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johnsbleu · 7 months ago

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 173

warnings: dual pov, nsfw moments hmh masterlist

Y/N is always pretty good when it comes to scary movies. Usually she’s walking through the dark house after watching one and she’s completely fine. Not tonight. Maybe it’s because we’re at a different house and not at our home where she knows every nook and cranny, but she’s pretty freaked out. She picked the movie and she’s trying to be so brave, but I can tell she’s scared, which is why I’m staying a little closer to her. If I can make her feel safe, then I’ve done my job.

We decided to sit out on the back deck for a little bit, and she’s looking over her shoulder every few minutes. I reach over and pull her chair closer to me, then I drape my arm over her lap and lean in to kiss her, hoping she feels safer.

“Getting tired?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, we spent so much time in the sun today. I think I’m drained.”

I get up and reach for her hands, then I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder as she laughs. One of these days I’m going to be too old to do that, but it’s not any time soon, so I plan on doing it until my back breaks from old age. I open the sliding door, lock it behind me, then head to the front door and lock that one too. Y/N kicks her legs playfully, so I spank her.

“Stop that.”

“No!” she laughs, so I squeeze right under her butt where I know she’s ticklish. She screams so loud with laughter that I have to put her down so I don’t drop her.

I wrap my arms around her and lean down to kiss her as we walk back to the room, and she reaches down to undo my belt.

“Oh, is this what we’re doing tonight?”

She looks up at me and nods, “No different than the last two nights. I want as much uninterrupted sex as I can get.”

“Sounds good to me.” I whisper as I kiss her, “Really putting that new birth control to work, huh?”

Y/N tilts her head back and laughs loudly, “I’m glad I got the IUD instead of those stupid pills. Though, did you know there was a woman who didn’t realize that her IUD had fallen out and she ended up getting pregnant?”

I slouch a little and let out a big breath as I look at her, “Peach…”

“Sorry,” she laughs quietly, then she starts undoing my belt. I lean down to kiss her neck, and she begins to laugh, “Did I ruin the mood?”

I look at her as she laughs, “No.”

Even though she’s laughing, I lean down and suck on her neck, moving my hand down between her legs and rubbing her over her pajama bottoms. I slip my hand into her underwear, and she immediately stops laughing and lets her head loll back. I lay her down on the bed and pull her pajama bottoms off, along with her underwear, then I kneel down in front of the bed and smirk when she looks up at me as I pull her closer to my mouth, diving in deep for just a moment to give a taste of what to expect.

“You done talking now?” I whisper against her thigh, and she whimpers as she nods. “Good.”

You shoot up in bed when you hear a sound coming from the deck, and you reach over and shake John’s shoulder. He’s completely sound asleep, which yes, is flattering since he literally rolled over after kissing you goodnight, saying he loved you and immediately fell asleep. But now you need him awake right this minute!

“John!” you shake his shoulder, and he hums, “There’s someone outside.”

“No, there isn’t.”

You scoff and shake his shoulder, “Yes, there is. I keep hearing something hit metal.”

“I just got up to pee. There’s no one here.” he rolls over to his right side and pulls you into his arms, “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Wow, thanks for protecting your wife.” you glare at him in the dark even though he can’t see you. “You’ll feel like shit when someone breaks in and murders me.”

John laughs sleepily, “No one is breaking in, peach.”

You sigh loudly and lay down next to him, then you stare up at the ceiling, just waiting for the noise again because you know it’s going to happen. After a few minutes, you finally start to feel your eyes grow heavy, and you start to fall asleep. Just as your eyes close, you hear the noise again and sit up.

“I’m awake!” John groans and sits up. “I heard it too, and after mentioning someone murdering you, I got paranoid.”

You smile softly when he turns on the light, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Stay here.” he rubs his knuckle against his eye and walks out of the bedroom in his boxers with absolutely no fear of what he could find outside--he’d have it handled with no problems. Even in boxers.

God, it’s hot. If you weren’t so scared, you’d definitely go down on him when he comes back into the bedroom. On second thought, you definitely will if there’s nothing outside.

You pull your knees close to your chest and watch the doorway, then you furrow your brow when you hear the noise again and John laughing.

“What? Oh, god, be careful! John! Please be careful. Are you okay? What happened?”

Wow, you’re spiraling.

“Come here, baby.” he calls from the other room, and you immediately get up and rush out to him. He’s still laughing when you get to him, “This is what you’ve been so scared of all night.”

