando and his girlfriend.
you had been in the mclaren garage one day. while lando's world was loud, yours was quiet. you were completely deaf, you had cochlear implants but sometimes during race weekends they would get overwhelmed with the loud noise making it harder to process what was happening.
one thing that lando never failed to do though was lean closer for you to hear him. his head falling down so his lips were by your ear, making sure your implants could pick up what he was saying.
"you okay?" he asked you, his voice soft and gentle but still loud enough for your implants to pick up easily, his hand gently resting at the small of your back.
you nodded your head with a smile, "just loud" you say softly.
he nodded his head knowing you hated when he fussed over you and that if you got overwhelmed you'd either tell him or you would leave so he knew you were okay.
his hand came up to tap his heart 3 times, not exactly sign language but a sign that you both had started doing, the simple act saying "i love you."
you smiled and tapped your heart back before saying a small goodbye to him as he left to go get ready for qualifying.
the small whispers and acts didn't go unnoticed by fans though, their theories being far from the truth though.
user1: the way lando's so in love with her
user2: watching them whisper to each other feels so intimate
user3: WHAT DID HE SAY TO HER?
2.his little taps
lando didn't ever call for you, even when you could hear him. every time he wanted your attention he would simply tap you, a small shoulder tap, the squeeze of an arm, tap on the wrist, just something small.
one time that it was noticed by fans was when you were walking into the paddock together. lando had gotten stopped by some fans and as if on instinct his hand had come to tap your shoulder to get your attention
you turned to him with a small smile, watching as he didn't say anything simply gesturing to the group of fans letting you know he had stopped to sign some stuff, standing and waiting for him to finish with the fans before you guys continued. nothing had been said between the two of you, just silent communication which definitely caused an uproar between fans.
user1: why did bro tap her instead of calling for her
user2: he's so in love he needs her to feel him before he speaks
user3: they're actually so cute, the way he didn't have to say anything and she knew.
3.face offs
even when you were wearing your cochlears sometimes it was hard to hear so lando would always face you when he spoke so you could read his lips easier.
dinner? he was sat in front of you.
talking with fans? he made sure you were stood in front of who was talking to you if you were with him.
interviews? if you were watching he was always facing you in some way so you could see his lips.
fans picked up on the pattern easily. the way he always stood in front of you before he started speaking, or the way he'd turn your head, it confused them for sure not knowing the reasoning but they still speculated.
user1: lando being a soft boyfriend for the 200th time.
user2: the way he always makes sure she can see him, i love them your honor :(
user3: they're so in love it's sickening
4. the signs
it was a no brainer that lando would learn sign language when you guys started to date, despite being able to hear him with your implants he still wanted to learn so if you weren't wearing them he could communicate.
the moment the fans started noticing was during a podium. lando had just finished in P2 and while he was up there he had signed "i love you" to you. from there the fans had started noticing the smaller moments.
the small signs in the garage when he was talking to you, the random signs in interviews as if someone was watching that he wanted them to see.
a favorite clip would be during one of lando's twitch streams though. he was playing a game but suddenly had paused it turning to look in the doorway. you were off camera so they couldn't see you as you stood trying to get lando's attention without disturbing him.
what they did see though was the way lando turned to you and instead of saying anything he had signed with his hands, a silent conversation just for the two of you.
"sorry guys, just checking something," lando had said after turning back to the stream when you had left, leaving the fans confused.
user1: WAS HE SIGNING?
user2: since when did lando know sign language?
user3: was he signing to Y/N?
+1 the time where everything clicked.
you had been with lando in the paddock one day during a race weekend. at this point you were deaf to the world because the batteries for your implants had died. you were stood scourging for your spares in lando's bag when fans came up, getting lando's attention and trying to get yours.
they were confused when they called your name and you didn't answer until lando tapped you making your head look up from where it was buried searching in the bag on his back, a huge smile coming to your face when you notice the fans.
"hi!" you say as you come to stand at lando's side.
"she's deaf, she can read lips though so just make sure you're facing her when you speak," lando explained, signing with his hands.
the fans' mouths dropped, everything making so much more sense to them, the whispers, the small taps, the way he was always faced to you, the way he knew sign language.
while you talked with fans, taking a couple times to ask for repeats, lando was searching in his bag for your batteries, changing them out for you before a gentle hand came to your shoulder to not startle you as he put them on for you, the noise of the paddock filling your ears as they connected.
the both of you finished talking with the fans, taking a couple pictures with them before saying goodbye, knowing the announcement was about to break the internet.
user1: omg she's deaf it all makes so much more sense now.
user2: STOP HE LEARNED SIGN LANGUAGE FOR HER
user3: lando "i'd learn another language for her" norris
user4: they are actually so cute
everything clicked for the fans after that day, and suddenly lando's love for you was so much bigger, because he didn't just love you, he understood you, and did everything he could do so you could understand him.
Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.
Words: 4.8k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue
Protect Max
Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.
It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.
"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.
"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip
"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"
"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round
"they're so sibling coded"
"not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner"
"she's so gonna beat Max again this round"
“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”
Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.
“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.
"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.
"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.
"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.
He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.
"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.
"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.
"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.
"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.
"lol poor max"
"bet he misses P a lil extra today"
"i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"
The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.
What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.
Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.
" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."
Then, a new message appeared.
"Ed said he let you win this morning."
Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.
"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.
"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.
"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."
The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.
"bro is cooked"
"oh no she's mad"
"not max snitching on lando AGAIN"
"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan."
"Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled.
"You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused.
"Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive.
"You were just playing with Max—"
"—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?"
"Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away."
“How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.
“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.
"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play."
"yeah that's right! you get him baby"
"Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow"
"This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.
Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.
"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.
"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"
"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.
"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.
"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."
"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.
"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.
"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.
"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.
"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"
"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.
"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.
"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.
"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.
"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.
"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.
"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us"
"NOOO don't leave Y/N"
"LN being selfish lol"
"hes neeeedy"
Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.
Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.
Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."
"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.
"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.
Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.
"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.
"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.
A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"
"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"
"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.
Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."
"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.
Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."
Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."
"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.
"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.
She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.
"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."
Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.
"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"
Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.
Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.
It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.
"hi Y/N"
"okay hot mama!"
"Y/N you look stunning babe"
"can Lando fight?"
“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.
And then he saw it.
The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.
His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.
Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”
“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.
As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.
Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.
“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.
Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”
Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”
Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.
Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.
Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”
Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”
"still cant believe he was able to pull her"
"Y/N leave him be with me"
"she looks unreal"
"lando better know how to fight"
Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.
“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.
She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.
“Pick.”
“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.
“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.
Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.
“Lan, it’s really not that—”
Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”
Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.
Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she’s looks like she's about to go to bed”
Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.
“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”
She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”
Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”
It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?
Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.
“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.
Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.
"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here"
"i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls"
"stop asking ab their personal lives guys"
"theyre clearly fine, look at him"
"oh theyre fine lol"
Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”
Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"
Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.
“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.
"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear
Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"
Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"
Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"
Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"
Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.
Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”
Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”
It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.
Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.
“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”
Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.
It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.
“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.
“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”
“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”
“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.
“Shut up, Connor."
Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.
“Lan, it’s been 15.”
“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.
"he's so stubborn lol"
"poor y/n"
"listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"
Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.
“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”
Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”
Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.
Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.
“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”
Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.
“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”
His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.
"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG"
"look at his face she definitely said something"
"bro is cooked lmao"
"lando fumbled baaad"
Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints
"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.
Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.
“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”
Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.
"Max working extra hard tonight"
"LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face"
"Max being the bigger man, respect"
"Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"
Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.
Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.
“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.
“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.
“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.
“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.
Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”
Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”
It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.
"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.
As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”
Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”
Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.
After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”
He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.
"post sex stream is insaaane"
"man was glowing, no wonder"
"PR team fighting for their life after this"
"Landos phone bout to blow up"
"meeting being set up as we speak"
Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”
Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”
Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”
summary: in which lando and your son are fighting for your attention
warnings: two very clingy babies
a/n: first f1 fanfic! lmk what you guys think!
the house is eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the tv in the background. you’re curled up on the couch, flicking through a magazine, legs tucked beneath you. it’s one of those rare moments when everything feels calm—well, that’s about to change. because in this house, peace never lasts long.
theo, your five-year-old, suddenly bursts into the room, his little footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. he’s clutching a set of plastic blocks, face bright with excitement. “mummy, look! i built the biggest tower!” he exclaims, holding them up in front of you like a trophy, his wide eyes pleading for your praise.
you glance up and smile, your heart melting just a little at his enthusiasm. “wow, theo! that’s amazing! you worked so hard on it.”
just as you’re about to reach for the blocks to take a closer look, lando strolls in, hair still damp from his shower, a towel around his neck. he scans the room and spots you on the couch. his eyes gleam mischievously, and before you know it, he’s leaning toward you. “hey, that’s my spot,” he says, playfully pointing at your lap.
theo freezes, glaring at lando as if he just dared to commit a great injustice. “no! mummy’s mine!” theo declares, squeezing tighter around your neck, like a tiny koala.
you laugh softly, amused at how ridiculous this whole situation is. “boys, please. there’s enough of me to go around, okay?”
lando pouts, but it’s clear he’s not giving up that easily. “but i was here first,” he says with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the couch beside you. he leans in closer, clearly making a point to get as close as possible. “i want some attention too.”
theo, sensing the challenge, crosses his arms over his chest. “no, you can’t have her,” he huffs, his little voice firm and adamant.
you try to keep your composure, but it’s hard when both of them are giving you that look—like they’re both fighting for the same thing. your attention. “lando, theo, seriously. you both need to share. i love you both, no need to fight.”
but theo’s not backing down. “mummy, look at my tower! it’s way bigger than daddy’s race car!” he lifts the blocks again, practically shoving them in your face.
lando grins, his eyes narrowing with playful challenge. “oh, really? i think i’ve got a pretty awesome race car. much cooler than a tower.” he leans in, making sure you can hear his tone. “want to see it, babe?”
theo gasps in horror. “no! mummy! look at my tower!” he says, pushing lando’s arm away, as if he could physically block his dad from you. his tiny hands press against lando’s chest, trying to shove him back.
lando raises an eyebrow, impressed. “well, i guess he’s got a bit of me in him, huh?” he grins, nudging theo with his elbow.
theo shakes his head furiously, his little body tense as he pulls your arms tighter around himself. “no! mummy’s mine!” he says, his tone determined, though there’s an adorably stubborn edge to it.
you laugh, trying to calm the storm that’s brewing between your two favorite people. “boys,” you sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips, “can we all just get along?”
lando leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, fully aware that theo is watching. “well, i think i’m still winning,” he says, looking at you with a teasing grin.
theo, who had been trying to maintain his stance as the “only one worthy of mummy’s attention,” glares at his dad, then glances at you. “mummy, tell daddy he can’t sit here. i need you.”
you raise an eyebrow at theo’s bold declaration. “theo,” you start, chuckling, “i’m not telling daddy he can’t sit here. i love both of you. and you both need to share mummy’s attention.”
lando stretches out next to you with a dramatic groan, “but it’s so much more fun when i get all of it.” he nudges theo with his foot, a playful gleam in his eye.
theo crosses his arms, sticking his tongue out at his dad. “mummy’s my best friend,” he says defiantly.
“oh really?” lando smirks, raising an eyebrow. “well, i’m pretty sure i’m her best friend too.”
the battle rages on. and despite the chaos, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. because in the end, you have the best of both worlds—two amazing boys who will never stop fighting for your attention, and your heart full of love for them both.
Summary : To the world, Y/N had always been Lando Norris’ closest friend—before the fame, the podiums, and the roar of F1 engines. Their bond had always been well-known, shared through countless moments on and off camera. But as the months went on, something started to shift, and it wasn’t just between Y/N and Lando. It became apparent through streams, where their chemistry couldn’t be denied.
Words: 4.7k
Warnings: some swearing
Max's Cooking Stream
“Done! I think they came out quite well,” Max announces, lifting the pan toward the camera, showing off the results of two hours in the kitchen.
The chat is already flooded with reactions—compliments, jokes, and the occasional disbelief at Max’s culinary skills.
"I'll be the judge of that" Lando states as he steps into view "Like master chef" he continues
Pietra is chatting with someone just out of view, her voice light and engaged. The mic, which has been filtering most background noise throughout the stream, only picks up bits and pieces of conversation—muffled words, distant laughter. But this moment? This one, it catches perfectly.
Lando steps away from where Max’s mic is propped, moving slightly out of frame. He reaches for a fork, his attention focused on someone unseen. And then, clear as day, his voice carries through.
"Love, come here a sec. Try it with me."
The chat explodes. But all three were too busy to realize what had just happened
"LOVE?? did he just say love??"
"Stop rn who is he talking to"
"someone find out rn pls"
"it might be y/n, she was seen with them around monaco yesterday"
"yeaa he calls her love sometimes i think its just a normal endearment for them lol"
All three, oblivious to the brewing chaos, all continue with what they were doing. Because whether it was intentional or not, Lando just dropped something big.
"Y/N’s here too, everyone! The whole gang’s here—Y/N, say hello to the chat," Max finally acknowledges, glancing at the flood of messages. It’s clear he’s doing some damage control, but the chat is already too far gone.
With a small wave and an amused little smile, Y/N finally steps into frame, grabbing a fork as she inches closer to the pan of food her friends have spent the past two hours making.
"Doesn’t look half bad, to be honest," she muses, inspecting the dish. "P’s really doing wonders, getting you this far into cooking."
Pietra laughs in the background while Max rolls his eyes, but before anyone can add to the banter, Y/N is already taking a bite.
"You’ve gotta—"
"Bloody hell—"
Lando’s warning comes a second too late. Y/N’s eyes widen as the heat hits, steam practically pouring out of her mouth as she waves a hand in front of her face, trying to cool down.
"You muppet, that’s literally fresh off the stove—c’mere," Lando chuckles, already unscrewing a bottle of water. He hands it to her, shaking his head as she takes it gratefully.
The chat? Utterly unhinged.
"NOT THE WAY HE JUST—"
"‘C’mere’ HE SAID ‘C’MERE’ I’M GONNA SCREAM."
"I AM LIVING FOR THIS CHAOS."
And just like that, what was supposed to be a casual cooking stream has become a full-blown internet event.
Everyone teases Lando about how he’s practically become a Twitch relic, only gracing the platform with his presence once a year. A far cry from the frequent streams he used to do. Some argue that it makes his rare appearances even more iconic, like a seasonal event the internet gathers for.
On one of his rare Twitch streams, Lando found himself diving into Backrooms with Max and a few other friends. As expected, chaos ensued—shouting, panicked laughter, and the occasional unintelligible screaming into the mic. But one moment, in particular, sent the fans into an absolute frenzy.
The doorbell rings, making both Ed and Lando pause mid-game and glance at each other.
"Food’s here," Lando announces into the mic.
Ed, already taking off his headset, ready to stand up. But just as Ed moves, they both hear the faint sound of the door unlocking.
"Oh, I think Y/N’s grabbing it, mate," Ed says, blinking in surprise. He relaxes back into his seat for a second before standing up anyway. "I’ll go help her."
"SHES STILL IN MONACO"
"i thought she went back to London with Max and P"
"omg she's staying with lando"
"loool stop reading into it guys ed's also staying with lando. theyre just friends"
"my delusions are being fed"
Both Y/N and Ed return, arms full with bags of food and cutlery. Ed drops back into his chair, already digging into his meal, while Y/N pauses beside Lando, holding a box of food in her hands.
"Do you want yours transferred to a plate, or is the box good?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.
"Like that is fine, thank you—oh, I’m streaming, by the way. They can see and hear you," Lando adds with a grin as he takes the box from her.
Y/N barely reacts, too used to this by now. Instead, she casually leans in slightly, scanning the chat as she asks, "Is Max here? Can you tell him to let P know I’ve been trying to call her?"
Lando doesn’t even look away from his screen. "He can hear you—he says sure. You wanna sit here and eat with us?"
She shakes her head, stepping back. "I’m good, got my own thing going on. I’ll see if I can join you guys later if you’re still on. Do you want water or anything?"
Lando glances up at her, smiling. "I’m good, I can grab some myself later."
"You know he’s lying, right?" Ed chimes in, chewing his food. "He’s just gonna wait until you leave so he can ask me to grab it for him."
"Shut up," Lando laughs, shaking his head.
Y/N only smirks knowingly before rolling her eyes. "Alright, whatever you say."
"Okay, okay, go back to doing your thing," Lando says, refocusing on his screen. "Connor’s complaining we’re taking too long."
The chat, meanwhile, is already in shambles.
"She’s literally taking care of him at this point."
"Ed exposing Lando is my new favorite thing."
"The domestic energy here is sending me."
"What is she up to now? Too busy to play with us?" Max teases as they dive back into the game.
"Nah, mate, she's busy building Legos in the other room," Lando replies casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Max snorts. "Another new hobby? You know she gave us a shit ton of air-dry clay stuff she made that one time. My apartment is literally full of it."
"No, Max, I stepped into the apartment today, and I genuinely thought I was in a Lego store. It’s insane," Ed laughs, shaking his head.
Lando chuckles. "Some of them are mine too, alright? They're not all hers. She’s been building some sets I’ve had lying around for ages."
The chat, of course, goes wild.
"Their apartment is a Lego store. I am crying."
"WAIT SO THEY HAVE BEEN LIVING TOGETHER RIGHT??"
"Domestic life with Y/N and Lando sounds like a fever dream."
Max just laughs. "Well, tell her to finish up and come scream with us in the Backrooms when she’s done playing with her bricks."
The stream opens with Lando and Max sitting side by side, each focused on their own PC as they prep for a game of Tarkov. There’s an easy banter in the air, Max teasing Lando about his gear while the two get things set up. But it’s the subtle detail in the background that catches the chat's attention—Lando’s racing rig.
It’s glowing softly in the background, the LED lights creating an almost otherworldly vibe against the dim room.
Max finally glances at the chat, giving a quick nod to thank some of his new subs. But his eyes stop when he spots a few of the comments scrolling by.
Max smirks, leaning into the mic with a grin. "The rig? Oh—it's Y/N. She’s playing F1 right now."
With that, Max casually moves his chair out of the way, revealing Y/N sitting just behind him. She's fully immersed, headset on, brows furrowed in concentration as she steers through a corner on screen, oblivious to the fact that she’s now in full view of the chat.
A small smile tugs at the corner of Lando’s lips as he turns back to look at Y/N, still fully engrossed in the game, unaware that both he and Max are watching her with amusement.
"She's prepping for the season too," Lando continues, keeping his voice casual, though there’s a playful edge to it. "Chat, I think she’s planning on taking my seat—she’s been on there for hours now."
Lando laughs, but the chat immediately picks up on the vibe.
"HE'S JEALOUS, LOOK AT HIM."
"Lando knows he's been replaced."
"Imagine Y/N taking his F1 seat. I’d pay to watch that."
Max, who’s been watching the scene unfold, looks back at Lando with a raised brow. "She’s putting in more practice than you are, mate. Maybe she is taking your seat."
Lando chuckles, shaking his head, though his smile lingers. "Nah, nah, she’s still got a lot to learn... but she’s getting there. I’m just here for moral support."
The chat, of course, has already spirals into chaos.
"Moral support? He’s just trying to hold on to his seat!"
"I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE RACE BETWEEN THEM. WHO’S GONNA WIN??"
"Lando’s literally her biggest fan and her biggest competitor at the same time. I love it."
Y/N, still completely absorbed in the game, lets out a frustrated grunt as she crashes into the wall during a tight turn. "I've fucking crashed—how is AI Lando also a little shit?"
The pair immediately burst into laughter, unable to hold it in. The moment is too perfect—Y/N, so focused on her race, completely unaware she’s been on stream the whole time.
Max wipes away tears, trying to calm down. "What?" Y/N finally takes off her headset after pausing her game, looking around in confusion, only to notice the commotion between the two.
"We’re on Twitch," Max manages between laughs, still struggling to breathe. "They heard you calling Lando a little shit."
Max, still grinning, leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying the moment. "I mean, I honestly don’t know if you should be more offended by the fact that she just called you a little shit... or the fact that she’s not racing as you."
Lando looks over at Max, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, who are you racing as right now?" His curiosity gets the best of him, and he stands up, walking behind Y/N to peer over her shoulder at her screen.
Y/N barely notices him, still intensely focused on her race. "You’re racing as Max?!" Lando exclaims, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "I feel so betrayed!"
Y/N doesn’t respond, grabbing her water bottle beside her, taking a sip.
But Lando’s eyes widen as he looks at her screen again. "Wait, you're were P3?!" he says, his voice rising in shock. "What the fuck, Y/N—this is on 110 difficulty—did you change it?"
"Yeah, well I was but you crashed into me you knob"
Lando's completely taken aback, mouth agape, staring at her settings in awe. Without thinking, he takes over the controls, fully inspecting her game setup. "This is... this is insane. You’re actually doing really well."
Y/N, now realizing the level of chaos happening around her, turns to look at him with a grin. "What? Like its hard?"
Max, who’s been watching this unfold, laughs. "I told you she’d be better than you at this rate. I’m not surprised."
The chat, of course, is losing it.
"SHE'S RACING AS MAX AND BEATING LANDO. WHAT A MOOD."
"Y/N: 1, Lando: 0."
"Lando looks like he’s seen a ghost. How did she do that?"
Y/N just laughs, clearly loving the moment. "I told you, Lando, I’m coming for your seat."
"Alright, we've got to put a screen time limit on you from now on, love—fucking hell," Lando says, still shaking his head in disbelief, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He ruffles her hair affectionately before heading back to his seat.
The chat explodes with excitement.
"Lando’s whipped for her. I can’t breathe.""The way he ruffled her hair? That’s the couple energy we’re here for.""Y/N just casually destroying him, and Lando’s still soft with her. I’m obsessed.""I can’t believe they’re just out here living their best life on stream. I’m living for this dynamic."
The trio can be seen in Lando’s usual gaming spot, the atmosphere relaxed but buzzing with excitement. In an effort to accommodate everyone, an extra table has been pulled into the room, holding the laptop they’ve set up for Y/N so she can join in on the fun. The new setup feels a little crowded, but it only adds to the chaotic energy that’s been building up since they all logged in.
"Y/N is right behind you!" Max shouts into the mic, pulling the same trick he did to Lando the last time they played Backrooms
"Max, shut up, oh my gosh—NO IT'S CHASING ME, WAIT—PAUSE IT, PAUSE IT!" The panic in Y/N’s voice is unmistakable, and it sends both Lando and Max into fits of laughter.
Max, already losing it, grins widely. "You’re telling me to pause, but I’m the one who’s not controlling it!"
Lando, equally amused, can’t help but tease, hiding comfortably from the monster "Didn’t know you were this scared of a game, love."
Y/N’s frantic clicking can be heard through the mic as she scrambles to escape whatever horror was chasing her in the game. "I can’t— I swear it’s going to catch me!"
A sigh of relief escapes Y/N’s mouth as she finally reaches the room, the monster stopping its chase just in time. “Right, so you two do all the work and I’ll run out when it’s time to escape.”
Max lets out another laugh, clearly amused. “That’s not how it works, Y/N. You've got to carry your weight”
“Come on then, let’s go. Just stay behind me and you’ll be fine.” Lando moves his character closer to hers, ready to lead the way.
Y/N, still a little nervous, responds with a grin. “I’ll keep my eyes closed.”
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Y/N—darling, it’s fine. It’s not that scary. It’s not gonna jump out at you. You just die and respawn, it’s all good.”
Max joins in, teasing, “Yeah, but if you keep closing your eyes, you’ll miss the whole thing. We’ll be done before you even open them.”
Y/N scoffs but can’t help but laugh, her character hesitating slightly. “I’m not opening them. I’m just here to run when the time comes.”
Lando smiles at her, his voice light. “Alright, well, try not to panic. We’ve got your back.”
The chat erupts in excitement, fans loving the playful back-and-forth between them.
"Y/N’s already planning her escape route. Classic."
"he calls her darling im sobbing "
"Lando’s trying to act all calm but he’s lowkey making sure she’s okay."
"Max is enjoying this way too much, lol."
Lando glances at Y/N with a grin. “Stay close, alright? We’re doing this together.”
Y/N was live on Instagram, chatting with fans while showing off her latest air-dry clay creations. She’d been getting non-stop requests to share her work ever since Max mentioned it in one of his streams, and now here she was, crafting away on camera.
Sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table, Y/N focused on the delicate jewelry plate she was shaping. She was giving her followers a detailed look at her process, her hands moving skillfully as she explained what she was doing.
"See, then you build the sides and stick it to the plate part you just made," she said, carefully adding a border to the plate. "So it kinda has a nice little border around it, and that way, you can put your jewelry in the middle without it all rolling off."
"Who you talking to?" A voice, unmistakably Lando's, makes Y/N's head snap up to look at him, her concentration momentarily broken.
Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of him standing in the doorway, and she quickly responds, trying to maintain the calm vibe of her live stream. "I'm on Instagram live— you didn’t see my text?" Y/N says, her voice soft but carrying a hint of a warning as she tries to focus on her work again.
Lando, walks into frame to stand beside her, only half his body on screen. “I saw it, but I didn’t think you’d actually be live. What’s going on in here?”
"I'm doing a jewelry plate tutorial, see?" Y/N smiles up at him, gently lifting the plate to show him the progress she’s made, the edges perfectly formed and the design coming together nicely.
Lando leans in a little closer, clearly impressed. "That's actually pretty sick. Have you shown them the other ones you've done?"
"Mhmm," Y/N nods, setting the plate back down on the table and continuing to work on it. "I did earlier. I have a few that are dried, so once I'm done with this one, I'm gonna show them how I paint it."
"Cool, cool," Lando says, grinning as he takes a step back. "I’m actually pretty curious about the painting part."
Y/N shoots him a glance, arching an eyebrow. "You want in on this too?"
Lando looks at her, then at the camera, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Can I join you?"
Y/N pauses for a moment, clearly trying to keep a straight face. "You gonna try your hand at some clay art, Norris?" she teases, but her tone is warm.
"Gotta try to beat you in something after you've somehow managed to get close to beating me on the racing sim" a smirk on his face as he plops down on the floor beside her "Right what am I meant to do?"
The two sat mostly in silence, both deeply immersed in their work. Y/N’s focus was on finishing her jewelry plate, the soft clink of clay against the table the only sound as she shaped it carefully. Lando, on the other hand, was determined to paint one of the already dried plate, though it was clear his attention was divided between the task and watching Y/N work.
"Oh, I’ve messed up, bub," Lando admitted, his voice a little defeated. "I’m sorry, this looks horrific. I think I’ve ruined it." He leaned back dramatically, letting his shoulders slump as he rested his back against the foot of the sofa, casting an apologetic look her way. "This is a disaster."
"What? No! It's cute—you even painted flowers on it, it's nice!" Y/N exclaimed, her tone playful as she tried to hype him up, a grin tugging at her lips.
Lando looked at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused. "Those are strawberries, you muppet," he said, laughing as he gently nudged her with his elbow, clearly not buying her attempt to boost his confidence.
Y/N burst out laughing, her hands up in surrender. "Oh, I'm only kidding! Of course they're strawberries," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
She quickly mouthed a playful I didn’t know to the camera as Lando became distracted with his painting again, a smirk creeping up on her face as she watched him carefully work on his next stroke.
"add bub to the list of names lando calls y/n"
"theyre actually so cute im going insane"
"not y/n gentle parenting lando"
"im telling my therapist about this"
--------------------------------------------------
I'm telling mom
Max’s loud voice cut through the quiet apartment, shattering the late-night calm. It was already past 10 PM, and he’d been streaming for over two hours, fully immersed in whatever chaos his Twitch chat had cooked up for him.
“Y/N! Get in here a sec!” Max’s voice carried from his gaming room, loud enough to startle Y/N from where she sat beside P, half-watching a Netflix show.
With a sigh, she got up, padding toward his room. She hesitated at the door, peeking inside carefully, mindful of the camera that might be angled her way.
“It’s almost 11 PM, Max. What the fuck are you yelling about?” she laughed, eyes landing on him. He stood in the middle of the room, VR headset strapped on, controllers gripped tightly like his life depended on it. "You look ridiculous by the way"
“Can you call Lando? He’s fucking with me,” Max huffed, shifting on his feet like he was bracing for something. “He told me to download this horror VR game, and now he’s in chat claiming he’s in bed. I swear to God—he set me up.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Y/N started, arms crossed. “You want me to call Lando—”
“Yep.”
“—to ask him to get out of bed and play a game with you—”
“Mhm.”
“—instead of letting him sleep, because it’s nearly midnight in Monaco?”
“Exactly.” Max stood firm, pointing a VR controller at her like this was a life-or-death situation.
Y/N blinked. “Oh, you’re serious—right.” She sighed, shaking her head as she leaned against the wall, already dialing.
“I swear, if he doesn’t hop on after I’ve set this up and put my contacts in—”
“Lan, you’re on speaker,” Y/N announced the second he picked up, barely giving him a chance to breathe.
Before Lando could even say hello, Max exploded. “You muppet! I’ve been standing here waiting for you for the past ten minutes!”
“Oh, piss off! I’ve been waiting for you for nearly an hour, Max! Can’t believe you actually made Y/N call me for this.”
“You weren’t picking up my calls!”
Y/N let out a slow, tired sigh and turned to the camera with a deadpan look, the exact kind of exhausted stare straight out of The Office.
“So you tell on me?! How mature,” Lando huffs
“Just hop on the game!” Max shot back, exasperated.
“This behaviour at 25 is diabolical,” Y/N muttered, dragging a hand down her face.
Through the speaker, you could hear Lando moving around. “Fine, fine! Okay, I’m on,” Lando said, voice muffled as he adjusted his setup. “Max, hurry up—I’ll send Y/N the code. Love, show him the code before you leave.”
Y/N sighed, holding up her phone as she walked over to Max. “Right. I’ve been dragged from my peaceful night just to moderate a sibling fight.”
Max squinted at the screen. “Got it. Thanks, Mom—right, I’m joining. You can leave now.” He was already fumbling with the game settings, barely paying her any attention.
Y/N rolled her eyes as Lando’s voice softened on the phone. “I’ll call you later, alright? Go watch your show with P. I’ll text you when we’re done.”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N hummed in response, finally making her escape.
As soon as she was gone, Max turned back to chat, shaking his head. “Right, let’s go. See? He’s such a knob—I have to call Y/N every time he’s being an ass because he actually listens to her.”
The chat was loving this interaction
"Y/N staying with Max and P is actually so wholesome"
"NOT Y/N BEING MOM"
"LANDO LISTENING TO Y/N ONLY IS PEAK BF BEHAVIOUR U CANT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE"
" "i'll call you later" is so cute he's down bad for her"
At this point, they’d practically exposed themselves. The subtle interactions hadn’t gone unnoticed—small moments that seemed insignificant alone but painted a clear picture together. The lingering looks, the casual slips of affectionate nicknames, the way their conversations always carried a certain ease.
Everyone had a general understanding that the two were a couple, but they’d come to accept that Lando and Y/N weren’t quite ready to make it official—at least, not publicly. But what really sealed the deal? Max’s most recent stream, just before the season kicked off.
“Right, chat, Lando and I are finishing up the download, and we’ll hop on as soon as it’s done,” Max said, scrolling through chat and tossing out quick thanks for subs and gifted memberships while they waited.
“Is anyone else joining us or nah?” Lando asked, finally looking up from his phone where he sat beside Max, his own setup in front of him.
“Nah, don’t think so. Connor just texted—he’s out,” Max replied, making Lando nod before going back to whatever he was scrolling through.
“Chat, I’ll be back—I’m gonna grab some water,” Max announced, tapping his mic to mute it before standing up.
Completely unaware, Lando reached over and tapped the mic again, turning it back on.
“Baby?! C’mere a sec!” Lando called out, sitting with his back to the camera, casually waiting for someone to walk in—completely oblivious to the absolute chaos erupting behind him.
“OH BOB, YOU’RE NOT MUTED!!”
“HES HOPELESS.”
“NOOOOOOO LN TURN AROUND!!!”
“HE FULLY EXPOSED HIMSELF IM CRYING.”
"baby??!"
A moment later, Y/N appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Hello my pretty girl, wanna come join Max and I?" “Aren’t you live with Max right now?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, yeah, I muted it—don’t worry,” Lando reassured her without a second thought. “Wanna join? Max is still downloading it, we can set yours up if you’re up for it.”
Y/N smiled. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go grab the laptop.” With that, she turned and left the room.
Max walked back in, settling into his chair. “What were you two chatting about?” he asked as he put his headset back on.
“Y/N’s gonna play with us,” Lando answered smoothly. “Oh—by the way, I muted your mic. Chat can’t hear you right now.”
Max blinked. “Well, yeah, I muted it before I left—” His head snapped toward Lando. “Did you fucking tap the mic again?”
Lando visibly paled. “…No, I muted it.”
Max hurriedly glanced at chat, eyes scanning the messages flooding in before exhaling sharply. “You fucking unmuted it, you idiot.”
Lando sat there, frozen. Then, with an almost comically slow realization, he sighed. “Damn… well. Secrets out.”
Y/N practically skipped into the room, excitement clear in the way she carried her laptop against her chest. But the moment she stopped behind the two, her smile faltered.
Max and Lando both looked at her with identical guilty expressions.
“…What?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Max didn’t hesitate. “Your dimwit of a boyfriend just exposed you two. He unmuted the mic.”
Y/N’s jaw dropped. “No...”
Lando was already reaching for her hand, pulling her close. “I’m so sorry, baby. I swore I muted it.”
Y/N groaned, running a hand down her face. “Oh my God. How bad?”
Max snorted, scrolling through chat. “Let’s see… ‘We’re witnessing a live trainwreck,’ 'my pretty girl', ‘Bruh did he just expose himself?’ ‘Send help, I can’t breathe,’ and—oh, this one’s gold—‘My parents are finally public.’
Lando groaned, burying his face in Y/N’s side. “This is your fault, Max.”
“My fault?! You tapped the damn mic!”
The two went back and forth, bickering like a couple of siblings, while Y/N just stood there, still trying to wrap her head around what was going on.
“Oh, Y/N, come on. Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s a big surprise. He hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either.”
“Yeah, but until now, it was all just rumors and whispers.”
Lando shot her a reassuring smile. “Aww, baby, it’s fine. They love you, you know.”
Max groaned, leaning back in his chair and teasing them both. “See? Now he’s gonna go full PDA mode, more than he already does. We’re all doomed.”
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “I swear, I can already see it.”
Lando reached over to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Max teased, rolling his eyes. “Just wait till he starts calling you ‘babe’ every two seconds on stream.”
Lando grinned mischievously. “You love it, Max. Admit it.”
Max shot him a playful glare. “I’m really starting to think I’ve been cursed.”
“Right, come on then, let’s play before I get called for an impromptu PR meeting,” Lando chuckled, giving Y/N a wink as he pulled his headset on.
Summary: Lando has a cold, but he's absolutely sure he's dying, and was that—his angel of death? No, it's just his really cute docter.
Warning(s): Mild Language, Lando being dramatic, cold symptoms, Max Fewtrell fighting for his sanity, meet-cute.
"Sometimes my mind goes fuzzy wuzzy when I see you"
The rain poured down as Max Fewtrell’s car sped through the streets of Monaco, windshield wipers working overtime.
Inside, Lando sat slumped in the passenger seat, wrapped in a blanket that was two sizes too small and had questionable mustard stains from an earlier snack.
His face was pale—well, paler than usual—and his hair stuck to his forehead like a tragic Victorian orphan on his last leg.
“I can see it now, Max,” Lando rasped, voice hoarse and weak as if he were auditioning for Les Misérables. “Here lies Lando Norris. Taken too soon. A man, a legend, a martyr to this cruel, cold world.”
He coughed dramatically into his elbow.
“The boy who conquered Formula 1 but was conquered by...the common cold.”
Max, gripping the steering wheel with knuckles whitening, shot him a deadpan look. “You don’t have the plague, Lando. It’s a sniffle. Maybe a fever, if I’m being generous.”
“It’s not just a sniffle.” Lando clutched the blanket tighter, his eyes wide with despair. “My temperature is higher than a faulty engine. My throat feels like sandpaper that’s been dipped in vinegar and set on fire. I can’t even taste chicken nuggets anymore. If that’s not dying, I don’t know what is!”
“You want me to write your will while we’re at it?” Max smirked. “Leave your sim to me. And your snacks, obviously.”
“Sure. You can have my crisps. But you don’t get my car. That goes to McLaren. They need something to remember me by after I’m gone.” Lando sniffled and let out a pitiful groan. “I just want to be remembered.”
Max rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head. “I will remember you. Every time I get a headache. Or stub my toe.”
They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Max parked with a smooth turn of the wheel. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s get you checked in so you can stop threatening me with your non-existent funeral.”
Lando half-shuffled, half-collapsed out of the car, gripping Max’s arm like he was marching to the gallows. They entered the hospital, Lando limping for extra effect.
They entered the emergency department, the fluorescent lights giving Lando’s already pale complexion an almost ghostly hue.
“Help me,” Lando croaked to the receptionist, clutching Max’s arm like he needed it for life support. “Before it’s too late.”
The receptionist didn’t even blink. “Take a seat, Mr. Norris. The nurse will call you shortly.”
Lando collapsed into the nearest chair with a dramatic sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. “Max, I swear, I can’t do this much longer. It’s too much.”
Max leaned against the wall, smirking. “You’re fine. You’re gonna survive. I’m just trying to get through this without dying of second-hand embarrassment.”
A nurse soon appeared, and she led Lando into the exam room, Max staying behind and scrolling through his phone, chuckling at the ridiculous memes that popped up.
_______________________
Inside the examination room, Lando sat on the table, looking like he was preparing for the worst. His eyes were still tired, his face flushed. But when the doctor walked in, he straightened up—if only a little bit.
“Mr. Norris,” the doctor said, her voice warm but professional. “My name is Dr. Y/n. What brings you in today?”
An angel. Angel of death.
Am I actually delirious?
Lando couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous, and she had the kind of confidence that immediately caught his attention. Her curls framed her face, her eyes sharp, intelligent. But more than anything, she seemed… real. Like she wasn’t fazed by his theatrics.
“I, uh—well,” Lando cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “I’m dying. As you can tell.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Dying, huh? And what makes you think that?”
“My fever’s through the roof,” Lando exaggerated, leaning back against the table. “My throat is destroyed.”
She smirked. “And have you taken anything for it? Maybe some medication, some fluids?”
“Not yet. I wanted to come here, get the full experience. You know, like a VIP treatment,” he said with a sly grin. “Maybe you could take extra special care of me?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I can make sure you don’t die today, Mr. Norris.”
Lando wasn’t backing down. “You can call me Lando. Just Lando. You know, if you want to.”
Docter Y/N just smiled. “Alright, Lando. I’ll check your vitals. Let’s see if we can rule out anything too serious.”
As she went about the examination, Lando stayed very much focused on her. He tried his best not to look too obvious, but he couldn’t help it—she was captivating. Even her clinical movements had a kind of grace to them.
“Are you always this dramatic?” she asked, after checking his temperature.
“I’m a rich F1 driver,” he deadpanned, making her chuckle despite herself. “Everything is about the flair, you know? Life would be boring without a little exaggeration.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you’re still breathing, so I think you’re good,” she said, continuing with the examination.
“I think that’s the first time anyone’s said that to me,” Lando replied, voice lowering a bit as he tried to be charming. “I mean, not the still breathing part, but the good part. You must be a miracle worker.”
She laughed again, making him grin. “Let’s just stick to the cold diagnosis for now, okay? No miracles required.”
Lando leaned back, resting his head against the wall. “I think I’m in love. You just made my day, Doctor Y/N.”
“Just keep drinking fluids, Lando, and rest,” she said, clearly trying to keep things professional, but the playful spark in her eyes made it clear she was enjoying this.
He sat up a little straighter. “So, you’re saying there’s a chance?”
“Sure,” she replied, deadpan. “A chance you’ll be out of here without anything too serious, at least.”
Lando smiled. “I’ll take it.”
Before she could leave, he gave her a look. “If you ever need someone to distract you from the horrors of your workday, I’m here.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but playing it cool. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Norris.”
Lando winked. “Just Lando, please. Trust me, I’m worth it.”
After she finished up the exam and handed him a prescription, she smiled at him one last time. “Feel better soon, Lando."
Lando chuckled. “I’ll try Docter"
My angel of death who decided to not take me away.
Okay, maybe I am delirious.
With that, she turned to leave the room. Lando’s heart fluttered in his chest as he watched her go, and he didn’t even care how cheesy it was. This was a woman who had somehow turned his near-death experience into the most interesting conversation he’d had in weeks.
_________________________
When Lando emerged twenty minutes later, he was no longer slouching under his blanket. He was striding, blanket trailing like a superhero’s cape. His eyes were wide, and there was a flush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with fever.
“What happened to the whole ‘I’m dying’ routine?” Max asked, standing up. “Did they prescribe you magic beans or something?”
Lando didn’t answer. He was too busy scanning the waiting room. Finally, he spotted her—his angel of death.
She stood at the far end of the room, chatting with the receptionist. Despite the sterile environment, she radiated warmth and confidence. Her smile was quick and genuine, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Lando’s heart did a triple axel.
“Max,” he whispered. “That’s her.”
“That’s who?” Max followed his gaze. “The doctor?”
“She’s an angel. My angel of death.”
Max groaned. “She’s not here to escort you to the afterlife, Lando. Don’t make this weird.”
“I need to talk to her.”
“You talked to her. During your appointment. Remember? Where she probably told you it’s just a cold?”
But Lando wasn’t listening. He straightened his blanket-cape and took a deep breath before striding across the waiting room with all the confidence of a man preparing to ask for a second date at his own funeral.
The doctor looked up as he approached, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Mr. Norris. You’re still here?”
“Yes. And I told you. You should call me Lando,” he said, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile. “I just wanted to, um, thank you for your excellent care. You’ve saved my life.”
The receptionist snorted. The doctor bit back a smile. “You have a cold, Lando. I wouldn’t exactly call that life-saving care.”
“It’s not just a cold. It’s a life-altering experience.” He clutched the blanket dramatically. “One that I’m only surviving because of you.”
Max had followed him over, looking like he wanted to disappear. “Sorry about him,” he muttered to the doctor. “He’s always like this.”
“It’s fine.” The doctor’s eyes sparkled. “I’m used to dramatic patients. Although most of them are under the age of ten.”
Lando gasped. “You wound me, Doctor Y/N...” He trailed off, realizing he didn’t know her last name.
Should've read the damn appointment memo
“L/N,” she supplied.
“Dr. Y/N L/N” he repeated reverently. “A name worthy of the heavens.”
Max groaned. “Fucking hell, he’s gone full Shakespeare. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not,” Lando shot back. “I need a wingman.”
“I am not your wingman. You’re sick. Let the woman live her life.”
But Dr. Y/N was clearly enjoying herself. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “You really don’t handle colds well, do you?”
“I’m more of a high-speed crash kind of guy,” Lando said. “Illness is too slow. Too sneaky. Give me 200 mph into a gravel trap any day.”
“And yet you came to the hospital for a sniffle.”
Lando grinned. “I thought I was dying. Turns out I just needed to meet you.”
Max gagged audibly. “Please stop.”
Dr. Y/N laughed. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, Lando. Remember, drink plenty of fluids, get some rest, and you’ll be back to racing in no time.”
“Will you be here next time I have a life-threatening paper cut?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she said teasingly. “If you’re lucky.”
Lando looked like he was about to say something else, but a nurse called Dr. Y/N over to another patient.
“I’ll see you around, Mr. Norris,” she said before walking away, leaving Lando staring after her with a dreamy expression.
Max sighed. “You’re insufferable.”
“I think I’m in love.”
“You’ve known her for twenty minutes.”
“Love at first diagnosis.” Lando sighed, draping the blanket over his head again. “I’m going to write her into my will.”
“Come on, Romeo. Let’s get you home before you propose marriage to her.”
As Max dragged him out of the hospital, Lando was already planning his next visit. After all, a man could only survive so many sniffles without seeing his angel of death.
_______________________________________
Thank you for reading!
If you liked this story please leave a like, a comment and, a reblog!
This also came to me from a weird version of a sleep dream, I had to write some things down. It appears that my brain wishes for me to be in love with a dramatic man. Atleast, subconsciously. Anyway, I hope all of you are doing well.
synopsis in which meeting a single dad and his son turns your whole life upside down.
author’s note this story has taken me so long to write and i’m so sorry for that!! as always, thank you to @clovermoters for the constant help, support and encouragement. i love you all, hope you enjoy <3
♯
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟearly spring, march 13th
the green canopy of the trees held back most of the sunlight and the last drops of warmth you’d soak up before fully submerging yourselves in the forest.
your little one, a three year old girl named stevie, was happily running along the track, her youthful laughter echoing through the silent forest. it just became warm enough to finally go on walks again and visit her favourite place.
though, the girl had many favourite places. if you’d ask stevie, she’d name at least four before finally deciding on the playground.
“mum, look!” stevie beamed, her tiny finger pointing towards the end of her path and the playground that came into view the farther she ran.
you smiled at her, not needing to walk too fast to keep up with her pace. “i see, sweetheart. you wanna swing?”
“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head, stopping in her steps to look up at you. “sandbox.”
“ah, how could i forget,” you nodded in approval and your little girl took off running again. “don’t eat the sand, angel.” you warn as soon as you two make it to the sand pit. there’s already some toys there but pull out the pink sand toy set from your bag and hand it to stevie.
as the little girl plays, you watch and wonder how you got so lucky with stevie, as she was already so independent for her age. she was smart, resilient, empathetic and everything you wouldn’t expect a three year old to be.
you wanted her to remember her childhood as best as possible, so you made a scrapbook— called it ‘stevie’s adventures’— and marked down bits and pieces of her life. so far, you’ve added the hospital bracelet you wore during labour and some of her infant stuff, like socks, a few onesies and even a few binkies.
you decide to snap a picture of her in the sandbox, now playing with a blond, curly-haired boy who couldn’t have been much older than her. taking a picture of a stranger's child would go against everything you’ve been doing to protect stevie’s personal life from online creeps, so you look around to try and find whoever’s responsible for the kid.
the only other adult person on this playground is standing a few steps away from your bench, navy sweatered arms crossed across his chest, white cap adorning his curly haired head. he looks intimidating and cold, like he’d shatter you with just a glance.
eventually, you muster up the courage to speak to him. “uhm, excuse me?”
the man turns to you like he was expecting you to speak to him, moustached lips turning into a welcoming smile. “what’s up?”
“is that your child in the sandbox?” you point to the boy, although you could already tell they were related— the subtle curls sticking out from under his cap matched the boys’ ones perfectly. the man nods, a little confused. “okay so this is really random, but i like to take pictures of moments in my daughter’s life and i was wondering if you’re okay with your son being in it?”
the stranger seems to let out a sigh of relief, a little less anxious about your line of questioning. “yeah, that’s fine.”
you give him a slight nod accompanied by a small smile. he watches as you pull out your camera, bring it up to your eye and get your perfect shot before putting it back into your bag. when your eyes flicker back towards him, he hesitantly extends a hand. “i’m lando.”
you blink at him twice before getting up and shaking his hand. “nice to meet you, lando. i’m y/n.”
he lingers for a moment, just watching you when you turn your attention back to the kids in the sandbox. the little boy is sharing his dinosaur bucket with stevie and she’s shovelling sand into it, babbling on about something you can’t hear.
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟmarch 27th
“stevie!”
your head whips towards the source of the sound, coming from a young boy. it takes you a few seconds before you notice his dad and both of you smile at each other.
stevie runs up to the boy and gives him a tight squeeze. “theo!”
over the past two weeks, you had come to the park a few times and met lando, and his son theo, there each time. not on purpose, it’s just that your park schedules just seemed to match up.
stevie became very fond of theo over such a short time and it warms your heart to see her beaming face as they play tag around the swing set.
“is your kid a picky eater?” lando suddenly asks, trying to break the unnecessarily awkward silence. “theo doesn’t eat carrots, all of a sudden. used to be his favourite snack until literally this morning.”
you try to hide your laughter when lando pinches the bridge of his nose, jokingly frustrated with his son. “stevie doesn’t eat the crust on bread or broccoli stems.”
“theo would agree with her about the importance of crustless bread in their diet,” lando hums, nodding at your answer. “sometimes i wonder if he’s even my kid, ‘cause his taste in food is so different.”
“he’s the spitting image of you, lando, i figured he was yours before we even spoke.” you roll your eyes, playfully. “and i don’t think taste in anything is genetic. at least i hope not. god forbid stevie goes through the awkward teenage phase of wearing strictly skinny jeans and band tees.”
lando chuckles. “yeah, i couldn’t see teenage theo rocking straight and damaged hair.”
“did you straighten it?” you tilt your head to the side, curious as to why anyone would want to get rid of their curls.
“used to,” he nods. “met theo’s mum and she taught me the proper techniques and products to use to get my hair healthy and curly again.”
ah, theo’s mum. you had wondered if lando had a partner. not for any particular reason, it was just because you only ever saw him at the park with theo and never the boys mum.