You scrunch your brows and walk over to see what John is pointing at, and you gasp and laugh when you see a small fluffy kitten playing with a string from your towel draped over the chair. Every so often, as it swats at the string, it bumps into the metal of the rain spout. That’s the noise you’ve been hearing all night.

You turn to John and cross your arms, “Told you someone was outside.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” he laughs as he kisses your forehead.

The kitten meows and walks over to rub up against John’s leg, and you grin and look up at John. He takes a deep breath and laughs since he already knows what you’re going to ask.

“Listen to me,” he laughs as you reach down and pick up the fluffy kitten, “If this kitten is here by the morning, we can keep him.”

“He’s hungry, John!”

“We don’t know that.” John laughs, then he gestures to the yard, “Maybe he has a momma around here. We’ve seen a ton of cats since we’ve been here--tons of kittens even!”

You pout a little, “But look at him. He’s so thin. I can feel his ribs.”

“Baby, it’s so late right now.” he closes his eyes, then he looks at you and exhales as a smile spreads on his face when you pout, “I don’t know why I’m fighting this.”

You hold the kitten up in front of John as it meows, “Look at him, he’s so cute.”

“He is pretty cute,” he admits, and you smile.

“I’m keeping him.” you say, happily walking past, and John laughs as he nods. “What are you going to do? Say no to me?”

John shakes his head, “I wouldn’t dream of it. You know I can’t.”

He opens the door for you and locks it when you get inside, then he kisses your cheek and smiles softly as you talk to the kitten.

“What are you going to feed him?”

“I don’t know.” you shrug and open the fridge, “Cats don’t actually drink milk. I’ll give him some water, but…I don’t have anything to feed to him.”

John opens the fridge and holds up the chicken that he had bought at the store earlier to grill out tomorrow, “You could boil this. Give him a little. It’s probably not great, but it’s something. We can go to the store tomorrow and get some food.”

You smile at John and watch him grab a pot and fill it with water before dropping a chicken breast into it. He puts the other chicken breasts away and turns to you, smiling when you lock eyes with him.

“God, you’re so cute. It’s dangerous, I hope you know that.” he says, leaning down to kiss you. “It’s 3 in the morning and I’m in the kitchen boiling chicken for some kitten we just found, and I already know we’re bringing him home.”

“Come on, he’s cute!” you hold him up and smile when he nibbles on your finger, “We can take him to the vet when we get home and make sure he’s okay.”

John nods, “What if he has a momma out there and she’s looking for him?”

“Well, we’re here for a few more days. I’ll ask around.” you get up and snuggle the kitten as you walk to John, “But until then, he stays here.”

“You putting your foot down?” John jokes, and you stomp your foot playfully. “Ronan’s going to be very happy with her birthday present.”

You look at him and laugh, “This isn’t your anniversary gift to me?”

“I mean…it can be!” he laughs, then he shrugs, “My gift is kind of shit anyway.”

You hold the kitten in your right arm tucked close to your chest, then you lean up and kiss John, “You’re a really good man. Now finish boiling that chicken, so we can feed this baby, then…I have a surprise for you.”

John perks up, “What’s that?”

“As long as you aren’t tired…” you back away and seductively wipe your finger against your bottom lip before looking down lower to John’s boxers.

“Lucky for you, I’m fully awake now.” he smiles, and you wink at him.

Since the kitten is pretty small, you didn’t want him to have full range of the house. There’s too much stuff that he could get into, plus he has been outside so you don’t know if he has fleas or not; you didn’t notice any when you were holding him, but you can’t be too safe. You folded up a few towels and made a little bed for him in the bathroom, then you put his water in there with him as well.

You were barely able to contain yourself this morning, so you got up quickly and changed your clothes to go see the little kitten. When you went into the bathroom, he was still sleeping, so you let him be--after checking to make sure he was still alive, of course.

John was in a pretty good mood despite you waking him up at three in the morning, most likely because he got a little bit of a treat before going back to sleep. The two of you went to the store and got some things for the kitten. You bought some food, a few toys, and some shampoo to wash away any possible fleas. John won’t admit it, but he’s excited about the newest family member, and you know he is because he picked out a cute little collar for him.

“Do we even know if it’s a boy?” he asks as you get out of the car.