“mum!” stevie runs up to you, out of breath. “thirsty.”
your daughter wasn’t a fan of using many words in her sentences and, at first, you had begun to worry about it, but after many doctors visits, they confirmed that it was just a quirk she had adopted.
you open your bag and take out her water bottle. stevie basically rips it out of your hands, urgent to get as many gulps down as she can before she continues to play tag with theo.
the boy was stood by his dad, hugging him around the waist as lando pushed theo’s curls out of his face. “you tired yet?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“nuh uh,” theo shakes his head, instantly. “i like playing with stevie.”
“i know you do, bud, but we have to make dinner. you said you’d help me make that cheesy pasta you like.” lando raises his brows a few times, trying to pique his son's interest.
theo sighs. “i know. could stevie come over someday, then?”
lando’s eyes flicker up to yours, “could she? i host the best tea parties in town.”
you turn your head back to stevie when an excited gasp leaves her lips. “tea party?” she practically squeals as she repeats what lando said. “mum, can we go? please, please, please!”
the expectant look on stevie, theo, and even lando’s, faces makes you laugh. “i don’t see why not.”
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟapril 4th
“and would the princess like some biscuits with her tea?” lando asked, clad in grey sweatpants, white shirt… and a superman cape. apparently this tea party turned into a costume party, and you didn’t get the memo.
your daughter giggled before tipping her head and lifting up the sides of her cinderella dress. “yes, please.”
theo sat between them, happily smiling at the exchange between lando and stevie. “i want some too, dad!”
“biscuits for batman and cinderella coming right up!” he smiles at them before looking at you and nodding his head as an urge for you to get up. you follow him into the kitchen.
“had no idea you were superman, i feel like i should bow down to my hero or something,” you smile over the rim of your cup.
“nah, it’s a sidegig.” lando shrugs, nonchalantly, as he pulls out a few different types of biscuits from a cupboard. “is stevie allergic to anything?”
“nope,” you shake your head. “but she likes to say she’s allergic to cucumber peel.”
“ah, the famous excuse for not eating food they don’t like. been there. theo was trying to convince me that he was allergic to tomatoes until i told him what ketchup was made from.” lando laughed.
you smile at how fondly he speaks of theo. “where’s theo’s mum?” you suddenly blurt, eyes wide as you cover your mouth. “sorry, that’s such a personal question, i didn’t mean to.”
“well, you were clearly curious about it.” lando looks at you. “and that’s okay. but i’d rather talk about something else.”
“yes, sorry.” you nod. “what do you do for work?”
“i work at a karting place. i own it, actually.” lando spreads the biscuits out nicely onto a platter, adding a few cut up fruits from the fridge to make somewhat of a charcuterie board.
“oh, so that’s why you can afford karting for theo,” you hum, before taking a sip of your coffee, remembering one of the first conversations you had about your children’s hobbies. stevie likes to draw and play pretend, meanwhile theo finds joy in racing.
“that and his godfather being an F1 driver,” lando smiles fondly, eyes darting up to yours for a brief second before he goes back to assembling the snack board. “i used to race, too, before theo.”
“do you miss it?” you watch him closely, noticing the slight wince in his face.
eventually, he shrugs. “sometimes. other times, i realise how little energy fatherhood takes out of me compared to sitting in a small, hot space for hours at a time.”
“mm,” you hum again, nodding. you can’t really imagine anything harder than motherhood. “but that’s cars versus raising and nourishing a whole other human and personality.”
“yeah, true.” he agrees. “i guess i just got lucky with theo.”
“or he got lucky with you.” you and lando share a glance that lasts a little too long and seems a little too fond for just acquainted parents. you clear your throat and look away, instead choosing to watch whatever’s left in your mostly empty cup.
࿐ ࿔*:･ may 23rd
after a few more weeks of playdates at each other’s houses, theo saw it fit to include stevie in one of his favourite things in the world— karting.
the young boy pestered his father endlessly, using his puppy eyes technique to get what he wanted. “please?” he asked, dragging out the last syllable of the word to be a little more annoying and convincing.
“i’m sorry, bud. i don’t think she’ll like karting.” lando watched his sons face turn from hopeful to frustrated. the little boy crossed his arms over his chest, turning himself away from lando and facing the nearest wall to their couch.
“i won’t go if she’s not there.”
the simple yet strongly made statement forced lando to hold back a snort. “fine, i’ll call and see if she’d like to come. but i’m not promising anything.”
when friday afternoon rolled around, lando was delighted— and relieved— to see you and stevie making your way over to where he and theo were waiting.
“dad, it’s stevie!” theo’s face lit up as stevie ran over to them. “hi!”
“hi, theo!” stevie smiled and hugged him. she waved at lando. “hey, dude!”
“stevie, what did i tell you about calling people dude?” you say and playfully roll your eyes before looking at lando. “she randomly picked it up from who knows where and now everyone is dude.”
lando chuckles. “that’s funny, dude.” he looks down at stevie with an excited grin. “you ready to race?”
“heck yeah, dude.” stevie giggles and balls her hand into a fist, bumping it with lando’s. her hazel eyes look intensely at his open palm when he offers her a hand, confused as for whether or not he’s safe to walk with.
stevie’s seen and spent time with lando multiple times now, but everytime she did, you were there. in this moment, she was stood alone next to theo and lando, and even though you were only a few steps behind her, she felt like she was all by herself.
she turns her blonde head of hair towards you, eyes glancing up to look at yours. she was looking for any sign of disapproval or worry, but instead she saw you nodding your head encouragingly. “you need to get your helmet on, baby. lando will help you and then you can meet me back here, okay?”
stevie bites her lip with a glint of worry in her eye, but swiftly turns around and places her tiny palm in lando’s. lando gives you a small smile and the three of them make their way into the building.
stevie’s worries seem to lessen the more lando jokes around with her. first, he puts his balaclava on backwards, making both the kids laugh at how goofy he looked while flailing his arms around in the air. secondly, he tries to put on a helmet too small, which again results in a fit of giggles from theo and stevie. eventually, when he finds the perfect size helmet for stevie, he gets theo’s one— obviously designed with his favourite animated characters and colours— and leads the kids outside.
you watch as stevie runs to you, looking like a bobble-head because of how huge the helmet seemed. “woah, look at you.” you gasp as you squat down to be her height. “you scared?”
“nuh uh,” stevie shakes her head. “lando said i’m a rockstar and i’ll do great.”
your heart swells a bit. just as you’re about to speak, theo runs up to you both. “sorry, but my dad asked to bring stevie over to get her ready. he said you can go make coffee inside, though!”
“thank you, theo,” you smile softly and get up, watching as the two kids run towards lando with their hands held.
while you navigate through the building and try to find a place where you can secretly watch stevie and theo racing, lando explains how everything works to stevie.
“okay, so,” he places a hand atop her left foot, “you’ll have to push this foot forward to move, and this one,” he places the same hand on her other foot, “to slow down and stop. okay?”
“just like a car?” stevie tilts her head to the side, her interest piqued despite her never even seeing how a kart drives.
lando smiles and nods. “just like a car. if you get scared, you can slow down and stop, and i’ll run over to help you. you can go as slow as you’d like but don’t go too fast, you could hurt yourself or get dizzy.”
“okay, dude,” stevie nods, trying her best to retain as much of the information as she could. her eyes follow lando as he walks over towards theo’s kart, the two talking about something that made theo laugh.
you watch from inside the building, worried eyes following lando’s every move. when he starts up stevie’s kart, you can briefly feel your heart stop beating. you’ve never been so scared for her, and even though lando assured you there’s no way she could hurt herself, you’re not sure if you could forgive yourself in the case of an accident.
lando finds you holding a hand over your chest as you watched the two kids drive around the track. “hey,” he said, calmly, trying his best not to startle you.
you gave him a weak smile. “hi. was she nervous?”
“a little, but that’s normal.” he walked up and stood next to you, before placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “i explained to her how it works. she’s a smart kid and a fast learner.”
“yeah,” you nodded. “what if something goes wrong?”
“it won’t.” his voice was calm as you leaned into his touch, his arm sneaking down your back and around your waist to pull you into a side-hug. “i asked theo to let her pass him a few times so she gets the full experience of karting. maybe you’ll have a little racer on your hands.”
your head subconsciously lays on his shoulder as your crossed arms stay firm against your chest. “yeah, don’t think i’d be able to afford it, but i guess her and theo would get to have more playdates.”
“i’d help you,” he hummed, his own head resting atop of yours. “i mean, the competitions would probably cost a bit but i’d provide her with a kart and helmet. max would also love to pitch in.”
“don’t be silly,” you laughed a little. “she already does ballet in the mornings.”
“who said she can’t be a ballerina and a racer at the same time? she’d be the coolest kid on the planet if so,” he softly smiles, eyes looking down at your focused face. “besides, i’d get to spend a little more time with her mum.”
“mhm,” you bit back a wider smile. “who says you can’t do that regardless?”
lando’s heart skips a beat when you turn your head to look at him, only then realising how close you two actually were— his nose brushed yours when you raised your head and his breath fanned your face. he felt his stomach drop and he froze before finally giving in.
just as you felt his lips inch closer to yours, an employee of his knocked on the doorframe to the room. “one of the kiddos stopped in the middle of the track and she’s asking for lando.”
the curly-haired man jolts away from you, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been and turns around to awkwardly say, “uh, okay, i’ll go and, uhm, check.”
you can’t help but shake your head with a small laugh as you watched the man leave the room at record speed.
meanwhile, lando was trying to keep his composure in front of the kids. he’s sure they’d blab to you if they noticed him smiling like an idiot. “everything okay, kiddo?” he kneeled in front of stevie’s kart.
stevie tries to pull the helmet off, but the buckle keeps it tightly situated on her small head. lando helps her unbuckle it and pulls the helmet off, watching as she takes off the bright pink balaclava— her choice— and sighs. “i’m hungry.”
lando snorts at how random her request seemed. “alright, let’s go get theo and ask your mum if she’d like to join us for dinner, yeah?”
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
“no, stevie, we don’t throw the food.”
the little girl halted her movements, her hand in the air as her eyes focused on yours. she had a fist full of vegetables, ones that she clearly wasn’t enjoying, and was getting ready to throw on the floor and an evil glint in her eye. instead of doing as she first intended, she opened her fingers and the vegetables fell all over the table, a few of them landing in lando’s lap.
“sorry, sometimes she just-” you were already making up excuses for your daughter’s childish behaviour when lando cut you off.
“it’s okay, she’s probably overstimulated from an eventful day. it happens.” he shrugs as he picks the peas off from his lap. “y’know, theo threw up on me once after karting, which is why he refuses to eat before he goes on track anymore.”
you stifle a laugh before sitting back up from collecting the vegetables that fell to the floor. stevie was in active conversation with theo and seemed to have forgotten about the vegetables. a few minutes pass before lando speaks again.
“thank you,” he notices the confusion in the tilt of your head. “for coming. it means a lot to theo and, well, to me.”
the sincerity in his voice made all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks, tinting them the gentlest shade of maroon that lando didn’t miss. “no worries, we’re happy to join you anytime.”
lando ignores the feelings brewing in his chest and continues eating. you follow his lead and all four of you were done eating in another half hour.
the waiter came to your table and before you could even ask to split the bill, lando was handing hera a few paper bills and she had scurried off to get his change.
“weren’t we going to split?” you ask, a little confused.
lando shrugged. “it’s on me, don’t worry about it.”
you had already felt bad that he didn’t accept your money for the karting that day, or the ice cream he had bought for stevie a week or so ago, but dinner? you felt the guilt bubble in your stomach growing. “lando, it’s not fair on yo-“
“can you just accept that you don’t have to do everything by yourself?” he reasons. “i asked you to come to karting, i paid for it, same with dinner and that extra hour at the park so the kiddos could get ice cream from the ice cream truck. i did it because i want to and i don’t expect anything in return.”
when you look up at him, your expression clearly less upset than before, he decides to crack a joke. “except for maybe a kiss or two.”
you roll your eyes and the waiter brings back his change just as you’re about to make a witty comeback.
lando, being the gentleman that he is, offered to drive you both home and you couldn’t deny it after seeing how sleepy stevie had gotten. she fell asleep on the ride home and after lando pulled into the driveway of your small home, you got out to unbuckle her and carry her inside.
theo waited patiently in the car, listening to a podcast about dinosaurs in his earbuds while lando walked you to your door.
he smiled down at the sleeping stevie in your arms, bringing a hand up to gently caress her cheek with his finger. “we must’ve wore her out.”
“she hadn’t had a nap today,” you looked down at your daughter. “pretty sure she’ll sleep through the night.”
lando’s gaze had shifted to your face subconsciously and he didn’t realise how close you were getting when you looked back up at him. you pulled him in with a soft hold of his jaw, your lips gently pressing against his.
lando’s hand came up to hold your cheek. the kiss lasted way longer than you intended, but you weren’t complaining. when you finally pulled away, breathless and pink, lando was speechless and in awe. “thank you for today.”
you closed the door behind yourself, watching through the window of your living room as his car pulled out of your driveway. stevie covered her mouth with her small hand as she giggled. “ooo, mama kissed cool dude.”
a small gasp left your lips as you looked down at stevie. “you saw that?” she nodded her small head. “oh, god.”
࿐ ࿔*:･ may 28th
you were making dinner in the kitchen when stevie yelled for you from the living room.
“what is it?” you walk down the hall while wiping your hands on a dishrag. stevie points at the window, lando’s car coming into view when you step closer. “oh, what’s he doing here?”
stevie watches from the window as you make your way outside to greet a disheveled lando and a smiley theo.
“hey, everything okay?” you ask when the man finally looks up at you. “i didn’t know you were coming over, i would’ve doubled up on dinner.”
“i’m not staying for long,” he says, hastily. you could tell he was stressed out and rushing somewhere. “could you watch theo for tonight?”
“what?” you blink.
“it’s max, he, uhm,” lando turns to theo and tells him to run inside to see what stevie was up to. when the young boy is out of earshot, lando continues. “max isn’t eating or sleeping. he’s had a bad race and the media’s giving him shit for it. i’m going to visit him and check up on him, and i’d usually bring theo but i don’t want him to see max like that.”
“oh, god.” you place a hand on lando’s shoulder and he just pulls you into a tight hug. “i can’t imagine how stressed you are. you go take care of max, okay? theo will be okay with us.”
“thank you so much,” lando pulls away and pecks your lips. “i’ll be back tomorrow evening.”
and before you can even register that he just kissed you, he’s in his car and halfway down the neighbourhood.
when you make your way inside, the kiddos are on the floor in the living room, theo’s backpack open with half of the content spilled out.
“would you like to have dinner with us, theo?” you ask the boy and he shakes his head, explaining that lando had given him his dinner before hastily packing his sleepover bag. but when you offered a snack of crackers and cheese, the boy happily agreed.
you turned on an animated film for the kids to watch as you did your washing up for the night before bed. a small smile creeped up on your face as you heard the two little humans giggling about something that only existed in their own world.
as the evening progressed and the kids grew more tired, you laid them both to bed. stevie had a second bed in her room as her cousin often comes visit during the summer, which ended up being perfect for a kid theo’s height.
routinely, you were obligated to switch on the starry night light and read a story. theo requested a bedtime story about dinosaurs, meanwhile stevie wanted one about princesses, and you somehow managed to make both work.
once you heard the familiar tiny snores escape stevie’s lips, and when theo had turned to his side, you left the room and kept a small crevice of the door ajar.
the next morning, you had already begun to prepare pancakes while dulcet sounds of jazz music filled your kitchen, when theo gently tugged on your apron.
“you okay?” you kneeled down to his height and theo rubbed his tired eyes awake before pulling you into a hug. “oh.”
“dad always gives me morning cuddles,” he explained, a certain sadness in his voice that broke your heart to hear.
you picked the boy up in your arms and gently caressed his back. “you miss him, huh?”
theo just nodded, nestling his head onto your shoulder as his arms laid draped over your biceps. “i knew you were as nice as dad said.”
you can’t help but softly smile at his comment. “thank you, theo. he talks about me?”
you knew it was wrong to ask a kid such a question, but the words had already escaped your mouth before you could catch them.
“sometimes,” he hums, a yawn threatening to make its presence. “i think he likes you a lot.”
“yeah? how so?” you poke his side as a tease.
theo straightens up a bit, to see your face. “he gets shy when he talks about you to maxie and pietra. and he gets all red like you are right now.”
you shake your head and tickle his face with the hair that flings around you both. “am not.”
“are too,” he giggles.
you place him down on the ground and give him an encouraging tap on the back. “how about you go wake stevie up for pancakes?”
“can you cut it into a pterodactyl?”
“can i cut it into a pterodactyl?” theo giggles when you scoff, displaying faux offence. “of course i can.”
the little boy runs back down the hallway and towards stevie’s room. your heart bursts a little when he calls out for your daughter.
“stevie! your mum’s making dinosaur pancakes!”
࿐ ࿔*:･ june 10th
you expected your first date with lando to be somewhere fancy enough for you to wear a dress you bought while still pregnant with stevie.
fortunately for both of you, lando offered a night in and you were far too big of a romcom lover to deny his request.
“thank god you agreed to this,” lando slumps his shoulders when you pry open your front door. you take a second to admire his simple attire— a light blue zip up hoodie with matching sweatpants.
you move to the side and open the door a little more to let him in. “thank god to max and pietra for agreeing to watch both the kids.”
“oh, yeah, they’ve been begging me to bring both you and stevie over since the first time you four met.” he sets the bags of stuff down on the dining table. “i think pietra adores you a little.”
“i hope she knows the feelings are mutual, she’s so cool.” you smile softly.
“hey, she said the same about you!” lando laughs and when you come close enough, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a hug from behind while unbagging.
“i bought way too much ice cream but i didn’t know what flavour you liked best so i chose five that i hoped you liked.” he explains as he takes out the third box. “oh, and wine.”
you lean back into his chest and turn your head just barely to place a kiss on his jawline. “thank you.”
lando’s heartbeat speeds up in a brief second and he hopes you can’t see the blush on his face. he quickly recollects himself and, without letting you go, brings both of you to your kitchen. of course, both of you being so close against one another means that you nearly trip and fall with every step you take.
eventually, through many giggles and bumps into furniture, you two find yourselves in the living room, spoons and ice cream in hand.
lando takes a seat on the sofa, arm draped over the back of it as an invitation for you to join him. once you pluck the remote off the coffee table and fetch a blanket for the two of you, lando feels you nestle against him.
“what’re we watching?” he asks, eyes focused on you instead of the screen.
you shrug. “horror movie?”
“no,” he sternly says. “i hate them. rom-com, please.”
you stifle a laugh and focus back on the television. after skimming through the films, the two of you choose notting hill and cozy up to watch it.
about half an hour in, you notice lando’s heartbeat quicken underneath your cheek, but you decide to brush it off as nothing. eventually, he speaks up.
“so, i’ve been thinking,” lando begins, his voice soft and cautious. his eyes search your face, looking for any sign that might stop him from saying what’s on his mind. but all he sees is the face he’s grown to love and that only urges him to continue.
you slightly sit up, a little worried by what he’s going to say. “about what?”
“us, our kids, you.” he reaches over to grab your hand in his. as his thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, his eyes rest on yours. “i love the way things are between us lately, and i like being around you and stevie, but i want to be more than just movie nights and playdates.”
your heart skips a beat. “you mean… like, officially? you want to be together?”
he nods with that same smile you’ve grown so fond of. “yeah, i mean, i know it’s a long-shot and it’s risky with our kids’ friendship and all, but theo already loves you and i’m sure stevie adores me,” he jokes and you playfully roll your eyes. “but it would make me the happiest man alive if you were my girlfriend.”
“wow,” you’re speechless. “i didn’t think i’d actually hear you say that.”
“i’ve been overthinking it for days,” he laughs, anxiety riddled all across his face as he watches your expression. he can’t exactly read it and that makes him even more nervous. “not to pressure you or anything-“
“yes,” you cut him off, a wide grin on your face as he pulls you into a hug. “i’ve never been so giddy about someone before.”
“yeah?” he flashes you that same, wide grin before pulling you in for a kiss.
“oh gosh, we have to tell the kids,” you gasp with a hand gently pushing lando’s kissy face away. he furrows his brows, confused as for why he can’t kiss his girlfriend.
“theo knows,” lando shrugs. “i told him that i’d be asking you to be my girlfriend and at first asked if he’d be okay with that.”
“and what’d he say?” you lay your head in lando’s lap as he plays with your hair, a small smile on his face.
“he asked if that means you’ll be able to stay around more, and then said that you make the best pancakes.”
“oh, did he tell you about the dinosaur pancakes?”
lando nods. “he asked me to make them the next morning and told me to take him to your house, because i didn’t get them right.”
a laugh escapes your lips. “you could’ve come over, you know? i would’ve been happy to serve theo some more dino pancakes, and maybe taught you how to make them.”
“yeah?” he leans down to place a kiss on your lips, hoping that this time you don’t push him away. and it’s quite the opposite actually, because he feels your hand on the back of his head, tugging gently at the curls cascading down his neck as you pull him in deeper.
despite having kissed you a couple times before, this kiss makes lando that much more excited to spend as much time with you as you and stevie were willing to grant him.
and he’ll make sure it’s the most loved you two will ever feel.
࿐ ࿔*:･ december 14th
“theo, watch your step.”
the young boy was carrying a box bigger than himself with stevie following right behind him, a smaller box of her stuff in hand.
today was the day you were moving into your new home– a home you and stevie will be sharing with the two most important boys in your life– and you couldn’t be more excited.
to some, it seemed like it all came too soon— the relationship, the moving in together, caring for each other’s child whenever the other needed it, but neither you nor lando cared what others thought.
it was clear from the first few months of knowing you that lando would be head over heels in love with you. he didn’t care how quickly your lives entwined, instead he was excited to see what would grow from it.
you placed the last few boxes in the living room and stood in the doorframe to the dining room, watching as stevie and theo chased each other, their laughter echoing off of the walls.
lando’s hands creep around your waist as he pulls you in from behind. he places a gentle kiss against your hairline, “welcome home, love.”
you turn around to face him, arms instinctively hugging his neck as your eyes well with tears.
“welcome home to us.”
࿐ ࿔*:･ two years later, june 26th
the sun peeked from behind the clouds, rays of light bouncing off of your face as the pinks, blues and oranges merged into a beautiful sunset above the water.
it was one of the warmer days and lando decided to take you all out for a picnic on the beach. it wasn’t unusual for him to plan spontaneous activities, but still he was nervous you knew what he was up to.
the velvet box sat tucked away in the bag of stuff he packed, his heartbeat quickening every time you dove into it to find something you needed.
that’s where theo came in.
“y/n,” he called out just as your hand was reaching into the exact corner the box was located in. you turned your attention to the boy, sitting up straight.
while theo was blowing your mind with his dinosaur facts, lando hastily stuck his hand into the bag and retrieved the ring box, immediately putting it into his pocket. when theo glanced back over to his dad, lando gave him a reassuring wink and the boy took off to play by the water with stevie, again.
“oh, guess that’s all he wanted,” you shrugged before turning around to lando. “you didn’t pack any napkins?”
“oh,” lando panicked. fuck, through all his meticulous planning with max and pietra, he forgot to pack the most important thing. how was he supposed to propose with his hands all messy? “uhm, no, must’ve forgot, sorry.”
you leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “that’s alright, i’ll go splash around in the water with the kiddos and wash my hands then.”
lando watched as you pulled yourself up and made your way towards the water, his heart pounding against his sternum. he took one last glance at the box that could make or break the future with you he had already planned out in his head, and followed your lead.
once he was close enough, stevie ran up to him. “lando! the water is so warm, come feel it.”
he couldn’t say no to the little girls pleading eyes and followed her as she dragged him to the water. he took that as one last chance to calm himself down and get it over with.
lando was only nervous because it wasn’t just you he’s proposing to. stevie had become such an important part of his life that he’s afraid of ruining her perception of him if the proposal were to go wrong. and his mother already loved the girl, even after the handful of times they’ve met.
so, anxiety was understandable in his case.
he watched stevie’s wide grin as she looked out at the water, and then behind herself to where her mum and theo were chatting.
you had noticed lando’s behaviour change, ever since last night, but you figured it was something he’d bring up to you if he wanted to talk about it, so you haven’t paid much thought to it.
lando’s made his to you, stevie’s small hand in his, and his other one on the box. his chest felt like it was getting smaller and smaller with each step he took towards you. the only thing that calmed him down was your smile while looking at them both.
you watched as stevie let go and ran towards you, yet quickly swerved to find where theo was. your eyes followed her to see that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, and when you turned back around, you saw a nervous lando. “you okay?” you nervously laugh. “you’ve been weird all day today.”
“there’s so many things i could say to you right now, but i think it’s better to save them for our vows.”