You shrug, “I couldn’t tell, but I’ll look again. Either way, Baby Cat is going to look so cute in that collar.”

“Are we really going with Baby Cat?”

“Until Ro can name him.” you say as you open the door, “I’m blanking on names at the moment.”

John holds the door open and laughs, “Ro doesn’t know very many words yet.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t name the cat ‘dada’.” you say, and John smiles. “We already have a fish and an actual dada with that name.”

Before you can even drop the bags off at the table, you rush over and open the bathroom door, then you look down as the little kitten prances out into the living room. John kneels down and wiggles his fingers, and the kitten stops and wiggles his little butt before he pounces at John’s hands.

“Ro is going to love this,” John says, and you nod as you sit down on the couch and go through the bag.

The kitten walks over and tries to jump up to the couch, but he barely gets two inches off the ground. You reach down and pick him up, then you take out the toys and offer them to him.

“He’s so tiny,” John says as he sits down, “I wonder if he was the runt, which reminds me, I was going to go talk to the people a few doors down. I saw some cats outside their door.”

You frown a little, “I hope they don’t want him back. Well, I shouldn’t say that. If they want him back and actually want to take care of him, then we’ll give him back, but…”

John leans over and kisses your temple, “I’ll go talk to them.”

“I’m gonna give him a bath, then I’ll get some lunch started for us,” you say as he gets up, and he leans over and kisses you.

“Off to go bribe someone to let us keep their cat.” he says, and you look over your shoulder at him and laugh. “Anything for my girls, though.”

You’ve just sat on the couch with the kitten when you hear the door open. You look down at the kitten with his eyes closed as you take the towel and dry him off, and you melt a little when you hear him purring. John leans down and kisses the top of your head, then he sits with you and smiles when he sees the kitten lying on your chest as you dry him.

“Give me the news.”

John laughs, then he takes a deep breath, “Well, there is a momma cat, but momma cat has been…having lots of kittens lately and is getting fixed soon. So, I talked to them and they said that if we found a kitten, we’re more than welcome to take him.”

Your heart bursts as you sit up, “Really?”

“Yes.” he nods, reaching over to pet the cat, “It’s better that we take him than something bad happening to him. I told them that our daughter would be thrilled--and that my wife would be pretty happy too.”

“We get to keep you!” you say to the kitten, then you kiss him and hug him. Your eyes snap open and you look at John, “New family member!”

John furrows his brow, “Huh?”

“The psychic said we’d have a new family member and that it might not be a baby,” you hold up the kitten and smile at John, “New family member!”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head, “Even more reason to believe her.”

You lean over and kiss him a few times, “It’s a boy, by the way. Found that out while I gave him a bath.”

John laughs, “Can’t wait to see what Ro names him.”

“We might just have to think of something.” you say, and John nods his head, still petting the kitten. You look at John and smile softly, “Thank you for this. I know we talked about getting her a kitten later on when she’s older, but…he kind of fell into our lap.”

Letting out a small laugh, John reaches over and touches your chin, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip, “I would give you anything you ask for. You know that.”

“I don’t ask for anything,” you shake your head and look into his eyes, “I just ask for you to love me.”

“You don’t have to ask me to do that,” he whispers as he leans closer, “Loving you is as easy as breathing.”

You tear up a little and nod, “I feel the same way. I love you so much.”

“I will give you and Ronan anything you ask for. Whatever you want, you can have. You two have me wrapped around your little fingers.” he says, and you lean over to kiss him. He cups your face and kisses you again with a little more intensity, then he looks down at the kitten sleeping on your chest, “Yeah, I get it, little guy, her boobs are great.”

“Shut up!” you laugh as you playfully swat John’s arm. “How did you just go from being so romantic to being…a man?”

John scoots over and rests his head on your chest too, “Ah, so cozy.”

“You’re weird.” you say, and John squeezes your breast a little as you laugh.

“Can I ask something and pray like hell you won’t get upset?”

You look at John when he leans up, “We’re keeping this cat.”

“No, no, it’s not about the cat.” he says as he sits up, then he takes a deep breath, “Have I made you feel…unsexy lately?”

“Unsexy? Is that a word?”

John nods earnestly, “I think so.”

“Okay, well, no, you have not made me feel unsexy. Why?”