“vow- what?” you furrow your brows. that’s when he sinks down to one knee and you feel your eyes well up with tears.
he took a breath, a small smile adorning his face, and then the words you had dreamed of hearing, ever since you were a little girl, left his mouth.
“will you marry me?”
࿐ ࿔*:･ wedding day
you watched the on-going bustle of guests from the window of your lonesome dressing room.
the echoing sound of your heart pounding against your sternum was loud in your head as you tried to steady your breathing. this was actually, really happening.
you felt your hands shake with how nervous you were, albeit having practiced your vows in the mirror for the past two months, and knowing that lando is truly the one you wish to spend the rest of your life with.
your feet drag you across the hardwood floor of the dressing room, fingers nervously fiddling with one of the more textured parts of your dress. you could feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the clock on the wall ticked by, each second granting you a moment more of anxiety and stress.
your head whips towards the door when a knock echoes through the empty room. “uhm, who is it?”
the door pries open to reveal a curly head of hair with a hand over his eyes. “me, may i come in?”
“what the hell, no?!” you exclaim, panicking. “it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the ceremony, we talked about this.”
despite your best efforts to verbally usher him out, lando makes his way inside and shuts the door behind him, his eyelashes resting atop his cheeks as the green of his irises stay hidden behind eyelids.
“i know, i know,” he sighs in defeat. “but i just had to come see you before the ceremony. well, not see you, exactly, but just, be in your presence, i guess.”
you drop your arms by your sides, sulking a little. “i’m so nervous, lan,” lando could hear your pout and it made him smile.
“i know, me too,” he makes his way over to where he thinks you are and reaches a hand out to find the cusp of your waist. he can feel the fabric of the dress as it sits atop your skin, a smirk forming on his lips. “feels pretty.”
“hey, no!” you swat his hand away. “i’ll run away from the wedding if you do that again.”
“oh, c’mon,” he defends, smiling underneath his palm. his eyes were still shut and his left hand covered them tightly, not a single space left between his fingers to ensure that he couldn’t get even a glance. “i don’t even get a feel?”
“not even a feel,” you cross your arms over your chest and realised he can’t see your sassiness like he usually would. “i just crossed my arms, by the way.”
“i know,” lando shrugs. “i also know you’ve been staring out the window and ogling at people like a psycho.”
you furrow your brows, “how’d you know that?”
“cause i know you.”
a shiver runs down your spine and you can’t help but blush at what lando says, even after close to three years of being together. “what did you really come here for?”
“a good luck kiss?” he asks, so soft and hopeful, that it makes you give in. lando feels your hands gently guiding his face down towards yours, before your lips softly rest against his. he, of course, tries to kiss you like usual– aggressive, long and sweet.
yet you pull away before he can even think of pulling you in by the chin. “the better kiss is for the ceremony, babe,”
he sighs and drops his shoulders, his head dropping as he displays faux disappointment. “fine, whatever. saying you hate me would hurt less.”
“yeah, because i hate you so much that both me and my daughter are taking your last name,” you roll your eyes.
“our daughter,” his voice is stern when he corrects you. lando hears a noise outside the door, suddenly alert and tense. “i think it’s almost time.”
you take one last peek out the window and notice everyone in their seats. “oh, god, yeah. go, you can’t be seen here.”
“alright, love you, see you out there” he turns around and reaches for the door. “pretend i winked at you when i said ‘see you out there’, cause i couldn’t actually wink an-“
“lando, go!” you step closer to him, your dress whispering beneath you as your hands gently urge him to leave.
“one more kiss?” he suddenly turns back around and you roll your eyes.
“you’re impossible,” you cup his face again.
“so i’ve been told,” he smirks against your lips. “and yet you’re marrying me, mrs. norris.”
“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you place another peck against his pursed lips before the door shuts in front of you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts, again.
you stand there for a moment, heart racing and palms sweating, yet still you were feeling more certain than ever that this was the best decision you ever could’ve made.
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
the ceremony has long passed and now you are in the middle of the dance floor, your hands held with theo.
the young boy expressed that he didn’t want to dance anymore, so you brought him to the table where his plate sits. on it, of course, are the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets you and lando specifically requested for theo to have.
your kids were now six and five, both very unique and yet somehow very similar.
theodore maxwell norris was a smart boy, interested in pretty much anything to do with dinosaurs, space or monster trucks. he requested to spend his sixth birthday at a museum, which stevie was absolutely thrilled with. the two young children had always known how to entertain each other, ever since they met.
stephanie jane norris, albeit a year younger than theo, was also quite smart for her age. she found interest in princesses, nature and most recently, karting. she accompanied theo to multiple of his races and took part in some practice laps, and found that it’s actually more fun than she remembered.
your eyes caught a glimpse of lando as he danced with stevie on the dance floor, the little girl actively shaking her head to a rock song and lando laughing at her with max. the girl then grabbed both of them by the hand and started dancing in a circle, in turn bringing a smile to your face.
“y/n?” theo poked your arm to catch your attention. you look down at him as he’s sat on the chair, eyes glaring up to yours. “do i have to call you mum now?”
you kneel down to be his height and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
the little boy just shrugs before taking another chicken nugget off of his plate, “okay, mum.”
you felt your heart swell and eyes well with tears at the fact that he so casually called you mum. you had imagined that it’d take at least a few more years of getting more comfortable with you for that to happen, but the boy saw no reason not to call you that. stevie called lando dad, anyway, so it only seemed fair in his eyes.
what theodore failed to realise was that, without even knowing it, he managed to make extra room in your heart and build a pillow fort there, in which he and stevie resided. you had convinced yourself that stevie would be your only true love in this world, that you didn’t need to meet anyone or have more kids.
it’s funny how a man and his son could waltz their way into your life, and turn it around for the better.
theo felt you place a gentle kiss to his head before you excused yourself to go dance with his dad. in the meanwhile, stevie had made her way behind theo and scared him.
“don’t do that, stevie,” theodore warns before picking up his apple juice box and taking a few gulps.
the girl shifts her weight from her heels to her toes. “sorry, theo. do you want to dance?”
“can i be a dancing t-rex?” he asked, an eyebrow rising with curiosity.
stevie giggled. “only if i can be your sister t-rex. let’s go!”
he watched as you ran back towards the dance floor, his face still evidently confused as he mumbled to himself, “i thought she already was my sister?”
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟinterview about max fewtrell’s wdc
“theo! daddy’s on tv!” stevie’s voice echoed through the living room and theo came rushing in with a bowl of popcorn, as if the interview was some sort of movie.
you were sandwiched between the two kids, the bowl strategically placed in your lap so they don’t have to strain too much to get their snack.
the television screen showed a clear shot of lando and max chatting, lando’s arm wrapped around his best friend’s shoulders as he congratulated him again.
the interviewer— theo had informed you that he was a retired formula one driver, nico rosberg— invited them in to chat and all three of you eagerly watched, waiting for them to start talking.
“lando! what a pleasant surprise to see you here,” his german, or maybe british, accent echoed in the living room. “haven’t seen you here since you left the sport.”
“yeah, y’know,” lando flashed his wide, toothy grin, “life had other plans.”
“yeah?” nico tilted his head to the side. “how’s your family? your son doing okay?”
lando pointed at the camera next to them. “they’re watching from our home back in england,” he turns his face towards the lens and waves at it. “hi guys.”
stevie and theo eagerly wave back. “hi dad!” they say, in unison, before breaking into a fit of giggles.
lando continued talking about personal matters, trying his best not to get too into it. he knew how the media was, and you had already had some encounters with less than pleasant fans.
finally, as nico was ready to wrap up the interview, he asked lando if there was anything he missed from his racing days.
“honestly? no.” he shrugged. “i think quitting opened up a plethora of new opportunities for me, including growing my own little family. my wife and i are blessed to have each other and raise our daughter and sons.”
“sons?” nico furrows his brows. he lowers the microphone away from their faces and leans in cautiously. “i thought you had only theo?”
theo looks up at you. “you’re pregnant?”
“i’m going to have another brother? awesome!” stevie jumped up on the couch, and your fingers found the bridge of your nose to pinch, in search of any comfort.
lando panicked. “i, uhm, max did great. he’s much stronger and tougher than he lets on, and maybe we should let the champion talk, yeah?” he blurted out all in one breath as he grabbed max by the shoulders and pulled him towards nico. max shook his head with confusion before turning towards the interviewer.
little did he know his best friend just announced your pregnancy to the entire world.
࿐ ࿔*:･ mother’s day
“mum!”
you heard their fragile little voices from behind your closed bedroom door and tried your best to sit up, your pregnant belly making it that much harder to function.
you’ve been on bedrest for the past week, and it’s been absolutely amazing getting to rest, but so boring. what does one do when forced to stay in bed all day?
stevie and theo knew the answer.
“could we make mother’s day cards for mum?” theo asked lando over breakfast, just as he was making your oatmeal with berries.
the curly-haired man shrugged. “sure, but you only have until tomorrow morning.”
“ooh! and can we get her heart balloons and flowers?” stevie muffled, as she finished up the last bites of her pancake.
“we don’t speak with our mouths full, love,” lando warns. “but yes, we can also get her balloons and flowers. you guys think she’ll like that?”
“and a kiss from dad,” stevie giggled before hopping off her chair and making her way to the dish washer. lando shook his head with a laugh.
in the very crack of morning, while all of you were sound asleep, lando had gone to the grocery store to buy all the necessities— red roses, self care items, some sweets and, of course, heart balloons, as per stevie’s instructions.
when the kiddos woke up and when lando had made sure you were awake as well, they made their way to the master bedroom.
their small hands knocked a rhythm onto the door before they heard your silent “come in!”
your face lit up with a smile when your three favourite people made their way into the bedroom. “happy mother’s day!” the three of them smiled at you and lando pouted when he saw your eyes well with tears.
you soundlessly said “hormones” before stretching your arms out to bring both of your little loves into a hug.
stevie presented you her card first. “it’s us! and we’re on an air balloon. and that’s baby.”
she pointed her little fingers at the five figures on the page— you were holding hands with lando and next to you stood your three children. the newborn baby was in a stroller, which you took as a sign that stevie hopes your son will be here soon.
next it was theo’s turn. he gave you the card without saying anything, instead offering you another hug when tears spilled down your cheeks as you read it. stars live in space and also in you! happy mother’s day. scribbled in the cutest six year old writing you’ve ever read.
lando later explained that theo had watched a video about there, supposedly, being stardust in everyone’s blood, which made you even more emotional.
“thank you, my loves,” you hugged them all once again before lando made his way over to give you a kiss and the flowers.
“thank you for being the best wife and mother to my kids that i could have asked for.”
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟwhere it all began.
baby noises and giggles fill your living room as you try to set up the camera to the best of your abilities.
“theo, honey, could you hold henry more towards the middle?” you ask as you press your eye to the viewfinder eyepiece to check what the photo would look like.
stevie sat on the left side of the sofa, an empty space left on the edge for you, as your newest addition— a six month old boy named henry parker norris— was snuggled between her and theo, with lando on the far right edge.
“babe, just set it to video and come sit,” lando said, a little annoyed by how long the whole process is taking. “henry’s getting fussy.”
“he’s okay, lan,” you roll your eyes. “and this is going in stevie’s scrapbook, so it needs to be perfect.”
it’s a few more minutes before you finally sit down and wait for ten seconds before you hear the click of your camera. after close inspection, you realise that stevie was making a weird face, lando was mid-blink, your hair looked a mess and theo was looking at henry.
a sigh of defeat escapes your lips right as your front door opens and in comes pietra. “oh my god, thank god you’re here.” you exclaim, as if you hadn’t invited her for coffee, and she looks at you with a confused smile. “can you help with family photos?”
she nodded and, without hesitation, followed you back to the living room. pietra stood behind the camera on the not-so-stable tripod and ordered you all around before snapping a few pictures. her logic was that if you take enough pictures in a set amount of time, at least a few of them are going to turn out good.
and, after inspecting the pictures closely once more and deciding that they’re better than just good, you give her a hug and slump into it. “thank you, i was beginning to lose hope of making her a good scrapbook spread for her birthday.”
pietra laughed. “she’s lucky to have such a hard-working mum, so i doubt she’d mind. but i’m happy to help!”
after giving him the green light, lando helped the kids change and took care of henry’s feeding and diaper before packing them all up for a walk. “we’ll go make dinner while you two take my little man on a walk, sound good?”
you nodded and gave him a soft peck, and pietra followed you out to the front yard. both of you watched as lando, stevie and theo walked towards the car, on their way to the grocery store, while little henry waited for you, snug in his stroller.
“i never imagined it,” pietra started. “lando being a dad to more than just theo, i mean. it suits him.”
“yeah?” you turn your head towards her, a small and proud smile on your face as your fingers softly wrapped around the handle of the stroller. “i never imagined finding anyone else as important as stevie was to me. like i didn’t know my heart could expand enough to fit more than just her in there, y’know.”
“yeah,” she nodded, following you as you made your way towards one of your favourite places in the world. “i mean, i guess that makes sense since you were each other’s biggest love for three years.”
“yeah, but now she’s a lot more loving to lando than me” a laugh leaves your lips. the chilly spring air caressed your cheeks as you pushed the beige coloured stroller. your little newborn lay peacefully in it, little eyes curiously wandering around.
he was barely six and a half months old, but already so attentive, responsive and curious, and looked just like stevie when she was this age. he was a peaceful baby so far— not much fussing during the day and he slept well at nights. on the few occasions that he didn’t, lando would be up in a flash to take care of your little henry’s needs.
it was endearing to watch him explore fatherhood with three kids now, as opposed to when it was just him and theo. you admired how sweet he was with stevie while explaining why he does what he does when changing diapers or fixing bottles, or how he intently listened to theo’s explanation on how to properly burp a baby.
“is this the place?” pietra nudged her chin at the playground that’s slowly coming more into view. it’s a little more worn now– the paint had chipped off the bars where theo used to pretend he was a monkey on, and the slide had little divots, yet it used to be smooth and barely worn out when stevie used to insist on taking it backwards, with her belly to the metal.
it brought back some nostalgia to when you first met lando. it was on the very same bench that pietra was sitting on right now. you watched the playground with a small smile on your lips, a tear threatening to spill from your eye.
henry fussed in the stroller and immediately calmed down when you placed a gentle hand on his tummy to steady him. “we’re at the playground. you’ll get to play here with your brother and sister when you’re a little older.”
pietra silently watched as you picked him up and gently laid his cheek to rest on yours, his little eyes adjusting to the light around him. henry looked around, the plethora of colours elicited a few excited ooh’s from his little body. “this is where i met your dada,” you smiled at henry.
henry cooed as you pointed to things at the playground and explained each ones significance. you knew he didn’t understand it yet, but you were willing to tell him the story over and over again. it was the biggest twist of fate you had ever experienced– that very morning, stevie had begged you to finally take a walk since it had been too cold for months now, and you agreed.
if you had been just a little more careful and told her to wait another day, week or month, chances are you wouldn’t be holding your baby while your husband made dinner at home with your other two kids.
pietra perked up when you walked over to her and she immediately extended her hands to take henry from you. “come to auntie p,” she baby talked as you handed her your son. “he has a nose just like lando’s.”
“he has the neck strength like lando’s, too.” you sit down beside her and closely watch as she gently bounced henry on her knees. just then, you blurted something that had been on your mind for a while. “do you think it’s weird that lando and i are together?”
“excuse me?” she turns to you with a confused face. “why would anyone think that?”
“i don’t know, i mean, like…” you take a second to collect your thoughts. it was starting to sound like you were regretting this life, meanwhile it was the complete opposite. “like the way we met, it was random.”
“it’s not random, love,” pietra rolls her eyes. “it’s something called fate.”
henry let out a happy noise at your question, his tiny fingers reaching out to poke at pietra’s face. “you agree, huh, lil’ man?” she asks as he pushes his whole hand to her cheek, and you can’t help but laugh at the unfolding scene in front of you.
after a few moments, when henry was back in his stroller and you two were on your way back home, you looked back to the area behind you with a sentimental look in your eye. “who knew playgrounds and playdates would bring me the loveliest life i could’ve imagined?”
Summary: Y/N moves into a high-end London apartment building, only to discover her new neighbor is Harry Styles—enigmatic, infuriating, and entirely too intoxicating. Their tension simmers beneath stolen glances, elevator encounters, and late-night mind games. But when she tries to break free from his spell with another man, Harry finally snaps—pinning her against her door with a dangerous confession.
He doesn’t like sharing.
And now, she’s in deep.
A/N: Me, writing this: Let’s keep it light, flirty, and fun! 😊Also me: What if he corners her in a hallway and says “I don’t like sharing” in a voice that ruins her entire life?
I am not responsible for any emotional distress caused by this man. He started it.
Part Two? Oh, you’re not ready. 😈
Wordt Count: 4,4k
Warnings:
Explicit sexual tension (if that’s a warning or an invitation, I’ll let you decide)
Strong language (Harry has a sharp tongue in more ways than one)
Mutual pining & slow burn (this is torture, besties)
Jealousy & possessiveness (Harry is territorial, and it shows)
Masturbation scene (inspired by a voice that should be illegal)
Power plays & control games (who’s really in charge here? TBD)
Cliffhanger ending (because I love pain)
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
"Welcome home, sweetheart."
That’s what I whispered to myself the moment I stepped into the apartment, dropping my suitcase onto the gleaming hardwood floor. The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. Someone who had their life figured out. Someone who wasn’t running from the wreckage of a messy breakup and a mother who never thought she was good enough.
But this was it. My fresh start.
The apartment still smelled like my aunt—lavender and vanilla, soft and comforting—but the silence was heavy. I hadn’t been back here since I was a kid, when she used to let me sit on the balcony and sip cocoa like I was some high-society socialite. It was surreal to think that this place was mine now.
And it was beautiful. Sprawling windows, high ceilings, a ridiculous amount of space for one person. The kind of apartment people only dream about having in London. But right now? It didn’t feel like home. Not yet.
So I spent the next few weeks making it mine.
I painted over the muted beige walls with warm, inviting colors. Deep greens and soft creams that made the space feel less like a museum and more like a sanctuary. I filled the shelves with books I’d collected over the years, lined the windows with plants that I prayed wouldn’t die, and threw myself into decorating. Gold accents. A velvet couch. Candles in every corner. The kind of place that made you want to curl up with a glass of wine and pretend the outside world didn’t exist.
By the time I was done, it finally felt like I belonged here.
And then I saw him.
It was in the building’s lobby, late afternoon, when I ran down to grab a package the doorman had been holding for me. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, especially not him—tall, broad shoulders, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead, wearing black running shorts and a loose t-shirt that clung to his chest.
Harry. Fucking. Styles.
I nearly tripped over my own feet.
He barely glanced at me as he strolled past, his fingers brushing over his damp jawline, lost in whatever was playing through his headphones. The air shifted the moment he walked by—like he carried his own gravity, something that pulled people in whether they wanted it or not.
I swallowed hard, gripping my package like it was a life raft. Play it cool.
I turned toward the elevator, trying to ignore the way my pulse hammered in my throat. But before I could press the button, I caught him looking. Just a flicker. A half-second. But it was enough.
And I had the stupidest thought.
What if he knew my name?
The thought lingered long after I stepped into the elevator, my pulse still unsteady from that fleeting glance. He didn’t, of course. Why would he? He was Harry Styles. A global superstar. A man who had sold out stadiums and had the world at his feet. And I was just the new tenant, the girl fumbling her way through a fresh start.
Still, something about the way he’d looked at me stuck. Like a brief moment of recognition. Or curiosity.
I told myself I was imagining things.
Days passed without another sighting, and I let myself settle into a rhythm. Mornings were spent at the café down the street, afternoons arranging my bookshelves, nights curled up on my velvet couch with a glass of wine and a too-long list of unanswered texts from my mother.
I should’ve known it was only a matter of time before we ran into each other again.
It happened on a Wednesday. I had just come back from the grocery store, struggling under the weight of way too many bags, my arms aching as I fumbled for my key card in front of the elevator.
And then—a voice from behind me.
"Here, let me get that."
I turned, nearly dropping everything in the process.
Him.
Harry stood there, casual and effortless, one hand reaching out to hold the elevator door open. His curls were slightly tousled, damp like he’d just come from a shower, and he smelled faintly of something clean and expensive. His hoodie hung loose over his frame, sweatpants slung low on his hips.
My brain short-circuited for a second.
"I—uh—thanks," I stammered, stepping inside before my face could betray how flustered I felt.
He followed, standing at the opposite side of the elevator, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket.
The doors slid shut.
For a moment, silence.
Then—his voice, smooth and easy, breaking through the thick air between us.
"New here?"
I nodded, shifting the weight of my bags against my hip. "Just moved in."
His gaze lingered, traveling over me like he was committing me to memory. And then, that smirk. Just the faintest tilt of his lips before he looked away, dragging his fingers through his curls.
"That explains why I haven’t seen you before," he mused, almost to himself.
I swallowed. "Do you… know everyone in the building?"
"Not really," he admitted, glancing at me sideways. "But I would’ve remembered you."
My stomach flipped.
The air felt different now, charged with something I didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t flirting, not exactly, but there was a weight to his words. A casual observation laced with something else.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but then the elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors slid open onto my floor.
A breath. A pause.
"See you around, then," he murmured, watching me as I stepped out.
I nodded, still breathless, and the doors closed before I could say another word.
I stood there in the hallway for a long moment, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I would’ve remembered you.
I should’ve known that was just the beginning.
Because after that, I started seeing him everywhere.
In the lobby, when he’d nod in passing, lips curled in a knowing smirk.
In the elevator, where the air always felt a little too thick, a little too charged.
Even at the café down the street, where he’d slip in unnoticed, baseball cap pulled low, fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.
It was like once I’d noticed him, I couldn’t unnotice him.
And the worst part? I was starting to think he’d noticed me, too.
Maybe it was in the way his gaze lingered just a second too long. Or the way his smirk deepened whenever he caught me staring.
But nothing—nothing—could’ve prepared me for what happened next.
It was a lazy Sunday morning when it happened.
Rain drummed lightly against the windows, the city still half-asleep, wrapped in a quiet kind of stillness. I had nowhere to be, nothing to do—so I took my time in the shower, letting the hot water melt away the lingering heaviness of the past few weeks.
By the time I stepped out, steam curled thick in the air, my skin flushed from the heat. A towel was loosely wrapped around my body, barely hanging on as I padded across the hardwood floor toward my closet.
I didn’t think.
Didn’t even glance at the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that framed my bedroom.
Didn’t consider that my apartment was directly across from someone else’s.
I just stood there, half-draped in a towel, fingers carding through my damp hair, completely oblivious.
Until I felt it.
A presence.
That unmistakable prickle of being watched.
My heart stilled.
Slowly—so slowly—I turned toward the window.
And there he was.
Harry.
Standing on his balcony, coffee cup frozen mid-air, gaze locked onto me.
A dark flicker passed through his eyes, something unreadable, something that sent a sharp, unexpected thrill straight through me.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us looked away.
I should’ve stepped back. Should’ve yanked the towel tighter, turned around, done something.
But I didn’t.
Instead, my grip on the fabric loosened slightly, breath caught in my throat as the realization sank in—he wasn’t looking away.
His jaw ticked.
Fingers tightened around the handle of his mug.
And then, his lips twitched, just the faintest flicker of amusement, a slow, knowing curve before he finally—finally—tore his gaze away.
I exhaled shakily, pulse hammering, my skin suddenly burning for an entirely different reason.
I didn’t know what the hell had just happened.
But one thing was certain.
This… this was dangerous.
Because now, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The way his gaze had burned through the distance between our apartments. The slow, deliberate way his lips had curled—not in shock, not in embarrassment—but in something far more dangerous.
Amusement.
As if he’d caught me in a game I hadn’t even realized I was playing.
And the worst part?
I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to stop.
In the days that followed, I kept catching him looking.
It started small—fleeting glances in the hallway when we passed each other. A slow drag of his eyes up my legs, a flicker of a smirk when he caught me watching him in return.
Then there were the elevator rides, where the air felt charged, thick with something unspoken. The way his fingers flexed when they brushed against the metal railing, the way he shifted just slightly closer when the doors slid shut.
One night, I was up late, sipping on a glass of wine on the rooftop terrace, letting the London skyline blur into a haze of city lights and half-formed thoughts.
And then—I felt it.
That unmistakable pull.
When I turned, I found him leaning against the railing, a cigarette perched between his fingers, watching me.
Not just in passing.
Not just out of curiosity.
But waiting.
The realization sent a shiver straight through me.
He wanted me to notice.
Wanted me to know that he was watching—that he was paying attention.
And I couldn’t tell if that made me want to run… or take a step closer.
It all came to a head in the elevator.
I’d just come back from a late-night grocery run, arms full, juggling my keys, my phone, and a bag that was already threatening to slip.
The doors slid open, and there he was.
Harry.
Dressed in a loose sweater and sweats, hair damp, like he’d just come from the shower.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then, with a lazy smirk, he reached out and held the door open, stepping back to let me in.
I muttered a breathless, "Thanks."
The doors slid shut.
And suddenly, we were alone.
The space felt smaller. The air thicker.
I shifted my bags in my arms, but one of them tilted—a carton of blueberries slipping free, scattering onto the floor.
“Shit,” I breathed, bending down quickly to grab them.
Big mistake.
Because the moment I crouched, I became acutely aware of how little space there was between us.
How close he was standing.
How his scent curled around me—something fresh, something expensive, something uniquely him.
My pulse hammered.
I reached for a berry just as he did, our fingers brushing.
Lingering.
And then, in the heavy silence, I heard it.
A low chuckle.
When I looked up, his gaze was already on me, dark, knowing, entirely too amused.
I swallowed hard.
“Need some help?”
His voice was low, dangerously smooth, like he already knew the answer.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Because this…
This wasn’t just a glance anymore.
This was a game.
And I had the sinking feeling I was already losing.
Because now, I wasn’t just thinking about him in passing.
Now, he was under my skin.
Now, every glance, every smirk, every moment of lingering silence between us was a loaded gun—cocked, ready, just waiting for someone to pull the trigger.
And maybe I was tired of pretending I didn’t want to.
Maybe I was done pretending at all.
!!!!
Because ever since that night in the elevator, something had shifted.
The way he looked at me lingered a fraction too long. The smirk he gave me every time we passed in the hallway felt a little too knowing.
Like he was waiting for me to slip.
And maybe I already had.
Because now, late at night, wrapped in the comfort of my own sheets, I was thinking about him.
Dangerous. Reckless. I didn’t care.
I poured myself a glass of wine, the rich red swirling in the dim glow of my bedside lamp. The city outside my window was alive, but in here—my apartment, my sanctuary—everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
I reached for my phone, flicking through my playlist until I found it.
His voice.
It was intentional.
I pressed play.
The song was slow, velvet-smooth, the kind that curled around my body and sank into my bloodstream.
The first note slipped through the speaker, and instantly, a shiver ran through me.
I exhaled, letting the tension ease from my body as I slid lower beneath the covers, my fingers trailing absently down my stomach.
Soft.
Light.
Teasing.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
But God, I wanted to.
His voice was everywhere, thick with longing, smooth like honey and sin, and I let it pull me under.
My thighs clenched as my hand wandered lower, fingers grazing sensitive skin, sending a ripple of pleasure up my spine.
Fuck.
I wasn’t quiet.
I didn’t want to be.
Because some part of me—some reckless, shameless part—wanted him to hear.
The thought sent a fresh wave of heat straight through me.
I pressed deeper, my breath catching as I found just the right rhythm, matching the lazy, sultry beat of his voice.
The apartment felt hot, suffocating, like he was here. Watching. Waiting.
My body arched, chasing that edge, my own whimpers slipping past my lips, louder now, unrestrained.
I imagined his hands instead of mine. His mouth.
And that was all it took.
Pleasure crashed over me, my back bowing, my breath catching on his name.
I didn’t hold back.
Didn’t muffle the sound.
Let him know exactly what I had done.
Exactly who I had done it for.
The air in my room felt thick as I lay there, heart pounding, skin flushed.
Fuck.
What the hell had I just done?
The next morning, I stepped out of my apartment, still half-dazed, still buzzing from the night before.
And then I froze.
Because he was there.
Leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, waiting.
Harry.
His curls were a little messy, his sweatpants hung low on his hips, and that smirk—that goddamn smirk—was already in place.
He dragged his gaze over me, slow and deliberate.
My breath caught.
He knows.
I knew it the moment he tilted his head, the moment his smirk deepened into something dangerous.
And then—
"Sleep well?"
His voice was low, teasing, laced with pure, unfiltered amusement.
I was absolutely, completely fucked.
That morning had changed everything.
He knew.
He knew.
And he made damn sure I knew that he knew.
The looks lingered longer. The smirks deepened. The air between us crackled with something unspoken but dangerous.
Every time we passed in the hallway, I felt his gaze skim over me, dragging heat in its wake.
Every time I stepped onto the rooftop terrace, he was there—watching, waiting, nursing a drink with that look in his eyes.
And then, one week later, fate decided to be cruel.
Because the elevator broke down.
With both of us inside.
It started out normal.
I had just gotten back from dinner—one of those “welcome to London” outings that my coworker insisted on. One glass of wine turned into three, and suddenly, my dress felt too tight and my skin felt too hot.
I just wanted to get home.
I stepped into the elevator, mind already wandering, and didn’t notice him until the doors slid shut.
Harry.
In a suit.
I swallowed hard.
I had seen him in a hundred different ways now. Sweaty from a jog. Shirtless on his balcony. In casual hoodies and ripped jeans.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
The black jacket was tailored to perfection, framing his broad shoulders. The white shirt underneath was undone just enough to hint at golden skin and a delicate silver cross resting against his chest.
He smelled like spice and cedarwood, a scent that curled around me in the small space, making my head spin.
I felt his eyes on me before I even looked up.
Dragging down my bare legs, lingering on the snug fit of my dress, pausing at the way the fabric clung to my curves.
I pressed the button for my floor.
The elevator jolted. Then stopped.
A small, dangerous silence settled.
I exhaled slowly, pressing the button again. Nothing.
My heart kicked up.
His voice, low and amused, broke the silence.
“Locked in, are we?”
I turned my head to look at him.
He was already looking at me.
I licked my lips. Bad move.
Because his gaze dipped to my mouth, and my stomach tightened.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to focus.
“Looks like it.”
I shifted slightly, the air suddenly too thick, too warm.
He leaned against the mirrored wall, arms crossing over his chest, watching me with that smirk.
Like he was enjoying this.
Like he had been waiting for this.
“You like playing games, don’t you?”
The words were soft, but they slid over my skin like a touch.
I blinked up at him, heart hammering.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
A slow, deliberate step forward.
My back met the cool surface of the elevator wall.
His scent filled my lungs, woodsy and warm, and I bit the inside of my cheek as his fingers grazed the metal railing beside my hip.
Not touching me.
But close enough that my breath hitched.
I should say something.
I should do something.
But the moment stretched, hot and charged, and I realized—
This isn’t a game anymore.
It should have been. It should have been a passing attraction, a fleeting thrill—just the consequence of living next door to someone too charming for his own good.
But the way he looked at me in that elevator? The way he let the silence stretch, let the tension coil so tight it stole my breath?
That wasn’t a game.
That was something else.
And when the elevator finally lurched back to life, when the doors slid open and I all but ran out, Harry stayed behind—his gaze heavy on my back, the weight of unspoken words pressing into my spine.
It happened a few nights later.
The storm came out of nowhere.
One second, the evening sky was a deep, velvety blue, the next, rain came crashing down, drenching the city in a relentless downpour.
I had made the mistake of walking to the small café down the street, my coat hanging loosely over my shoulders, a book tucked under my arm.
By the time I sprinted back inside the lobby, I was soaked through.
My dress clung to me like a second skin, damp fabric trailing down my thighs. My hair dripped against my shoulders, cold water sliding between my shoulder blades.
I shivered.
And then I saw him.
Harry.
Leaning against the sleek marble counter, phone in hand, a smirk tugging at his lips.
His emerald gaze flickered over me—slow and deliberate. Taking me in.
I swallowed hard, ignoring the way my stomach tightened.
“You’ll catch a cold,” he murmured, shaking his head in mock disapproval.
My pulse jumped.
I scowled, wringing out my sleeves. “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t look away.
Just stood there, watching.
And I knew—this was dangerous.
Because Harry liked this.
Liked the way my breath hitched, the way my body responded to him before I could even think.
And the worst part?
So did I.
I didn’t think when I followed him.
Didn’t question it when he gestured toward the hallway, when my feet moved before my brain could catch up.
By the time I realized where we were, I was already inside his apartment.
And God, it was warm.
Dim lighting. Soft music. The scent of cedarwood and something undeniably him.
I hovered near the door, my breath uneven.
Why was I here?
He disappeared for a moment, returning with a white towel. Holding it out.
I hesitated.
Then reached for it.
Our fingers brushed.
And it was like a spark, like static curling up my spine.
I sucked in a breath, knuckles brushing his wrist as I clutched the towel between us.
His jaw tensed.
I knew then—I wasn’t the only one who felt it.
He felt it too.
The air between us thickened, pulling me closer like a current, like gravity.
He was looking at me.
Not just looking. Watching. Memorizing.
His lips parted slightly, breath steady but controlled. His hands flexed by his sides, like he was holding back.
I shivered again, but not from the cold.
My pulse pounded in my throat, something deep and primal settling in my stomach.
I didn’t stop him when he stepped closer.
Didn’t pull away when his fingers lifted, trailing up my bare arm.
I tilted my chin.
Our faces inched together, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes.
Close enough that his breath ghosted over my lips.
And just when I thought he was going to do it—just when my heart stopped completely—
He pulled away.
“Not yet.”
His voice was low, rough.
Like it cost him something to stop.
Like he wanted this just as badly as I did.
And then he stepped back.
Leaving me breathless, burning, and utterly wrecked.
That was the only way to describe it.
The heat of his touch lingered long after he pulled away. The ghost of his breath still kissed my skin, and I hated how much I wanted more.
Not yet.
The words curled around my thoughts, tightening like a vice.
He had been holding back.
Not because he didn’t want to kiss me.
Because he wanted to wait.
Because he thought he was in control.
As if this was on his terms.
As if I would sit around, biting my lip and twirling my hair, waiting for him to decide when.
I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
Because if I spent one more night lying awake in bed, skin too hot, pulse too erratic, mind filled with thoughts of him—
His touch. His voice. His mouth—
I was going to lose it.
So, I made a decision. A reckless one.
I said yes to the date.
Alex.
Blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. Charming, in a practiced kind of way.
He was polite. Sweet. Held doors open and paid for my dinner without hesitation.
He was everything I should want.
And yet, as he sat across from me at the candlelit restaurant, talking about his job in finance, I found myself drifting.
I stirred my wine glass, barely hearing his words, mind stuck on someone else entirely.
On emerald green eyes.
On dimly lit elevators and the smell of spice and cedarwood.
On a voice lower than a whisper, pressing against my skin.
You like playing games, don’t you?
A shiver rippled down my spine.
Not from Alex.
Never from him.
I forced a smile, nodding along as he spoke, but the restlessness inside me only grew stronger.
It ached.
And when the night finally ended, when he walked me back toward my building with a lingering glance, I knew what was coming next.
A kiss.
I should have let him.
I should have leaned in, let my lips brush against his, let myself pretend for just a little while longer.
But something in my stomach twisted.
Something inside me revolted.
Because no matter how hard I tried—
It wasn’t Harry.
And it never would be.
So, I pulled back.
Mumbled an excuse.
Stepped inside my building—
And froze.
Because he was there.
Harry.
Waiting.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight.
The hallway was dim, lit only by the golden glow of overhead sconces, but I could still see every detail.
His shirt slightly rumpled.
His tie loosened around his throat, like he had been waiting a while.
A slow prickle ran down my spine.
I swallowed hard, pulse hammering as he watched me.
Not speaking. Not moving.
Just watching.
His gaze flickered past me, out toward the glass doors—toward Alex.
Something in his expression shifted.
Something cold.
Sharp.
Possessive.
“Fun night?”
His voice was casual.
Too casual.
But there was an edge to it. A razor-sharp tension that cut straight through me.
I lifted my chin, pushing past the sudden tightness in my throat.
I smirked. “Very.”
His eyes darkened.
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
I could feel the tension in the air, stretching tight between us.
Like a wire about to snap.
I took a step closer, tilting my head, poking at the bear.
“Why do you care?”
That was a mistake.
Because before I could blink, before I could even breathe—
He moved.
A slow, deliberate step forward.
Then another.
Until my back hit the door.
Until he was so close that I could feel his breath against my cheek.
The heat of his body just inches from mine.
The scent of spice and cedarwood, wrapping around me, making it impossible to think.
My stomach tightened, a pulse thrumming at the base of my throat.
This was new.
Harry had always watched. Always teased.
But he had never touched.
Not like this.
Not with his fingers tracing my jaw, with his body caging me in, with his lips hovering so, so close.
His emerald gaze flickered over me, slow and dangerous.
He studied me like he was memorizing something.
Like he was committing every single detail to memory.
I could barely breathe.
His thumb brushed against my cheek.
Featherlight.
A touch so delicate it made my knees weak.
Made my mind spin.
Then, his lips parted, voice dropping into something low and lethal.
“Because, sweetheart,” he murmured, tone dripping with something dark.
Something possessive.
Something I wasn’t ready for.
His fingers tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
Forcing me to see the heat in his eyes.
The warning.
“I don’t like sharing.”
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️🔥
❥ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando accidentally comes inside Y/N for the first time.
❥ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
❥ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.3k
❥ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, accidental creampie,
Based on this request.
The first thing Lando noticed when he stepped into her apartment was her. Her scent, that soft, intoxicating mix of vanilla and something uniquely her, lingered in the air. It made him forget the exhaustion of the race, the jet lag, the chaos of Monaco. All that mattered was the woman standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, a playful smirk on her lips.
“You’re late,” she said, her voice dripping with mock annoyance. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. She was wearing that outfit—the one with the oversized hoodie that she swore wasn’t his but definitely was—and a pair of tiny black shorts that made his mouth go dry.
Lando dropped his bag by the door and strode toward her, his heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the race. “Late? I came straight from the airport,” he countered, his voice low, teasing. He stopped just inches from her, his gaze locking with hers. “Unless you’re telling me you missed me that much.”
She rolled her eyes, but the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her. God, he loved that about her. The way she tried to play it cool, like she wasn’t just as desperate for him as he was for her. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her waist, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“You’re such a tease,” she muttered, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“And you’re a liar,” he shot back, his lips curving into a grin. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “Admit it, you’ve been thinking about me all week.”
She shivered, her nails digging into his chest just enough to make him groan. “Maybe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting off easy.”
Lando chuckled, the sound dark and rumbling in his chest. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
–
Their clothes were scattered across the floor within minutes, a trail leading from the kitchen to the bedroom. She was on her knees on the bed, her hands gripping the sheets as Lando stood behind her, his hands exploring every curve of her body. His touch was possessive, claiming, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And maybe he couldn’t.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of her back, and she whimpered, her hips pushing back into him.
“Lando,” she moaned, her voice shaky, desperate. She reached back, her fingers tangling in his hair as he nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made her toes curl.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. “Patience, love,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. “I’ve got you.”
His grip tightened, and she gasped as he pulled her back, her ass pressing against him. He smirked, his fingers digging into her skin as he gave her a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, and she cried out, her body trembling.
“Fuck,” she panted, her fingers tightening in the sheets. “Do that again.”
Lando obliged, his hand coming down on her ass with a force that made her moan. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
She nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”
He groaned, his hands sliding around to her front, his fingers teasing her clit. “Show me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
She arched her back, her body moving with a rhythm that was both desperate and deliberate. Her hips rolled against his hand, each motion sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. Lando’s breath hitched as he watched her, his fingers working her clit with a precision that made her toes curl into the sheets.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, strained. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her steady as she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body trembled with every touch, every stroke.
Her moans grew louder, more urgent, filling the room with a symphony of need. “Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking on his name. Her hands fisted the sheets, knuckles white as she clung to them for dear life. “Please... don’t stop.”
He didn’t. His fingers moved faster, harder, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel it building, that familiar tension coiling in her belly, tightening until she thought she might burst. And then she did. Her body convulsed, a cry tearing from her throat as she came undone beneath his touch. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling, breathless, utterly spent.
But Lando wasn’t done. He couldn’t stop. Not when she looked like that—her hair tangled, her skin flushed, her lips parted as she panted for air. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, anywhere he could reach.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice low, reverent. His hands slid down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before gripping her hips again. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She whimpered, her body still sensitive, still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock once more. “Then don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice shaky but determined. “Take me, Lando. I’m yours.”
Lando’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She was still on her hands and knees, her back arched perfectly, her ass presented to him like a gift. The sight alone made his cock throb, hard and aching, desperate for her. He ran his hand down the curve of her spine, feeling the way she shivered under his touch, before sliding it lower, over the swell of her ass. He gave her a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the room, and she gasped, her body jolting forward.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness between her thighs, teasing her entrance, already slick and ready for him. “So fucking perfect.”
She whimpered, her head dropping between her shoulders as she pressed back against his hand. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I need you.”
He didn’t make her wait. Gripping the base of his cock, he guided himself to her entrance, the tip pressing against her warmth. He paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation, the way her body trembled beneath him. Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside her, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.
Her breath hitched, a low moan escaping her lips as she felt him fill her completely. “God, Lando,” she gasped, her fingers clawing at the sheets. “You feel so big.”
He groaned, his hands tightening on her hips as he pulled out slightly, only to thrust back in, deeper this time. The sensation was overwhelming—her tightness, her heat, the way her body clenched around him like she was made for him. He couldn’t get enough of the view: her on her hands and knees, her back arched, her ass right there, begging for him. It was primal, possessive, and it drove him wild.
“Fuck, y/n,” he growled, his pace quickening. His thrusts became more urgent, more demanding, each one hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out. “You take me so well.”
She whimpered, her body rocking back to meet his every thrust, each one driving him deeper, harder, until she felt like he was everywhere—inside her, around her, consuming her. His cock stretched her in the most delicious way, filling her so completely that it almost hurt, but in the best kind of way. The angle was perfect, his length hitting that spot deep inside her that made her vision blur and her toes curl into the sheets. She could feel every ridge, every pulse of him as he moved, thick and unrelenting, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking, trembling with the intensity of it all. Her hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. “You feel... so big. So good.”
Her words were barely coherent, but they sent a jolt through him, his grip on her hips tightening as he drove into her with even more force. She cried out, her body arching, her ass pressing back against him as if she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. Every thrust was a revelation, his cock sliding in and out of her with a slick, wet sound that only heightened the heat between them. She could feel him everywhere—the stretch of her walls around him, the way her body clenched and fluttered, trying to pull him deeper, keep him there forever.
“I’m close,” she panted, her voice shaky, desperate. Her thighs trembled, her entire body taut like a bowstring, ready to snap. “Please, Lando, don’t stop.”
He didn’t. His pace became relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each one hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her see stars. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.
He could feel it too—the way her walls tightened around him, the way her body trembled with the force of her impending release. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, anywhere he could reach. “Come for me, love,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Let go.”
And she did. Her body convulsed, a cry tearing from her throat as she came undone beneath him. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling, breathless, utterly spent. But Lando wasn’t done. He couldn’t stop. Not when she looked like that—her hair tangled, her skin flushed, her lips parted as she panted for air. He kept thrusting, driving her through her orgasm, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his pace becoming erratic. “I can’t hold back.”
She whimpered, her body still sensitive, still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock once more. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice shaky but determined. “Take me, Lando. I’m yours.”
And with a final, deep thrust, he did. His release washed over him, hot and intense, as he spilled inside her, his body shuddering with the force of it. He collapsed over her, his chest heaving, his heart racing as they both came down from the high. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the feel of their bodies pressed together, and the undeniable truth that they were exactly where they were meant to be.
Lando’s body tightened, every muscle coiled like a spring as he thrust into her one final time, deeper than before, burying himself to the hilt. She gasped, her body arching, her walls clamping down around him in a desperate, pulsing rhythm. It was too much—the heat, the tension, the way she squeezed him—and he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, his release hit him like a tidal wave, hot and relentless, spilling deep inside her. His hips jerked uncontrollably, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her, filling her with every drop.
She felt it—the way he twitched inside her, the warmth flooding her, the sheer force of his orgasm rippling through him. It sent her over the edge again, her own body shuddering as she came with him, waves of pleasure crashing over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. Lando collapsed forward, his chest pressed against her back, his breath coming in ragged gasps against her skin. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as their bodies trembled together, both of them drowning in the aftershocks.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing—fast, unsteady, synchronized—and the heat of their skin pressed together, slick with sweat. Lando buried his face in the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her shoulder in a soft, reverent kiss. His fingers traced her waist, possessive and gentle all at once, like he couldn’t bear to let her go.
She could feel his heartbeat, rapid and wild, against her back, matching the frantic pace of her own. His weight felt grounding, comforting, like he was anchoring her to the moment, to him. He gave a shaky exhale, his breath hot against her skin, and she could feel the tension slowly leaving his body as though his limbs had given out. Even in his exhaustion, his hands explored her body lightly, caressing her soft skin as if to remind them both they were still present, and still on their high. Instinctively, she turned her head to kiss his cheek, using the hands that once clutched the bedsheets, to stroke his hand on her waist.
She knew right then—they were exactly where they were meant to be.
Lando pulled out slowly, his breath still ragged, his body trembling with the remnants of his orgasm. She gasped softly, the sensation of him slipping out of her strangely intimate, the space he left behind warm and empty. But then she felt it—the unmistakable trickle of his release leaking out of her. Her thighs twitched, a shiver running through her as she savored the sensation, strange but intoxicating. She could feel the warmth of it, slow and deliberate, sliding down her sensitive skin. It sent a jolt of electricity through her, her body still on that high, still craving more of him.
But when Lando looked down, his body suddenly stiffened. His breath caught in his throat. “Shit,” he muttered, his eyes wide with panic. “I—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I’m sorry.”
She turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft.
He ran a hand through his damp curls, his heart racing. “I—I came inside you,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, it’s never—I never—”
A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached up, cupping his cheek. “Lando,” she said, her tone calm, reassuring. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”
He blinked, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
She nodded. “Positive.” Her fingers brushed lightly against his skin. “But it’s cute that you’re freaking out.”
He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, voice muffled against her skin.
She laughed, the sound soft and full of warmth. “You’re stuck with me, Norris,” she teased, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
His words sent warmth flooding through her, settling deep in her chest. She felt it again—that slow, intimate reminder of how close they’d been, how much he’d given her. The weight of it lingered between them, unspoken but deeply felt.
“Don’t move,” he murmured suddenly, his voice still rough but gentle. He shifted off the bed, his movements slightly unsteady, and disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the sound of water running, a soft clatter, and then he was back, a warm, damp cloth in his hand.
She turned her head, watching him as he knelt beside her, his eyes heavy with something she couldn’t quite name—devotion, maybe, or tenderness. Gently, he pressed the cloth between her thighs, his touch careful, almost tender. She inhaled sharply, the warmth of the cloth contrasting with the cool air of the room, the sensation both soothing and intimate. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the curve of her thigh, and she let out a soft sigh, her body still humming with pleasure.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low, tinged with concern.
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “No,” she whispered. “It feels... good.” Her cheeks flushed as she admitted it, but she couldn’t help it—the thought of him inside her, filling her so completely, made her heart race all over again.
He studied her, his brow furrowing slightly, before smirking, that familiar teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Good?” he repeated, his voice dipping into that playful tone she both loved and hated. “Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrayed her. “Not like I want to,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against his hand where it still rested on her thigh.
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her hip, his breath warm against her skin. “Good,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin. “Because you’re mine, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He finished cleaning her up, his touches tender, his eyes never leaving hers. When he was done, he dropped the cloth onto the floor and slid back into bed, pulling her into his arms. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady under her ear. For the first time, she wasn’t afraid of what this meant, of where they were going. He’d given her everything—his body, his heart, and now, this.
It was theirs, and no one could take it away.
She tilted her head up, her lips brushing against his in a featherlight kiss. “I missed you,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost shy.
He smiled, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, the warmth of his touch making her shiver. “I missed you too,” he admitted, his voice low, raw. “More than you can imagine.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “It felt... good,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at him through her lashes, her heart pounding in her chest. “When you came inside me. It was... really hot.”
Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he stared at her. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice teasing, but there was a hint of something deeper in his tone. His hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers brushing against her sensitive skin. “Tell me more.”
She bit her lip, her body already humming with the memory. “Feeling it... inside me,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “And then, when it started to drip out...” She shuddered, her thighs pressing together instinctively. “It was so fucking hot.”
He groaned, his fingers tightening on her thigh. “Fuck, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His other hand slid up to her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him, his lips brushing against her ear. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as she felt the heat of his body against hers. “Do it again,” she whispered, her voice shaky but bold. “Come inside me again. I want to feel it. I want to feel you.”
Lando growled, the sound sending a thrill through her. His lips crashed against hers in a fierce kiss, his hands moving to her hips, holding her steady. “You’re killing me, love,” he muttered against her lips, his breath hot, ragged. “But fuck, if I don’t want to do exactly that.”