John takes another deep breath and shrugs, “You just…don’t ever wear lingerie and I thought maybe I made you feel bad about yourself or something. I just want you to always feel good and feel beautiful, because I think you’re the most beautiful person. If I made you feel bad, I’d want you to tell me. I know you feel good when you wear that stuff, so I just…I don’t know. You can hop in to the conversation at any point here.”

You start to smile before you lean over to kiss him a few times, “I don’t wear that stuff because of you, actually.”

“Oh, god.” John puts his head down for a moment, then looks at you, “Tell me what I did. Please.”

“Well,” you set the kitten aside and turn to face John, “The problem usually is I want to wear that stuff because yes, it does make me feel pretty and sexy, but also I know you like it when I wear it. The problem is…you don’t let me get away from you for long enough to actually change into it. When you want me, you want me that moment, which, hey, I’m flattered, but you just don’t give me time!”

John exhales in relief when you smile at him, “So basically you don’t wear it because I need you right that minute?”

“Literally yes.” you laugh as John closes his eyes. You straddle his waist and sit in his lap, “John, you’ve never made me feel anything but beautiful and sexy. I would love to wear lingerie more, but sometimes we need each other right that minute and that’s okay!”

“Did you bring some with?”

You start to grin as you lean forward to kiss him, “Yes.”

“You should wear it tonight.”

Letting out a small laugh, you nod your head before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “Anything for you.”

You bite into an apple slice and squint out at the sun going down. Baby Cat is lying in your lap right now and snoozing away. He won’t stop following John and you around, so it’s nice that he seems to be fine with being away from his momma. You look down at him and pet him, then you reach for an apple slice just as John does. He gestures for you to take one, then he smiles at you.

“Almost three years, peach.” he whispers, and you smile at him. “Three years since I met you. Can’t believe it.”

“Me neither,” you reach for his hand and kiss the back of it, “You make me really fucking happy, I hope you know that. I hope you know how in love with you I am and how I feel like I can be myself with you, and how safe I feel with you. I know talking about how we feel about each other isn’t an unheard of concept in our relationship--we tell each other how much we admire and love each other all the time--but I just really want to tell you that I am so fucking happy that I met you. You’re the best husband I could have ever asked for, and you’re my best friend. On top of being the best husband, you’re my best friend too, which is the most important thing.”

John cups your face and smiles, “I love you, sweetheart. The love of my life and my best friend, how lucky am I?”

“How lucky are we?” you smile, leaning over to kiss him. “You ever think about how different things would be if it hadn’t been me who brought the mail to your house? You could be living in Manhattan with April in a nice apartment or with Tess.”

“Well, for starters, April is a lesbian, so that’s not happening.” he says, and you laugh quietly. “And two, Tess is in love with my best friend and my best friend is in love with her, so that also won’t work. And finally, I am so madly in love with you. It didn’t matter who brought it over to me. I wanted to talk to you. I would have kept putting shit in your mailbox until you came over.”

You smile, “Or until you worked up the courage to talk to me.”

“Yeah, that too.” he grins, then he squeezes your hand, “Peach, you scared me. You still do. All I wanted was you, and I have you now. I’m never gonna take that for granted. You’re everything to me. Everything that I do, every thought that I have, you’re right there in my mind. Every decision I make, I do with you in mind. I mean it, you are everything to me.”

“That’s what I love so much about you, and I’m sure Helen did too.” you say, and he raises his brows, “When you love, you love with your entire heart. It’s really nice to be on the receiving end of that.”

John scoots closer and wraps his arm around you, “You love with your whole heart too. We were both so timid at first, but once we knew that this was real, we were both all in. I only ever want to be all in with you.”

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you close your eyes and smile, feeling the sun warm your cheeks as it dips lower. John presses a kiss to the top of your head and rests his cheek against your forehead.

Three years with this man already, and it’s flown by. Forever won’t even be long enough. Whatever time you get with him won’t be long enough. You can’t focus on it for too long, otherwise you’ll just be upset, so you open your eyes and inhale deeply.

“Can you believe Ro is going to be one?”

John laughs, “I can’t. How the hell do we have a one year old?”

“No clue,” you shake your head, laughing, “But I will say, she is your freaking twin, and I’m totally cool with it. I know she’s only one, but she has all of your good qualities, I swear. She’s sweet and kind, and she’s somehow so patient too. We’re raising a freaking phenomenal little lady.”

“Well, her momma deserves most of the credit here,” he says, tipping his head to you, “You’re doing a great job with her. I see the way she watches you and mimics you. You’re setting a great example for her, and I’m so happy to know my daughter is going to grow up to be just like her mom.”