She moaned, her body arching into his, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Then don’t hold back,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “I’m yours, Lando. All yours.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes blazing with intensity. “And I’m yours,” he said, his voice low, commanding. “Every fucking part of me.”
Then he kissed her again, deep and demanding, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And she knew then—he never would.
Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.
Word Count: 5.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!
“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”
“27.”
“Harry, come on.”
“What?”
“I need an answer.”
“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”
Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”
“We are.”
“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"
“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?”
“Mm.”
“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”
“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”
“27.”
“Harry.”
He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”
Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”
He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”
“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”
“Oh, did I? Oops.”
“You’re mean.”
“Yeah. But you like me.”
“Not right now.”
“Yes now. Always.”
You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”
“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”
“Harry—”
“What, angel?”
You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”
“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”
“We agreed to study.”
“We are.”
“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”
“So?”
“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”
“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.
You grab the cards. “Oops.”
Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat.
“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”
“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”
“Because I have you.”
“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”
“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”
You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”
“Mm…for now.”
“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”
Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”
“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”
You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”
“What? They’re just words, baby.”
“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”
He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”
You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”
“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”
“Harry…”
“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”
You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”
“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”
You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.
You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.
His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.”
Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”
He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it.
The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.
However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.
Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.
“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”
“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.
“I know. But today is not that day.”
Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.
“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.
You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.
He winks.
With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.
And every trace of Harry has gone.
“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”
“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”
“Deal.”
You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.
Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present.
You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.
Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.
But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.
You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.
He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.
And that’s when he finds you.
Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.
He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.
“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.
“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”
Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.
Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.
And the same earrings you’re wearing now.
But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”
You smirk. “You guess?”
“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”
To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.
“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”
You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”
“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”
“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.
He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.
He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before.
Compared to them, you’re just…you.
Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.
You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.
“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”
You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.
“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”
“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”
“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”
You lean back. “You saw?”
“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”
“H…”
“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”
He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret.
And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.
And you’ll be devastated.
Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.
He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.
Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.
“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”
“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”
Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”
He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”
“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”
“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”
“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress.
You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you.
You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”
Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”
“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”
The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.
“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.
You swallow. “…yes.”
“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”
You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”
“Mhm. Not Zack.”
“No. No, not Zack.”
He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”
Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…
You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.
He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.
He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.
“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”
“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”
And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.
You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.
And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.
His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still.
You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.
“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”
You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”
“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”
And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside.
You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.
But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.
“What…what did I do?” you pant.
He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”
He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”
“I…I know.”
“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”
You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”
“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”
“Oh…”
His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”
Your lips part. “You…oh.”
“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”
“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”
It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”
Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.
And that’s your favorite part.
“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”
You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants.
He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”
You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.
You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking.
“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”
You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”
You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body.
You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”
Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.
The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.
And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.
But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again.
And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.
“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”
“Mm…mhm.”
“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”
With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.
“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”
You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.
“Okay. Keep going.”
You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them.
“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”
“Ye—yeah.”
“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”
Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it.
And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again.
The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.
Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.
“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”
You only mewl. Loud and incoherent.
He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.
His bandana.
It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.
“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”
“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”
Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.
“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”
You nod.
“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”
Your lashes flutter.
“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”
Another nod, slower.
“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”
Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.
The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth.
Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric.
He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more.
And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.
“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”
You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum.
“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”
Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.
“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”
You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.
So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.
Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling.
He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.
He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”
He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.
You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything.
And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either.
“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.
You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”
“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”
“Mhm. Very.”
“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”
“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”
His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”
“Mm…unlikely.”
“But maybe.”
“Maybe not.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Might hurt.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”
“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”
“Tell her you’re staying.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”
“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”
The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”
His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”
He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.
Summary: Lando loves his girlfriend and he always tells her his uncensored thoughts
Word count: 1.4k
Lando actually fell when he saw y/n, he fell down some steps at a restaurant when he saw her and actually he caused quite the scene. Obviously he didn't speak to her that night, but luck would have it he saw her a few weeks actually in the same hotel as him.
There's was a fleeting moment that he thought she might've been setting it up but then he found out she has no idea who he was or anything about F1. Aside from knowing Lewis Hamilton and Michael Schumacher. But he found the courage to ask her on the date and when that went well, the rest was history.
"You're so pretty." Lando smiles watching y/n getting ready for going to the track. Compared to him, she's dressed up but compared to other wags she's probably underdressed.
"You're pretty too." Y/n laughs then turning and getting up onto her knees as she kisses him softly since he's lying belly down on the bed with his chin resting on his arms which had been the perfect position just to watch her and wait for when she's ready to go.
"How mad would you be if I said I want to wreck how good you look?" Lando asks making y/n laugh and turn back to the mirror as she decide not to even acknowledge his words.
"You're funny." Y/n hums then putting on her make up and finishing up before she stands up. "Come on, let's go. Before you actually try me with your urges."
"I like this dress. It's nice." Lando smiles while giving the hem a small tug as if subtly trying to pull it down from where it'd rode up. "It really suits you."
"Thank you." Y/n grins as they step into the lift and Lando leans in kissing her neck since he knows better than to mess up her make up with a kiss.
-
Y/n had been having a very good night and while Lando is also having a good time, he's not quite as far gone as y/n and after a shot he's almost certain her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head but she flings herself forward with a grin and makes more than just Lando rush forward in fear of her landing face first into the floor.
"I got you baby." Lando states holding a hand on her tummy and her back to keep her steady as she whips head around at him then smiles lazily as if she didn't realise it was him.
"I need to pee, baby. Can you come with me?"
He shouldn't really but he sighs and nods with a small smile before he takes her waist and begins to guide her and when they get to the bathroom the other women give him the dirtiest look before y/n speaks up and very drunkenly explains then they seem to shoot him a more sympathetic expression or an adoring one for the fact he's being such a good boyfriend.
He guides her into the stall and sighs moving to stand in there with her though he knows it risks them being thrown out. But he doesn't want to leave her in there on her own.
"I love you." Y/n smiles as once she's sitting on the toilet probably having one of the longer pees of her life.
"I love you too baby." Lando smiles while cupping her face, they're both past the point of caring that she's on the toilet and y/n seems pretty happy that Lando is there without a second thought about it. "I don't know how I got so lucky to have you as mine but I have to make sure I tell you."
"You always tell me. I've never met a guy who tells a woman how much he loves her as much as you do." Y/n sighs dreamily while Lando chuckles a little. “You don’t just compliment me either. You always give me the most love.”
“That’s because I love you and you deserve the most love.” Lando smiles as he tucks some stray hairs behind her ear. “You know, I think you look prettiest when we’re at home and you’re just lying in bed waiting for me.”
That gets a fairly flustered reaction as she shifts back from where she managed to rest of chin on his lower tummy, looking up at him with shiny big eyes and an unwavering amount of love.
There's no denying the two love each other, but sometimes people are surprised by how far Lando is willing to go to show his love. He does things most boyfriend's would be too lazy to do, or too embarrassed.
Like actually helping y/n wipe because she's obviously not really got the ability to do so without almost falling over.
"Alright, princess. I think it's home time." Lando smiles as he helps her wash her hands.
-
Y/n is no stranger to Lando's camera lens, the man has more pictures of her than she had ever thought possible. Terabytes of hard drives just with pictures of y/n, she feels like he could make one of those photos that are made up of little photos but she isn't about to plant that idea in his head.
However when she sees a notification that he's posted on his jpg account. He usually forgets he even has the account then randomly remembers and posts or when he's been on a trip or there's been an especially monumental moment with the team that he manages to have his camera around for. He'll post on those occasions, but neither of those have happened.
Instead Lando has posted 3 posts of 20 photos each of y/n from the past 3 years.
A lot of them are mugshots but some of them she does really sort of see the reason Lando constantly sings her praises.
"Lando..." Y/n mumbles interrupting his sim time because she's knows it's a privilege she has and she makes full use of. "You didn't tell me you were making a post for our anniversary."
"That's because it was meant to be a surprise, baby." Lando laughs wrapping his arms around her as he ignores his sim and leaving his car to crash into the barrier. "Happy anniversary."
"Has it really been 3 years?" Y/n asks softly making Lando grin and nod.
"It really has." Lando confirms while kissing her. "I know you hate some of the photos but most of them show you exactly how gorgeous you are."
"Usually I want to argue with you but those photos are all incredible, even the ugly ones." Y/n smiles while leaning into him.
"None of them are ugly don't say that." Lando frowns while y/n hums with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug his head and kiss him a few times. "I'll literally tape your eyes open and show you a power point show of just how beautiful you are with every detail I can provide and show for you."
"I'm sure you will." Y/n laughs lightly before she leans in and kisses him a few times.
"You don't believe me?" Lando questions shifting as if he's about to get up and fulfil the promise now.
"No! I believe you. I believe you." Y/n exclaims before sighing softly as he hums and slumps back down with a smirk of victory.
"There was a few options I couldn't share that I had to keep for my eyes only, as beautiful as you are there are parts that I'm not willing to share."
"So nice to know you're not willing to distribute soft porn of me." Y/n smiles patting his head before she sighs. "It's quite reassuring. Even if I do think we may need to find a way to password encrypt your memory banks."
"Don't worry baby, I make sure they are never going to fall into the wrong hands. They're very safe with me." Lando promises as he squeezes her and pulls her into a kiss. "I'd never let anything like that happen."
"Thank you." Y/n smiles lightly before she sighs and looks at his sim. "I should leave you to it."
"No, why don't you...show me what you can do? This is for the Quadrant video and I think everyone should get to see your face when you concentrate."
"I hate you so much." Y/n laughs shaking her head at him.
"I didn't hear a no." Lando smirks then patting her in gesture to position herself on his lap. "They'll love it."
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N shared their first night as husband and wife, their love unfolding in soft, unhurried touches.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.6k
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, soft sex
Based on this request.
Moonlight spilled through the windows of the centuries-old Italian villa, painting soft silver streaks across the plush cream carpet. The air was still thick with the lingering scent of gardenias and white roses, a delicate reminder of the wedding that had just taken place. Y/N stepped inside first, still wearing her gorgeous wedding gown, though she walked more slowly now than she had all day. The bustle of the reception had ended, the guests had gone to their nearby accommodations, and there, in the quiet hush of night, she and Lando were finally alone.
He closed the door behind them with a soft click, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You realize,” he said in a hushed tone, “that this is the first time we’ve been truly alone all day.”
She laughed gently, leaning back against one of the carved wooden bed posts. “I know. I feel like every time I turned around, someone was trying to talk to us, take a photo, or push another glass of champagne into my hand.”
Lando advanced toward her, and her breath caught in her throat. The day had been long—joyful, intense, and thrilling—but now the air seemed charged with a different kind of anticipation. His dark suit jacket was still on, the fabric slightly rumpled from the evening’s events.
Lando gently brushed his knuckles along her cheek, an affectionate gesture he had come to do so often in the past three years. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice warm with concern and tenderness.
She opened her eyes, meeting the sea-green gaze of her new husband. A timid, excited smile curved her lips. “I’m perfect,” she whispered, stepping forward so she could rest her forehead against his. “But I’m also exhausted… in a good way. I still can’t believe this is real.”
Lando chuckled under his breath, the teasing spark that always danced in his eyes visible once again. “You better believe it, Mrs. Norris,” he said, letting the last two words hang in the air. He grinned when he noticed the faint flush on her cheeks. Even after everything, she still got shy whenever he said her new name.
She tried to look away, biting down on her bottom lip to stifle a bigger smile. “I’m still not used to hearing that,” she admitted.
“Well, you have a lifetime to get used to it.” His voice was warm, edged with quiet amusement. Instead of kissing her, he tilted his head slightly, letting the moment linger between them. Her gaze drifted downward, landing on his tie, which hung loosely around his neck—a familiar sight, one that carried memories of whispered goodbyes and hurried, stolen moments.
He followed her gaze and gave a small laugh. “Want to do the honors?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.
Y/N flushed but nodded, motioning for him to step closer. Carefully, she began to loosen the tie from around his neck. Her knuckles brushed his throat, and she felt his pulse thrum under her fingertips.
“You know,” she teased, glancing up into his eyes, “I’ve done this so many times, but never as Mrs. Norris.”
A shiver of delight lit up his gaze. “Has a nice ring to it, huh?”
She swallowed, nodding. “It really does.”
His hands came up to gently rest on her waist, and a faint sigh escaped her lips. Outside, a nightingale trilled somewhere in the villa’s gardens. The music that had swirled throughout the day was gone, replaced by their own quiet breaths and the soft rustle of her gown as she shifted.
“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, stepping back an inch to take her in. The white lace and satin of her wedding dress still hugged her figure perfectly, though the train was slightly wrinkled from hours of dancing and walking around. “I can’t believe I got to see you walking down that aisle.”
She smiled shyly, remembering how his eyes had glistened with emotion during the ceremony. “I was so nervous,” she admitted. “Not because I was unsure of you, but just… the whole day felt so surreal. And now it’s over, and we’re actually here.”
Lando reached up, his fingers slipping into her hair with deliberate slowness, threading through the intricate twists and waves. He didn’t rush, just let his touch linger, savoring the feel of her beneath his hands. “Well, now we have tonight,” he murmured, his voice warm and low, “and every other night after that. But let’s start with tonight, yeah?”
She closed her eyes as his fingers brushed through her hair, reveling in the warmth that swept over her. “Mmm,” she murmured, “I’d like that.” She opened her eyes and gave him a soft smile, filled with love.
Y/N closed her eyes again as his finger tips slid gently into her hair. Pin by pin, he removed each hidden bobby pin and decorated comb. Occasionally, he would pause, carefully pulling out a pearl-tipped hairpin that made her wince slightly when it snagged on a few strands. Lando would whisper a soft apology, pressing a kiss to her temple and carrying on. It was slow, sweet work, and it made her shoulders loosen with every piece he freed.
Eventually, her hair tumbled down in soft waves around her shoulders. He ran his hands gently through it, smiling as he massaged her scalp. “There,” he breathed, admiring the sight of her with her hair out and her wedding dress still glowing in the moonlight. “You look so gorgeous.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, cheeks aflame, unable to handle just how fully and unabashedly he adored her. “You say that like you didn’t see me in my dress all day.”
“Call me greedy, but I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it,” he teased, leaning in for another slow, tender kiss. “But as much as I love this dress on you…” He paused, letting his fingers trace the intricate lace at her shoulders. “I’m also incredibly eager to get you out of it.”
A bubble of laughter slipped past her lips. “Oh, Mr. Norris,” she teased back, doing her best to summon confidence. Even after all their time together, sometimes it still felt surreal that this charming, successful, impossibly handsome man was hers. “Think you can figure out how to get me out of it?”
Lando glanced at the hidden zipper. He gently turned her around so he could examine the elaborate array of tiny buttons that ran down the back. “Well… it might take a while,” he said, a slow grin spreading over his face. “I’m up for the challenge.”
She laughed, remembering the many times they had navigated zippers and tiny buttons over the years of their relationship. “I trust you haven’t forgotten your technique,” she teased, turning around so he could work on the hidden row of buttons trailing down her spine. “But do be careful—I don’t want you ripping the dress. My poor mother might have a heart attack if she heard.”
He pressed a playful kiss to the back of her neck, setting her skin alight. “Don’t worry, I’m still the same man who’s mastered the art of carefully getting you out of complicated outfits.”
Carefully, Lando’s fingers began working on the delicate row of buttons. It was fiddly and complicated, but his patience never wavered. He trailed tiny, adoring kisses down the back of her neck, across her shoulders, and along her spine whenever he managed to open another inch of the dress. Each time, she shivered. The warmth of his breath, combined with the electric sensation of his lips, shot tingles of anticipation through her body.
It took him a few moments of concentration. Every so often, one stubborn button would make her giggle as he struggled, and he’d lightly bite his lip in mock frustration. But eventually, her dress loosened around her torso. She shrugged her shoulders and let it slip down to her hips.
Lando stepped to her side, letting his hand graze from her bare shoulder down her arm in a comforting stroke. He’d seen her body countless times before; they were anything but strangers to one another in that aspect. Yet, the tenderness in his eyes made it feel like the first time all over again.
He noticed the slight stiffness in her posture. Her arms instinctively crossed over her chest, an old habit she’d never quite shaken. Gently, he placed his hands on top of hers, uncurling her arms. “Hey,” he said softly, sliding his palm against her cheek to angle her face toward him, “look at me.”
She blinked, looking up, her eyes laced with a hint of vulnerability.
He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you,” he said, voice serious despite the smile playing on his lips. “All of you. Every inch of you—always have.”
Y/N’s throat constricted with emotion. She remembered the days she thought she’d end up alone, the times she firmly believed no man—especially one like Lando—would genuinely want her. And yet here he was, the man she once viewed as a charming playboy, revealing his true heart day after day.
She nodded slightly, letting him slip her dress the rest of the way down. He caught it before it hit the floor, placing it carefully across a chair so it wouldn’t crumple. When he turned back around, she stood there in her simple white lingerie, light shining on her warm skin. His gaze was filled with adoration.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, reaching out to trace a slow circle along her waist. “I can’t believe I get to call you my wife now.” He exhaled softly, his gaze roaming over her. “Every part of you… I’m honestly a little overwhelmed just looking at you.”
“Overwhelmed?” she echoed, a quiet laugh blending with her disbelief.
He smiled back, smoothing his palms over her waist and up along her ribs, stopping just under her breasts. “Yes, overwhelmed,” he repeated, leaning in so his lips brushed against hers. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Her heart squeezed at his confession. Remembering the times she doubted his intentions, or believed that he’d never truly settle down, it all felt distant now. “I love you,” she murmured. She was still shy; the difference was, now that they were married, she felt a deeper sense of belonging and trust.
He pulled her closer, pressing his chest to hers. The contact was a slow burn, warmth radiating from his body into hers, as though they were made to fit perfectly together. Y/N let her hands roam over his well-fitted suit jacket, fiddling with the single button he still had fastened at the waist.
“I think it’s my turn,” she teased, leaning in to brush a kiss on his collarbone, right at the base of his neck. She slid her hands up to push his suit jacket off. He let her do it, an amused glint shining in his eyes. She lingered, removing his cufflinks and sliding them onto the bedside table, then carefully unfastening the first few buttons of his shirt.
Her cheeks grew warm as she revealed inch after inch of his chest. Lando’s breath caught a little when her fingers grazed his skin. His voice, husky with desire, found its way back to her ears. “All these years and you still make me nervous,” he said quietly.
He let out a self-conscious chuckle, remembering the time he’d told her exactly how he felt on a quiet evening in London. How the mere thought of her had made him lightheaded. How he couldn’t get her out of his head, no matter how many races he won or how many practice laps he took. She was always there, the one person who truly saw him for who he was beyond fame. And, ironically, she was the one who had tried to push him away at first.
“Because…” He swallowed, pressing his forehead to hers once again. “I just want to make this night unforgettable. You… you deserve everything. Not just tonight, but for the rest of our lives.”
Y/N smiled against his lips, her fingers finally managing to peel his shirt away. She let her hand glide up his bare torso, feeling the soft planes and gentle ridges of muscle beneath her palm. “You’re here,” she reminded him. “That’s all I need.”
His warm laughter vibrated against her, and he lowered his head to kiss the tender spot at the base of her throat. “I’m so in love with you, it’s ridiculous,” he said, a grin brightening his features. “Now, wife… shall we make it official in every sense of the word?”
A wave of heat passed through her, and she nodded shyly. It was one thing to do this after three years of dating—intimate moments had come before, though they always seemed laced with a sense of wonder. But there was something profoundly different about sharing the first night as husband and wife, a sense of newness glowing between them. It felt both thrilling and comforting, like stepping into a future they had carved for themselves despite every obstacle.
They navigated their way toward the large four-poster bed draped in sheer white curtains. Candles flickered on the nightstand, their golden light giving the entire space a dreamlike aura. Lando helped Y/N onto the mattress as if she were the most precious thing in the world, pressing a kiss to her hand before stretching out beside her.
She let her eyes linger on him—the signature smile, his messy curls, the strong line of his jaw. “Can you believe we’re married?” she whispered, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “Like… actually married.”
He pressed a kiss into her palm. “It’s the best decision I’ve ever made,” he responded, voice thick with emotion. “I can’t wait for tomorrow, and the next day… and the rest of our lives.”
She exhaled a laugh of relief, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “I used to think you’d never want to settle down. I used to think… that you didn’t even like me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Me? I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into that party and refused to laugh at my jokes,” he teased. “I’ve always teased you, but only because you’re so darn cute when you get riled up.” Then his tone softened. “If only I knew sooner how you felt… how insecure you were about us. I would have spent every second assuring you.”
She blinked back tears. “You’ve done a great job of reassuring me. I just… I guess I never thought you’d want something so permanent.”
He cupped her jaw, guiding her gaze to his. “I want permanent,” he whispered, a little breathless. “I want you.”
She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes and brushed them away with the back of her hand. It was ridiculous how deeply in love she was with him, but after all the heartbreak and all the doubts, she had never been so certain of someone.
They kissed slowly, at first just a tender press of lips that slowly deepened. His hand ran down her back, tracing small circles. She let her body melt into his, feeling the tension of the day slip away. Her bare skin was flushed and tingling, but there was no panic this time when he ran his palm over the curve of her waist to the arch of her hips. She felt safe, cherished.
Their kisses became more fervent but still measured, each move a deliberate exploration of the warmth and closeness they now got to call theirs forever. She brushed her fingers through his curls, pulling him closer, her heart beating wildly as she let herself sink further into the mattress.
He paused only to hover above her, pressing his forehead to hers once more. “Any second thoughts?” he teased gently, though there was a hint of earnestness in his tone.
“Not one,” she replied, pulling him in for another kiss. She loved the weight of him, the way his breath hitched as she curled her leg around his hip. The soft hum of approval in his throat sent a delicious thrill through her body.
Lando’s lips brushed down her neck, feather-light and deliberate, sending shivers cascading through her body. God, he knew exactly how to make her melt. His breath was warm against her skin, and she felt his teeth graze her pulse point—just enough to make her gasp. His hands slid down her sides, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips as if he were memorizing her all over again. She arched into him, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Her breath hitched as his lips trailed lower, skimming the delicate expanse of her collarbone before finally reaching her chest. He paused there, his warm breath brushing against her skin, and she could feel the weight of his gaze as he took her in. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His lips captured one nipple, and she let out a shaky moan, her fingers tangling in his curls.
Y/N couldn’t wait anymore. The tension had been building all day—hell, all year—and now it was too much. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please… fuck me already.”
He chuckled softly—that same playful, teasing laugh that always drove her wild. “So impatient,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her chest as he spoke. “We’ve got all night, Mrs. Norris.” But even as he teased her, he was already moving, his hands sliding up her thighs as he shifted back to kneel between her legs.
He stood up briefly, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down his legs, followed by his boxers. His cock sprang free, painfully hard, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she watched him. He was so beautiful, so perfectly hers, and the thought made her chest ache with emotion.
Lando leaned down again, his hands sliding under the waistband of her thong. “Let’s get these off,” he said softly, his voice thick with need. He slipped the delicate fabric down her legs, tossing it aside before letting his gaze roam over her. His eyes darkened as he took her in, and she felt a flush creep up her chest at the intensity of his stare.
“Why did you stop?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers along her inner thigh. “Just… let me look at you,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “I can’t believe you’re really mine.”
She squirmed under his gaze, her thighs pressing together as she fought the urge to close her legs. “Lando,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Please…”
He didn’t make her wait any longer. He hovered over her again, his body pressing into hers as he kissed her deeply. His hands cradled her face, his touch so tender it made her chest tighten. She felt the tip of his cock brush against her entrance, and she let out a soft whimper, her hips arching toward him.
“Is that good, baby?” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with need.
“Yes,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please, Lando…”
He smiled, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. “I need to make love to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Slowly, he pushed into her, his movements deliberate and unhurried. She gasped, her nails digging into his back as she felt him stretch her, fill her completely.
He started slow, his thrusts deep and steady, each one drawing a shaky moan from her lips. His eyes never left hers, and the intensity of his gaze made her feel like she was the only person in the world. God, he was so gentle with her, so careful, and it made her chest ache with how much she loved him.
“You are so good to me… so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft and warm against hers. “And you’re perfect,” he murmured, his breath mingling with hers. His hips moved in a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could feel the way he was holding back—how careful he was being—and it only made her love him more.
She was a moaning mess, her nails dragging down his back as she clung to him. His name fell from her lips in a breathless whisper, over and over, and he seemed to savor every sound she made. “Lando,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt the tension building inside her.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. He was so tender, so loving, and she couldn’t believe that this man—her husband—was finally hers. Forever.
She started to tear up, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. “I can’t believe this is real,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
He kissed her again, slow and deep, his hips never faltering. “It’s real,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re my wife now. And I’m never letting you go.”
She felt the tears spill over, but she didn’t care. She just held onto him, her body moving with his as he made love to her with a tenderness that left her breathless. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I love you.”
He smiled, his eyes soft as he looked down at her. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “More than anything.” His thrusts grew a little faster, a little harder, and she gasped, her hips arching toward him. “Is that good, baby?” he whispered, his voice rough with need.
“Yes,” she breathed, her nails digging into his back. “Yes, Lando…”
He kissed her again, his lips soft and warm against hers. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “Because I’m never going to stop loving you.”
Lando returned to slow, measured movements, letting the moment stretch between them like something sacred. He moved inside her with a rhythm that was unhurried, deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of her body all over again. His thrusts were deep, each one slow and steady, pushing her closer to the edge while still holding her there, suspended in the warmth of him. She could feel the way he savored every moment—pressing into her with tender care, pulling back just enough to make her ache for him. His hands slid up her sides, his fingers brushing over her ribs, his touch so soft it made her shiver.
“God, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire, “you feel so... soft. So perfect.” His breath was hot against her neck, his lips grazing her skin as he spoke. He tipped his head back for a moment, his eyes closing as he sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t believe you’re mine. All of you... like this... mine.”
She whimpered, her nails digging into the muscles of his back as she arched into him. The way he moved inside her was almost unbearable, his pace so slow, so deliberate, like he was trying to stretch every second into an eternity. She could feel every inch of him, every breath, every heartbeat, and it was too much and not enough all at once.
“Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I can’t...” She trailed off, her words dissolving into a broken moan as he pressed deeper, his hips rolling against hers in a way that made her body sing. “God, you’re... you’re so good to me... so good.”
He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “And you’re... fucking amazing,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers, and she could see the way he was holding himself back—how careful, how deliberate he was being. His hands slid down to her hips, his fingers gripping her tightly as he pulled her closer, his thrusts still slow, still deep.
Her breath hitched, her chest tightening with how much she loved him. She could feel the tears building again, her eyes stinging as she looked up at him. “I can’t believe this is real,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t believe we’re... here... like this...”
He smiled, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. “It’s real,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His thumb brushed along her hip bone, his touch so gentle it made her heart ache. “You’re my wife, Y/N. And I’m... God, I’m so in love with you.”
She choked on a sob, her hands reaching up to cup his face. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her palms were warm against his skin, and she could feel the way his breath hitched when he leaned into her touch. She pulled him down for a kiss, her lips soft against his, her heart pounding in her chest.
He kissed her back with a tenderness that made her chest ache, his thrusts never faltering. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She could feel the way his body trembled against hers, the way his breath came in shaky gasps. But he was still so careful, so slow, as if he was scared of breaking her.
“You feel... incredible,” he whispered, his voice trembling. His hips moved faster, his thrusts deeper, and she could feel the tension building inside her. She was so close, so close, and she could see it in his eyes too—the way he was struggling to hold on.
“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his curls as she pulled him closer. “I’m so close... please...”
He moaned low in his throat, his thrusts quickening just enough to send her over the edge. “Come with me,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Please, Y/N... come with me.”
And she did. Her body shattered as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, her nails digging into his skin, her lips parting in a silent scream. She could feel him tense above her, hear his sharp intake of breath as he climaxed too, his body shuddering against hers. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as they rode out the waves together.
When it was over, when the world had righted itself again, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She could feel the way his heart raced against her chest, hear the way his breath came in shaky gasps. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment before he finally spoke.
“You’re my wife,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “My wife.” She could hear the smile in his voice, the way the weight of it seemed to settle over him. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything.”
She smiled, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her face into his chest. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. His arms tightened around her, and she could feel the way his body relaxed against hers. She sighed contentedly, her heart still racing as he pressed another soft kiss to her hair.
His hand brushed over her back, his fingertips grazing her skin as he tangled his legs with hers. “Sleep,” he said softly, his voice warm and filled with tenderness. “We’ve got forever, you and me.” She nodded, her eyes closing as a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. His arms tightened around her, and within moments, everything melted away in the quiet comfort of the night.
♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!
♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe
♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy
Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.
The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.
As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.
The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.
Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.
You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.
You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.
"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.
Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.
A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.
His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.
Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"
That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.
"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.
"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.
Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.
You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"
He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"
"What? No he didn't?"
"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.
"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.
Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"
"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."
Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.
"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.
"So are you going to ask him out later?"
You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"
He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.
"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."
"But-"
"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.
When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.
Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.
Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"
Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.
"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.
"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.
"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.
"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.
"U-uh I don't know...."
"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"
The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"
Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.
Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.
You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"
You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.
"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.
Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.
Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"
Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"
You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.
"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"
You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"
"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.
You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.
"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.
"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.
"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.
"You have to be joking!"
He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.
He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"
Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.
He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"
"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.
He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"
You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.
Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.
He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"
Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."
Hi lovelies! I’ve been waiting to give this one shot to you. Snowed in at the cabin is something I’ve always loved the idea of, and I hope this can make it something you dream of too.
Check out our Patreon for early access and 230+ exclusive writings and series.
WC- 4.6k
Warnings- loss of power, unprotected sex, creampie, slight size kink
It had seemed like a good idea, heading to the cabin for the weekend. It was supposed to snow a little, Harry had a stressful week at work and Y/N had no plans. The cabin in the mountains was one of their favorite weekend getaways, but it wasn’t lost on Harry that he needed to make some adjustments. They’d only gotten it 2 years prior and he knew he’d needed to do some work on it, but every time they went it was inevitable that they got distracted enough that he’d push it off to the ‘next time’. This time, however; he knew that he was not going to be able to do that.
They’d noticed the first flicker when the winds started to pick up. He’d resolved himself to know they’d be snowed in this weekend, but he was starting to regret not getting the generator from their house the more gusts of wind started to make the lights flicker. It was only a matter of time.
As they sat on the sofa waiting for the cookies to bake, he heard a snap from outside and it was over. The power at the cabin flickered one last time and died, plunging them into darkness.
It was pointless to go out there and check. He could see from the windows how hard the snow was coming down. It was a tomorrow sort of problem… but he couldn’t deny that it was going to mean a far less comfortable night. Harry cursed under his breath, not liking the cold that was quickly settling in. He wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close as he sat down on the couch from his observation outside the window. "Fuck, it's cold." he grumbled, his teeth chattering slightly.
"Come ‘ere," he mumbled, burrowing his face into her neck and wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "You're like a human heater." he complained, his breath warm against her skin. He nuzzled closer, trying to absorb her warmth like a cat. "Think we should jus’ stay like this until the power comes back on."
Y/N giggled softly, curling into his embrace as she felt his body pressing against hers in the darkness. "Well, aren't you resourceful?" she teased, running her fingers through his hair to soothe him. "Using me as your personal space heater now." His playful groan against her neck made her smile widen. "You were the genius who thought baking cookies in a cabin with questionable wiring was a good idea," she quipped, pulling the blanket over them.
"Sure, of course. Blame my brilliant mind for underestimating the cabin's electrical system and the winds it can withstand." he mumbled into her neck. "At least we can at least attempt to keep warm now," he purred, letting his lips brush over her collarbone. "And you smell like vanilla and whatever else you put in the cookies, which is making the this whole thing much more bearable." He shifted slightly, his leg throwing over hers to entwine them together. That wasn’t enough, though.
As they huddled together on the couch, the room grew noticeably colder by the minute. His large hands splayed out on her stomach, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of her warmth as possible. "Damn it, why is it getting colder?" he complained, his breath washing over her throat. "I need more of your heat." he grumbled, his body shifting until she was practically sitting on top of his lap.
"Come on, closer," he insisted playfully, adjusting his position to make her more comfortable atop his lap, splaying the blanket over her shoulders to make a little cocoon for them, leaving their head and neck out. "This is like... the best worst situation ever.” He muttered against her skin, pressing small kisses along her neck to distract himself. "Being forced to hold you this close in the dark." His hands moved slowly up and down her back in comforting strokes. "Though I'm definitely not complaining about the cuddles." He nipped softly at her earlobe, making her shiver.
Y/N let out a soft sigh, squirming slightly in his lap as she felt his teeth on her. "You're such a flirt, even when you're cold and grumpy." she accused, tilting her head to give him better access. "And for the record, I'm not complaining either." Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. "This is kind of cozy, isn't it? Being stuck in here with you."
"Cozy is an understatement." he agreed, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her up against him. "I'm starting t’think the power going out was a blessing in disguise," he joked, his fingers splaying out on her lower back. "Who needs lights when I have you glowing like a little human heater in my arms?" He chuckled, the sound rumbling against her.
"You're...warm. Warmer than the fireplace I was counting on." Her laughter was soft, breathy as she sunk into the body head they shared. "You think our cookies are okay?" she asked, pressing a gentle kiss just below his jawline, making him shiver. "Or have they gone completely hard in the cold?"
Her voice held a playful innuendo that made him smirk in the darkness. "Not as hard as I am right now..."
“Oh trust me, I can feel how hard you are.” It had taken her by surprise to feel him against her but she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. “Though I will say I much prefer your type of hard.”
Harry's breath hitched at her playful words, his body reacting instantly to the innuendo. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me." he grumbled. "Let's just say the cookies aren't the only thing getting hard in this cold, but at least mine can be useful.." He leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire and affection into it.
"I swear, if the power doesn't come back on soon, I might just have to warm you up in other ways," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky. His hands slid down to grip her thighs, squeezing gently as he pulled her core flush against him. "Though I have to admit, I'm kind of enjoying this forced intimacy too much." He nipped at her bottom lip, grinning in the darkness as she pouted against his mouth.
"Oh?" She questioned softly against his lips, her heart picking up. "And what exactly are these... other ways?" Her voice was breathy with anticipation, one hand sliding up his chest while the other remained wrapped around his neck. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her touch, matching her own rapid rhythm. The darkness seemed to fuel her courage, and she shifted slightly in his lap, making his breath hitch audibly. "Maybe I'd like to find out.”
"Jesus Christ, you little minx." Harry whispered, his grip on her thighs tightening as he pulled her even closer. His lips moved to her neck, trailing hot kisses as he breathed against her skin, "You're playing with fire, love." The irony of that sentence was not lost on him. One hand moved up to cup her face while the other stayed firmly on her thigh, his thumb tracing small circles. "Are you sure you want me to show you?" His voice was hoarse with desire, his control hanging by a thread in the dark intensity of the moment. "Because once I start… m’not sure I'll be able to stop." he finished, his words a low rumble against her throat. He dragged his lips along her collarbone, the scrape of his stubble leaving tingling trails on her skin. His hand on her thigh inched upward, fingers slipping teasingly beneath the hem of her shirt. "S’that what you want, sweet girl?" he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "For me to touch you in the dark?"
Y/N arched into his touch, a breathless moan escaping her lips at the feel of his fingers slipping beneath her shirt. "Yes," She breathed out, the word barely audible in the charged air between them. "I want all of you, Harry. Every inch." Her nails raked lightly down his back as she clung to him, her body trembling not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming need coursing through her veins. "Show me, baby.” She challenged, her voice trembling ever so slightly with need. "Touch me."
He groaned, the sound vibrating against her as his hands finally pushed her shirt up to bunch around her waist. His fingers splayed out on her bare stomach, inching upward slowly. "You're asking for trouble." The man warned, her breath hitching as his hands reached the underside of her breasts before going down, fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her belly.
Y/N's back arched as his fingers slipped inside to brush against her lace underwear, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel herself growing wet, her cunt aching as she realized just how much she actually needed this. "I want it. Don’t care if it’s trouble." she whispered back, hands fisting in his hair as she pulled his mouth back to hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.
He swallowed her whimpers as his fingers finally hooked into the waistband of her leggings and slowly, slowly pulled them down. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jaw as his hands worked to remove it. "Lift f’me." he whispered, his anticipation growing. "Please, baby." She took the direction well- just like she always did. His fingers curled around her thighs, helping to lift her legs as he slowly peeled her leggings and underwear off, leaving her bottom half bare in his arms. Pulling the blanket back over them, he placed another delicate kiss to her lips, letting them stick for a moment. “Need t’keep the shirt on. it’s too cold for you to be fully naked… what a shame.”
One hand cupped her over her pussy, his middle finger slowly sliding through her wet folds making her gasp loudly. "Fuck you're wet." he whispered in awe, his voice thick with desire as he began to stroke her gently. "Soaked through just from my touch... my girl wants it bad, doesn't she?" The cool air of the cabin contrasted sharply with the heat between her legs as his fingers explored her. “God, you're gorgeous like this, all hot n’ready for me, even in the freezing cold." He licked a his lips before capturing hers in another searing kiss, swallowing her moan as his fingers circled her clit deliberately. "I could keep you warm all night long, couldn't I?"
Y/N nodded, clutching onto his shoulders as her hips moved slightly. He could touch her the whole night and she’d happily preen and melt into him. Harry had the handbook to how to make her feel good, and she wasn’t going to deny him. She didn’t want to.
"Mmm, that's what you needed. Go ahead n’make yourself feel good.” he praised, his fingers moving in teasing circles over her clit as she rocked against him. "Use me, take what you need." His other hand slid under her shirt, cupping her breast as he took her mouth in deep kisses. He could feel her body trembling with need, her hips moving more urgently against his fingers.
Just being touched like this was making her hot. No power and snowstorm be damned, she knew at the end of this she was going to be a sweaty mess. She always was.
"Fuck, you're driving me crazy, baby. Jus’ like you always do." He sighed against her lips, his fingers picking up speed over her clit. Her wetness coated his digits, making the motion slick and addictive. "I can feel how badly you need me." He pinched her nipple through the fabric of her shirt, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her cunt. His cock throbbed insistently against her thigh, reminding her of his own desperate arousal. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."
"Want you inside me, Harry," the girl breathed out, her voice shaking slightly as he slipped a finger inside of her. "I need your cock, please. I need you to fuck me, fill me up, make me forget about the cold and the darkness." Her hips rocked against his hand again, seeking friction. She gasped as he pulled his finger out, her pussy clenching desperately around nothing.
"This what you want, Y/N?" He teased, his tip brushing against her through the thin sweatpants. "My thick, hard cock stretching you out, filling you up completely?" He paused, his voice a dark hum that warmed her bones. "Ask me again.”
"Please, baby…" she whimpered as she felt him pressing against her. "Fuck me. I need your cock to warm me up. Please just put it in me." Her hips rolled, trying to push herself onto his length. "M’so cold.”
He crooned, a low rumble in his chest. "Cold, huh? Let me see if I can heat you up." With a swift motion, he pulled his throbbing cock out of his sweats, letting it spring free. The head was already slick with precum, pulsing with need for her as he positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip teasingly through her wet folds. "This better, sweetheart?" His voice was playful, but there was a desperate edge to it, mirroring his arousal.
"Mhm…" She sighed in relief, arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she needed him. She was needy, cold and horny now, her pussy clenching around nothing. He always managed to work her up from 0 to 100. "Just fuck me, Harry. I can take it." Her teeth grazed against his ear as she spoke, her body seeming him out. "Please?" She rocked her hips against him, trying to push his cock inside her aching cunt on her own.
He let out a hiss in pleasure as the tip of his cock caught on her entrance, the warmth and wetness enveloping just the head. "Fuck, tiny little cunt. Shouldn’t be able t’fit, but we’ll make it. Won’t we?" He cooed, his hips jerking forward slightly, pushing the tip inside her. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he began to slowly slide deeper. "So fucking tight and wet for me." He bottomed out with a satisfied grunt, his balls pressing against her ass.
"God, you’re always so incredible," he breathed out, his hands sliding around to grip her ass as they both adjusted to her pussy being fully sheathed inside her. "Taking me so deep like this... fuck, you're perfect." His voice was ragged with desire as he slowly pulled back before thrusting in again, establishing a steady rhythm. The darkness enhanced every sensation - the tightness of her pussy around his cock, the scent of her arousal, the way she clung to him for warmth.
He began to move inside her with slow, deep thrusts, his large hands holding her in place as he kept his cock buried inside her warm, wet cunt. Dripping just for him. It amazed him each and every time, how she was tailor made just for him. "Gonna keep you warm, baby," he muttered against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Gonna keep you wrapped up in my arms and my cock all night long." He picked up the pace slightly, his hips hitching forward to bury himself inside her with a soft grunt each time. "Fuck, you're so warm... so fucking warm. This is how you’re gonna keep me warm. With this perfect pussy.”
She whimpered and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she felt every twitch of his cock as he kept himself deep inside her for a moment after every thrust. "Fuck I... Harry.” She bleated, her breath hitching as he filled her up completely. "You fuck me so good. More... more." she begged, her body starting to shake less from cold and more from the building heat between them. "S’working... you're warming me up." She nuzzled into his neck, the labored breaths washing over his skin.
"Mmm, that's right m’love." he groaned, feeling her tighten around him. "I'll keep you warm up all night long." His thrusts grew stronger, more urgent, his hips slapping against hers in the darkness. "God, I love how you squeeze me, baby..." He nipped at her earlobe, tongue tracing the shell. "Think I need t’keep my cock in you all night. What do you think?”
"Yes." she gasped, as he fucked up into her. "Keep it in me all night, please. Don't ever take it out." Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him close as she rocked her hips to meet his thrusts. "I need it, Harry. I need your cock inside me all the time." She moaned loudly, her voice echoing in the silent cabin as he continued to fuck her hard and fast, his thick length stretching her open with every push.
As they moved together, the blanket gradually slipped lower, revealing her little sleep tee and the swells of her breasts beneath it. He could feel the cool air kissing their skin, making him groan. There was something about the contrasts of hot skin and cool air that drove him mad. "Blanket's falling," he murmured, his fingers curling around her shoulder to keep it in place. "Should I let it drop?" He punctuated his question with a deep, rolling thrust that made her whimper and cling to him tighter.
"Okay, my sweet girl. Let me see you then." he purred as she nodded eagerly beneath him. The blanket fell away completely, pooled around their waists as he continued to thrust into her. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Keep grinding on me. Make sure t’keep my cock nice and warm for me, sweetheart." His breath was hot against the damp material, lips curling into a smirk as he felt a shudder run through her at the tease.
He latched onto one stiff peak through the cotton of her shirt, sucking hard as he continued to feel his cock sink her. She let out a high-pitched whine, her body bouncing shallowly on his lap as he ravished her sensitive nipples. The wet fabric clung to her skin, going almost transparent to show the circles of her areolas. "So fucking hot," he mumbled against her breast, popping off to pay equal attention to its twin. His large hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly to meet his thrusts.
She could feel his thick shaft throbbing inside her as she bounced on his lap, the sensation making her slightly dizzy. Her pussy clenched around him rhythmically, dripping onto his cock and balls with each movement. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking filled the cabin, driving them both insane. It was filthy, it always was, but that’s what she liked about it. "Fuck, can you feel that?" He groaned, feeling her slick walls engulfing him. "Your pussy's leaking all over me, Y/N. So goddamn wet and messy."
His cock pulsed inside her dripping cunt, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. He loved how her cream coated him, making his thrusts slick and effortless. "That's it, baby, squeeze my cock." He encouraged through gritted teeth, his hips snapping up to meet her bounces. "Gonna fuck this perfect pussy all night long until you're soaked in cum and sweat." He leaned in, capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss, swallowing her moans as he pounded into her relentlessly.
She was a mess on his lap, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face, her shirt riding up to bunch up with its wet patches on her nipples, and her bare thighs trembling as she bounced on his fat cock. "Harry... Harry," she panted, her voice hoarse and broken as he continued to slam into her. "I can’t.”
He knew her well enough to hear the tone of her voice, notice her legs quaking and her bounces growing less enthusiastic. With a soft coo, he wrapped his arms around her and stood up, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Oh, my sweet baby. Legs giving out on me?" That was something he could easily take care of, laying her down on her back and settling between her spread thighs. "Don't worry, I'll do the work now. You just lay there n’let me keep you warm."
Laying half on top of her, his arm wrapped around her to keep her tucked beneath him as he continued to fuck her. His chest pressed against her tits, his lips against her temple as he buried his face in her hair. The warmth of his body enveloped her, making her shiver with relief as he kept her covered and protected from the cold. His hips never slowed, his thick cock pounding into her relentlessly as he fucked her into the couch.
"There we are. That’s what m’girl needed, hm? Just needed me close, all the way inside you." he murmured against her temple as her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. The new angle let him hit her perfectly, making her gasp and claw at his back. "Let me get that spot. Know just what you need." His weight pressed down on her, trapping her beneath him as he fucked her. One hand slid under her ass, tilting her hips to change the angle and make each thrust maximize her pleasure.
She was lost in a haze of warmth and pleasure, her legs locked around Harry's hips as he fucked her into the couch. Her arms wrapped around his back, clinging to him as he pressed her into the cushions with each thrust. "Oh my god." she whimpered, her voice muffled against his shoulder as she buried her face in his neck. "You’re keeping me so warm... don't stop, please don't stop..." Her body was jostled with each impact, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his thick length.
She was close to the edge. He knew it so well. It was in everything he could feel her walls fluttering around his cock, her breath hitching in her throat, and her fingers digging into his back. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged. "You're so close, I can feel it. Cum f’me, let me feel you fall apart on my cock." His hips moved faster, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased her orgasm. "Squeeze me, Y/N. Milk my cock with that tight little cunt."
Her entire body tensed, her back arching off the couch as she teetered on the edge. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as she fought to hold back the impending orgasm. Her pussy was a vice around his cock, clenching and unclenching rhythmically as she struggled to contain the building pressure. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her legs tightened around his hips, trying to keep him buried inside her as the climax threatened to consume her. It was too good- Y/N didn’t want it to end.
Harry knew all about it. "Let go for me, love... let go and feel me fill you up," he whispered urgent against her lips. "I wanna feel your sweet cunt milk every drop from my cock," he growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful. One hand slid between them to firmly press on her clit, pushing her over the edge. "Come on, baby... cum all over my cock," he encouraged hoarsely, his own release building in his balls. "Want to feel you dripping with my cum.”
Her body never disobeyed him. He owned her in ways no one else ever had, and it was exactly why his permission had her falling over the edge, her vision blurring as the orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, clamping down as she came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, each contraction milking his dick and forcing him deeper. Harry grunted, his hips jerking as he struggled to hold back his own climax. He rubbed her clit firmly, prolonging her orgasm as he fucked her through it, getting every drop of her pleasure.
"Oh fuck, Harry... please fill me up." she begged, her voice cracking with desperation. High off her orgasm and the need to make sure he was pleasured to, she needed it to feel complete. The feel of him throbbing inside of her was all the confirmation he needed. "I need your cum inside me... I need to feel you leaking out of me all night." She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, using her heels to push him deeper. "Cum. Cum in me. I need to feel it."
"Fuck!" He hissed, finally losing control. She was pleasured, she was comfortable, and he knew he could give in to his need. His cock swelled and he began to cum, pumping his hot seed deep into her. Right where it belonged. "Take it all, baby... take every fucking drop- fuck, I love you." He grunted, his hips jerking as he filled her completely. Harry could feel his cum leaking out around his still-pulsating shaft, creating an sticky, wet mess between them- his favorite. "God, you look so gorgeous like this... full of me."
She lay there, her eyes closed in bliss, a soft smile on her lips as she basked in the satisfaction of being filled with him. Her body felt heavy and relaxed, her mind drifting in a haze of contentment. She felt a little dribble of his cum escaping her full pussy, trailing down her thigh as she lay there, surrounded by him but it didn’t bother her. Harry was everywhere. Inside her, around her, on top of her… everywhere she always wanted him to be.
He gently kissed over her face, his lips brushing against her forehead, cheeks, and mouth in a tender, loving caress. This was what she deserved. Everything he could offer.. Once he was satisfied she was calm and comfortable, he tugged the blanket back over them, wrapping her up in his arms and his warmth.
He gazed down at her with a playful smirk, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. Perhaps he’d gone overboard considering how she was now covered in a light sheen of sweat, but he loved the view. The feeling. Everything about her. "So, think I managed t’keep you warm enough?" His voice was soft, tinged with amusement. The blanket cocooned them, trapping their combined heat, wanting to ensure she wouldn't feel even the slightest chill. "Warmer than the cabin fire, surely?" He quirked an eyebrow, awaiting her response with an expectant grin.
He really could be a little shit sometimes.
She rolled her eyes playfully, snuggling deeper into his arms with a contented sigh. "Much warmer, you idiot. Almost too warm now.” She teased, fanning herself dramatically. "Guess we'll just have to endure being wrapped up in our sexy little blanket for the rest of the night." Her eyes tinged with trouble as she gazed up at him, her swollen lips curving into a sultry smirk. "Think you can handle keeping me this warm all night?"
"Oh, I think I'm more than up for the challenge, gorgeous girl." he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth. “Think the storm isn’t going to end until the morning. We’ve got plenty of time to spend.”
Summary: the guy who just moved in next door invited Y/N over for coffee and she saw a sex toy. Him hearing her touch herself later that day evolves into phone sex
Warnings: swearing, female and male masturbation, fingering, phone sex, guided masturbation, mentions of reader hearing moans from Harry’s apartment while he hooks up with someone, I think like a tiny bit of swearing?
The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment as Y/N set two steaming mugs on the table near the window. Across from her, Clara perched eagerly on a chair, her fingers drumming against the ceramic mug in her hands.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to deliver life-changing news.
Y/N arched a brow. “What? Did someone steal your parking spot again?”
Clara shook her head, a grin already tugging at her lips. “No, it’s way better. I was coming up the stairs earlier, and guess who I saw?”
“Unless it’s Freddie Mercury, I’m not guessing,” Y/N replied dryly, taking a sip from her cup.
“A man,” Clara said, her grin growing wider. “A hot man. Like, ridiculously hot. And he was moving boxes into the apartment right next to yours.”
That got Y/N’s attention. She straightened slightly, setting her cup down. “The apartment next door? The one that’s been empty like…forever?”
“Exactly!” Clara practically squealed. “And let me just tell you, this guy is no ordinary neighbor. He’s tall, has this messy, curly hair, and..oh my God—he was wearing a sleeveless shirt while carrying all those boxes. His arms, Y/N. His arms. I swear they look like they belong in a museum.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, though a flicker of curiosity was in her. “Sounds like someone’s trying to show off.”
“Um, if you had arms like that, wouldn’t you?” Clara quipped. “He’s a walking thirst trap, I’m telling you. You should bake him cookies or something, just so I have an excuse to come back and see him again.”
“Yeah right,” Y/N scoffed. “The last thing I need is to deal with a cocky neighbor who probably spends more time flexing in mirrors than unpacking his boxes.”
Clara snorted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t write him off just yet. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s sweet? Or mysterious? Or—”
“Or obnoxious,” Y/N interrupted. “Or loud. Or the kind of guy who blasts terrible music at all hours.”
“Or the kind of guy who’s so hot you won’t care,” Clara shot back.
Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “Let’s just hope he keeps to himself and doesn’t cause any trouble.”
Y/N was halfway through folding laundry on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the clock—7:30 p.m. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Clara had left hours ago, and most of her neighbors preferred to keep to themselves.
She padded over to the door and opened it. There he was.
The first thing she noticed was the curls—a messy tumble of dark brown waves that framed his face just right. Then her eyes caught on the white T-shirt stretched across his chest and the tattoos that peeked out along his arms, ink twisting down his skin like art in motion. He had a lazy, easy smile, the kind that could disarm anyone without trying.
“Hey,” he said, his voice warm, slightly raspy. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Harry—just moved in next door.”
Y/N blinked, forcing herself to recover. Of course, he’s stupidly attractive, she thought, Clara’s earlier words ringing in her ears.
“Oh,” she said quickly, gripping the edge of the door. “Hi. Welcome, I guess.”
His smile widened a bit, his dimples appearing. “Thanks. Umm, I hate to be that guy, but do you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow? I can’t find mine in all the boxes, and my bookshelf is dangerously close to collapsing on me.”
She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to prolong this interaction. But then she caught the faintest trace of hope in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d help. That, and the hint of an accent lacing his words, made it hard to say no.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got one. Hold on a second.”
She left the door slightly ajar as she went to the kitchen drawer, rummaging around until she found the toolkit. When she came back, Harry was leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
“Here,” she said, holding out the screwdriver. “You can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”
He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks. Lifesaver.” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Y/N,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.
“Well, Y/N,” he said, his smile turning just a touch more charming. “I owe you one. First favor in the books already. You’re making it hard for me to be a bad neighbor.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as she tried to suppress it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”
He grinned, taking a step back toward his door. “I guess we’ll see. Thanks again, Y/N.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing in the doorway with a slight flush creeping up her neck and an unfamiliar warmth buzzing in her chest.
A month later, the café was buzzing with quiet chatter as Y/N stirred her iced coffee, the clinking of the ice against the glass the only sound between her and Clara for the moment. Across the small table, Clara was mid-bite of her sandwich, but the look in her eyes told Y/N she was just waiting for the right moment to drop something.
“What?” Y/N finally asked, narrowing her eyes.
Clara grinned, swallowing quickly before leaning forward. “Nothing. Just…how are things with your very hot neighbor?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, though she felt the faintest blush creep up her neck. “They’re fine. He borrowed a screwdriver the other day. That’s the extent of our interactions.”
She smiles, “Well when I pulled into the lot, your new neighbor..Harry, right? He was coming back from a run.”
Y/N looked up, her fork hovering in the air. “A run?”
“Uh-huh,” Clara confirmed, grinning now. “And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. He was wearing these black running shorts and a tank top, and he was like, glistening in all the right places. I swear it was like watching one of those slow-motion workout montages in a movie.”
Y/N groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Clara.”
“What?” Clara said innocently, though the glint in her eye betrayed her. “I’m just saying, the man has no business looking like that while casually jogging. And he looked so…relaxed about it, like he didn’t even realize every living being with eyes was staring at him.”
Y/N took a sip of her iced coffee, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”
“Oh, am I?” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The guy looks like he walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. How are you living next door to that and still functioning?”
“He’s just being neighborly.”
“Neighborly, my ass,” Clara said with a snort. “If he comes knocking again, you better invite him in for more than a tool. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Clara!” Y/N yelled.
“What?” Clara said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just looking out for you. If I had a neighbor like that, I wouldn’t waste a second.”
Shaking her head, Y/N stabbed at her meal, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Clara’s words lingered, teasing at the edges of her thoughts.
Because as much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Harry that made her wonder just how long she could keep pretending not to notice.
Lunch wrapped up soon with banter, but as the pair strolled back toward Y/N’s apartment, Clara looped her arm through Y/N’s, still buzzing with energy.
“So,” Clara said, bumping her shoulder. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go home yet.”
Y/N smiled, unlocking the door to the building and holding it open for Clara. “What are you saying? You want to stick around and steal all my food again?”
“Obviously,” Clara replied with a grin. “Your popcorn is better than mine, and you know it. Besides, it’s been ages since we had a proper movie night. You’ve been sooo busy.”
Y/N rolled her eyes as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ve barely been busy. You’re just dramatic.”
“Whatever you say,” Clara said breezily. “So…movies? Wine? Popcorn?”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But you’re in charge of picking the movies this time. If I pick, you’ll just complain the whole time and then end up watching them anyway.”
They reached Y/N’s apartment, and as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just don’t pick anything sappy, alright? I’m not in the mood for tearjerkers.”
She opened the cabinet where she kept the popcorn. “Butter or kettle corn?”
“Both,” Clara said, plopping onto the couch and grabbing a pillow. “Oh, and maybe I’ll grab a blanket in case it gets cold. Can’t be too prepared.”
Y/N smiled. Clara’s energy was infectious, and as much as she liked having her space, she was glad for the company.
“Alright, movie marathon it is,” Y/N said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.
As the familiar hum of the TV filled the room and the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite Clara’s endless teasing, she was glad for the distraction.
Soon Y/N and Clara were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls of popcorn and half-finished glasses of wine. The action movie Clara had insisted on watching blared from the speakers, explosions and dramatic one-liners filling the space.
Y/N shifted under her blanket, stifling a yawn, when Clara suddenly sat up straighter, her head tilting to the side.
“Wait,” Clara said, holding up a hand to shush Y/N.
“What?” Y/N asked, frowning as she paused mid-sip of her wine.
Clara’s eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Do you hear that?”
Y/N froze, listening. For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the movie. But then, faintly, she heard it—a muffled rhythm, like the creak of a bedframe, punctuated by soft, indistinct noises.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”
Clara’s mouth dropped open, and she slapped a hand over it to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning toward Y/N. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Shh!” Y/N hissed. Clara ignored her, pointing toward the wall that separated Y/N’s apartment from Harry’s. “It’s coming from his place, isn’t it? Your neighbor?”
“I don’t know,” Y/N muttered, gripping her glass a little too tightly.
But Clara wasn’t letting it go. She reached for the remote, pausing the movie mid-explosion. The silence that followed was deafening, except it wasn’t really silent at all. The noises became clearer without the distraction of the TV, and there was no mistaking it now. A low, breathy moan filtered through the thin walls, followed by another creak of the bed.
Clara gasped, her eyes wide with delight. “It is him!” she whispered dramatically.
“Do you think it’s…like, a one-time thing?” Clara whispered, barely able to keep a straight face.
“I don’t want to think about it at all,” Y/N whispered back, sinking deeper into the couch and covering her ears.
Clara grinned, clearly reveling in Y/N’s discomfort. “I mean, hey, at least you know he’s good at something. Not that you’ll ever find out, of course.”
Y/N grabbed a throw pillow and smacked Clara with it, eliciting a loud laugh. “Shut up!”
The next morning, Clara had left at about 9 AM and now Y/N had just settled on the couch with a mug of coffee when a knock at the door startled her. Setting the mug down, she padded over to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was standing there. Harry.
He was leaning against the doorframe, holding her screwdriver in one hand. His curls were disheveled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, but somehow he still managed to pull it off in a way that was unfairly attractive.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it much yet. “Thought I’d return this before I forgot.”
“Oh, thanks,” Y/N said, taking the screwdriver from him. She hesitated for a second, her eyes scanning his face. “You okay? You look… tired.”
He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you could say that. Had a bit of a rough night.”
She leaned against the doorframe, curious despite herself. “Oh? Something happen?”
Harry hesitated, his lips twitching in what might’ve been embarrassment or amusement. “Let’s just say I had one too many drinks… and some questionable company.”
Y/N blinked, her stomach doing a strange little flip. “Oh.”
He gave a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment. Went out to blow off some steam, ended up bringing someone back. She left early this morning, and now I’m regretting pretty much everything about it.”
Y/N tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. It wasn’t her business..he was an adult, and hookups happened. But still, the thought of someone else being with him, hearing those same soft, raspy tones directed at them, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Well,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I guess everyone has those nights, right?”
Harry smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. “Guess so. Just…doesn’t feel great, y’know? She was nice enough, but it was all a bit…empty.”
Y/N tilted her head, surprised by his honesty. There was something raw about the way he said it, like he wasn’t just brushing it off as a joke or a casual story.
Harry chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a tiny flutter through her chest. “Lesson learned,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly my proudest decision. I guess I was just…blowing off steam, y’know?”
Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Rough week?”
He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that. Moving’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and… I don’t know. I guess I’m still getting used to being here. New city, new place, no familiar faces. It’s a bit… lonely.”
Her expression softened. “I get that. Moving can be tough. When I first moved here, I didn’t know anyone either. It took me ages to feel like this place was actually home.”
He smiled faintly. “Yeah? What changed?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just…let myself settle in. Met a few people, got into a routine. Eventually, it started to feel right.” She paused, feeling a pang of sympathy. “You’ll get there. It just takes time.”
Harry’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier, more intimate. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Anyway, you should probably get some coffee if you’re running on no sleep. It might help.”
He smirked, tilting his head. “You offering?”
She managed to keep her voice steady. “Sure, if you don’t mind instant coffee and a very stubborn coffee machine.”
Harry laughed softly. “Instant coffee sounds like heaven right now.”
“Well, come in then,” she said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “It’s the least I can do after you brought back my screwdriver.”
The apartment was warm and filled with the lingering scent of fresh coffee. Harry glanced around, his gaze landing on the cozy setup in the living room. “Nice place,” he said.
“Thanks,” Y/N replied, heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”
As she fiddled with the coffee machine, Harry leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an easy smile. “You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything? I don’t want to mess up your morning.”
“You’re not interrupting,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “It’s nice to have some company, actually. Most mornings it’s just me and my to-do list.”
Harry chuckled. “Sounds thrilling.”
“Oh, it’s the height of excitement,” she deadpanned, pressing the button on the coffee machine—only for nothing to happen. She frowned, pressing it again. Still nothing.
“Uh-oh,” Harry said, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Yeah definitely not.”
“Is if broken?”
“I think so,”
He smiled softly, “No worries we can go to mine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Besides, I really need that coffee.”
Harry’s apartment felt like stepping into a place that was truly lived in..a home, not just a space. The walls were painted a soft, warm cream, and natural light poured through sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. Potted plants thrived in every corner, adding bursts of green to the room. A woven throw rug lay beneath a large, overstuffed couch that was piled with mismatched cushions, some knitted, others patterned with earthy tones.
The coffee table was a mix of practicality and personality, a stack of books with worn spines, an old mug filled with pens, and a half-melted candle that smelled faintly of cedar and citrus.
In one corner, a record player sat atop a weathered wooden stand, surrounded by a scattering of vinyls leaning casually against the wall. Above it hung a cluster of Polaroid photos strung on twine with tiny wooden clips, each one capturing moments of laughter, travel, and faces Y/N didn’t recognize but instantly envied.
The kitchen blended seamlessly into the living space, its counters lined with signs of use: a ceramic bowl of fruit, a drying rack with a couple of dishes, and a cheerful tea towel hanging over the edge of the sink. The faint scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air as Harry stood at the counter, pouring steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs.
“You’ve got a really cozy place,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she took it all in.
Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small grin. “Thanks. Took me a while to get it feeling right. Guess I’m a sucker for a homey vibe.”
“You nailed it,” she said, her gaze drifting again.
She wandered over to a small shelf tucked beside the couch. It was cluttered in the best way…books stacked horizontally and vertically, a framed photo of what looked like Harry and his family standing on a windswept beach, and a small globe with the paint chipped in a few places. Everything about it felt warm and personal, like every item had a story.
“You can sit if you want,” Harry called out, his voice easy and light. “Promise I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.”
Y/N smiled. “I’m fine. Just…looking.”
She continued her slow circle, her eyes catching on a door slightly ajar at the end of the short hallway. The bedroom, she guessed, though she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem like she was prying.
But then, as her gaze traveled to the other side of the room, something caught her attention.
It was on the floor by the edge of the couch, partially hidden beneath the throw blanket that had slipped off the armrest. At first, she thought it was just a random object—a stray remote or maybe some kind of gadget, but as she stepped a little closer, her stomach flipped.
A sleek, unmistakable shape came into view. It was a vibrator.
Small and simple, but undeniably there, lying just slightly out of place amidst the cozy, domestic warmth of his apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. Had he seen her notice it? Did he even realize it was there?
“You okay over there?” Harry’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see him leaning against the counter, a mug in each hand, his expression amused.
“Fine!” she said quickly, her voice a little higher than usual. She walked toward him, hoping he didn’t notice her awkwardness. “Just…admiring your plant collection. They’re very..healthy.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but too polite to push. “Well, thanks. They get all the credit. I just water them and hope for the best.”
As he handed her a mug, their fingers brushed briefly, and Y/N swore she felt a spark. She took a sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground her as she avoided glancing back toward the couch.
But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the toy was burned into her mind, along with the unwelcome but undeniable thought of Harry using it on someone.
“So,” Harry said, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts, “tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you do for fun when you’re not rescuing broken coffee machines or lending out screwdrivers?”
Y/N forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the pink still dusting her cheeks. “Oh, you know. The usual. Reading, bingeing bad TV, trying to keep my plants alive…” She trailed off, her voice softening as she met his eyes. “Nothing as interesting as this place, though.”
Harry shrugged, his lips quirking up in that easy, lopsided grin. “Guess it depends on your definition of interesting. My life’s not as exciting as it might look.”
Harry followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing in confusion at first. But then his eyes landed on the object partially hidden beneath the blanket on the couch, and his expression changed instantly.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you saw that, didn’t you?”
Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to pretend like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”
“Damn,” Harry said, his voice soft with a mix of awkwardness and apology. He stepped around the counter, closing some of the space between them. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I should’ve—I didn’t know it was just sitting there. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss it. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she desperately wanted to escape the situation before it got any more mortifying. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t—”
“Still,” Harry interrupted, running a hand through his hair. “That’s…not exactly something you want to stumble across when you’re just trying to have a cup of coffee.”
She laughed nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, Harry. I promise.”
For a moment, he hesitated, his green eyes searching her face like he wasn’t sure if he should drop the subject or keep apologizing. Then he sighed, shaking his head.
“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I swear I’m not like having sex 24/7. It just…happens to be there, and I didn’t think—”
“Harry, seriously,” Y/N cut him off, her voice firmer this time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.”
She glanced toward the door, her heart still racing, and gave him a tight smile. “I should probably get going, though. I’ve, uh, got some stuff to do.”
Harry’s smile faded, and for a second, something flickered in his expression—disappointment, maybe? But he quickly masked it, nodding as he stepped back to give her space.
“Yeah, of course,” he said, his tone light and casual, though it didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Thanks for, you know, not freaking out.”
She smiled faintly, already moving toward the door. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”
He walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets as they reached the threshold.
“Well,” he said, leaning against the frame, “thanks for the company. Even if I managed to completely ruin it.”
Harry tilted his head slightly, his grin returning, though it was smaller this time. “Good to know.”
She hesitated for half a second before giving him a quick wave and slipping out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart still pounding.
Y/N leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her room dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The book she’d been trying to read lay forgotten in her lap, her mind betraying her with images of Harry—standing in his kitchen, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his toned arms, that damn crooked smile on his face.
Her face burned just thinking about him, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the memory of the vibrator on his couch kept flashing in her mind. She bit her lip, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the blanket draped across her lap.
It was reckless, she knew that. But the way he’d looked at her earlier..the way his green eyes had lingered, the way his voice had dipped when he said her name, it had left her feeling more restless than she wanted to admit.
Her hand slid lower, beneath the blanket, her breath catching as her fingers grazed her skin. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fantasy. She pictured him leaning over her, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and teasing as he murmured her name.
“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sound sent a shiver through her body.
On the other side of the wall, Harry froze. Their rooms must be back to back because he could now hear faint moans of Y/N.
He had just stepped out of his shower, towel slung around his hips, when the faint sound reached his ears. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but then it came again, soft, breathless, unmistakable. His name.
From Y/N’s apartment.
He stood there for a moment, completely still, his damp hair dripping onto his bare shoulders as he listened. The sound came again, and this time, there was no mistaking the hushed moan that followed.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.
It wasn’t intentional..he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he’d heard it, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. The wall separating their apartments was thin enough to carry the faintest sounds, and the realization sent heat rushing through his body.
He leaned back against the wall, torn between guilt and an intense, undeniable arousal. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sound of her soft, needy gasps of her whispering his name was doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore.
Inside her apartment, Y/N was oblivious, completely lost in her own world. Her breathing quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she pushed two fingers in and out of her pussy and imagined his hands on her, his lips trailing down her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear as he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.
“Harry,” she whimpered again, her body trembling as she edged closer to cumming.
He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It was crossing a line, stepping into territory they hadn’t even begun to discuss. But the memory of her soft gasps, the thought of her lying in her bed, touching herself while thinking about him…
It was too much.
With a low groan, he grabbed his phone and scrolled to her name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second before he muttered, “fuck it,” and pressed it.
The phone rang once. Twice.
“Harry?” Y/N’s voice was soft, hesitant, and he could hear the slight tremor in it, like she wasn’t sure why he was calling.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was…I’m awake,” she said quickly, though there was something breathless about her tone that told him she hadn’t quite recovered from what she’d been doing.
He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because we need to talk.”
There was a pause, and he could almost feel her tension through the line. “About what?”
“About what I just heard,” he said, his voice dipping lower, more serious.
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Oh my God,” Y/N finally said, her voice barely audible. “You heard that?”
“I did,” Harry admitted, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. “Walls are thin, love.”
She groaned, and he could hear the embarrassment in the sound. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”
“But—”
“Y/N,” he said, cutting her off again. “Listen to me. You don’t need to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not judging you.”
She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line…quick, shallow, and uneven.
“Are you still in bed?” he asked, his voice softening.
“…yes,” she admitted after a moment.
“Good,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Stay there for me.”
“Harry…”
“You were saying my name,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Weren’t you?”
Her breath hitched, and he smiled, knowing he’d caught her.
“I—”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone soothing but commanding. “You don’t have to lie. I liked it, Y/N. Hearing you like that…knowing you were thinking about me…”
Her breathing quickened, and he could almost picture her lying there, her cheeks flushed, her body tense with anticipation.
“Harry,” she said again, her voice a mix of nerves and something else..something needier.
“Let me help you,” he said, his hand drifting down to his cock as he spoke. “Let me show you how good it can feel. Can I do that?”
There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. But then she whispered, “Okay.”
“Good girl,” he said, his voice like velvet. The words sent a thrill through him as much as they did her, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.
“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asked, his tone low and deliberate.
“No,” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly.
“Then start,” he said. “Slide your hand down, just like you were doing before.”
He waited, his own hand slipping below as he imagined her doing exactly what he’d asked.
“Touch your clit,” he murmured, his tone thick with heat. “I want to hear you as you feel the warmth of your own touch.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her body still trembling from the intensity of their conversation. But his voice was like a magnet, drawing her in, and before she knew it, her fingers were moving against her skin, tentative at first, then more sure of themselves as she followed his instructions.
“Good,” Harry whispered, his voice growing rougher. “Now, gently slide your fingers in and out, slowly. Feel every fucking inch.” “Good girl,” he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, Y/N. I can hear how much you’re enjoying this.”
“Now add a third finger for me.”
She did as she was told, she let out a slightly louder moan this time.
“That’s it baby just like that. I know you can handle it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so desperate for my cock would you? How are you gonna take it all for me if you can’t even take three of your own fingers? That would just be pathetic.”
She breathes out as she fingers herself deeper, just trying to forget theyre her own and imagining his ringed ones instead. “Harry..”
“That’s right love just like that,”, he started moving his hand up and down his own cock, holding back moans. “You wanna come over to my apartment tomorrow? So I can actually fuck you good?”
She barely even comprehends what he’s saying with the feeling of being stuffed with three fingers, win the reassurance that soon it would be even more filling than that with his dick. All she can muster is a soft hum of affirmation.
“Yes or no?”
“Y-yeah of course. Just text me what time.”
He sighs, adjusting himself to get more comfortable as he feels the orgasm coming. “I will. I’ll use that same vibrator on you then will you like that?”
“H-”
“And trust me it wasn’t the only thing I have at my house. I have a whole drawer you can have. Pick anything you want out of it tomorrow yeah, baby?”
“Yes Harry, fuck-oh god I’m cumming.”
“Just like that baby.”
Harry almost cums instantly as he hears her moans and then her clamming down afterwards, her breath heavy. And soon enough he does, groaning himself as the hot ropes shoot out of his cock to the towel now underneath him.
After everything settled into quiet, Harry’s voice, still thick with desire, came through once more.
“Good girl,” he murmured, and she could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “You did so well.” His words lingered in her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his praise seeping into her skin.
Y/N’s breath was still uneven as she slowly, hesitantly, lifted her fingers to her lips. “Lick them for me, love,” Harry coaxed, his voice soothing but laced with a hint of command.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, the request sending a shiver down her spine, but the sound of his voice, so commanding yet affectionate, left no room for doubt. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lips, her tongue darting out to meet them, and as she did, a soft gasp left her mouth.
“Good girl,” Harry said, the words slipping out in a near whisper. “So good for me. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
The promise of tomorrow hung in the air between them, leaving her pulse racing, her thoughts swirling with the anticipation of what was to come.
“I’ll make sure we have a good time, baby,” Harry reassured her, his tone still warm and low. “You deserve it. You’re perfect.”
Y/N let out a quiet sigh of contentment, still basking in the afterglow of everything they’d just shared, and though she felt a lingering desire, she could also feel the weight of satisfaction in the quiet moment.
“I should let you go now,” Harry said, his voice now gentle, as if sensing her need to breathe. “But tomorrow, we’ll have all the time we need.”
“Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice lingering in her ear as if he was right there with her. “Sleep well.”
The call ended, leaving Y/N with a soft smile on her lips, her body still buzzing from the connection they’d shared.
happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.
Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.
As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."
The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.
"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.
"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."
"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.
He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."
"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"
"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."
You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."
"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."
"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"
The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.
"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."
"It's barely started!"
"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"
Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."
His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"
"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."
Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"
"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"
You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.
"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."
Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."
"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.
He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."
You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"
"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."
Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."
"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."
You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.
"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."
Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."
Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.
"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.
You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."
With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.
"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.
You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."
"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.
"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."
"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."
You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."
"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."
"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.
"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."
"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️
February, 2024
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username1 WHAT THE HELL
username2 IS THIS A JOKE
taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️
gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕
lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES
niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!
yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.
username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP
username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??
username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING
username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple
username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN
username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭
username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING
username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful
username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC
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