You smile, “And her dad. He’s a great role model too; he deserves credit too.”

John laughs as he leans over to kiss you, “We’re doing a good job with her, I think.”

“Me too,” you smile, then you start to laugh, “We really just stroked each other's egos for a few moments. Felt great.”

“Sure did, and I’ll do it again.” John smiles, leaning down to kiss you.

Baby Cat stretches out in your lap, then he crawls over to John and stretches out, reaching his little arm out in front of him. John scoops him up and holds him close to his face, and the kitten reaches out to touch John’s nose. John gives his paw a little kiss, then he sets him down and laughs when he sees you watching him.

You grin, “You love Baby Cat.”

“He’s really cute, but I’m not crazy about the name.”

You laugh, “Well, I can’t think of anything! And he’s not getting the typical cat name like, Shadow, Midnight, Fluffy, and shit like that. Ronan needs to name him.”

“She’s going to be so excited to see her kitten,” John pets the cat and looks at you, “And she’ll be excited to see her momma.”

“And her dada.” you whisper, then you lean over to kiss him, “But momma needs daddy to herself for a few more days.”

John laughs as you push him down into the sand and kiss him, “I’m cool with that.”

“Time to exchange gifts?” you ask, and John laughs as he holds up the gift-wrapped box for you. You point at the two gifts on the table and he furrows his brow in confusion. “One for our anniversary, one for your birthday.”

John sits next to you and laughs, “Remember we weren’t being completely serious with these gifts.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware.” you say, and John nods as he hands the box to you.

You rip along the edge and pull the paper off, then you put it on the floor and smile when Baby Cat immediately pounces on it. John didn’t put too much tape on it, so you don’t have a problem opening the box at all, and you push the tissue paper down and gasp as you hold up the beautiful white and floral robe.

“This is gorgeous,” you rub it against your cheek and smile, “I love this. Thank you!”

John grins, “Cotton.”

“Yeah,” you laugh as you nod, then you lean over to kiss him, “Thank you. You know I love a good robe.”

“I do.” he smiles, watching you grab the box for him. He opens it carefully and tosses the paper down for the kitten, who is in love with the paper and the box from your gift, then John starts to laugh as he holds up the boxers. “Wow.”

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, “Cotton.”

“Yeah, I got that.” he holds them up and starts to laugh even harder at your face printed all over the boxers with ‘MINE’ written in funky letters over the crotch. “Wow, baby, these are…”

“I don’t know! Cotton is such a weird one! All I could think of was blankets and boxers and we don’t need any more blankets, so I just settled on those. I thought you’d think they’re funny.”

John looks down at them, still laughing, “I do think they’re funny. Might even wear them sometime just for you.”

“Oh, can’t wait.” you joke, knowing full well if anyone is wearing them, it’ll be you. You cup his face and kiss him, “Happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary.” he cups the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours harder before you pull away and grab his other gift. It’s just in an envelope, so you already know he’s very curious. He opens the envelope and pulls out two tickets, and he widens his eyes and looks at you, “What?”

You shrug, “Thought you and Jimmy would have a good time. Wherever the World Series is going to be this year, you and Jimmy will be there with the best seats--right behind home base.”

“Well, what if I want to bring you?”

“As much as I love doing anything with you, I think I’m going to sit baseball out, especially the World Series. Bring Jimmy. He’ll have a blast. You both will. Make a weekend of it.” you smile at him, and he lets out a small laugh. “Happy birthday.”

John looks over at you and smiles, “Thank you. This is very thoughtful, though I am a little sad you don’t want to come with.”

“Tess and I just want you and Jimmy out of our hair for a weekend.” you joke, and John laughs. “He loves baseball and you do too. And look, I know that…back when you two became closer, it was because he invited you to watch games with him--it’s how you two bonded.”

“You are so sweet,” he says softly, rubbing your back. “Thank you for this.”

You scoot over and rest against his shoulder, “You’re very welcome. Did I do good this year?”

“Well, last year you gave me a baby, so…” he playfully grimaces and clicks his tongue, “I’m gonna need a little more effort next year.”

“You are absolutely not getting another baby next year.”

John jokingly groans before leaning over to kiss you, “Another pair of boxers will do then.”

John stands next to you at the counter and begins to help you cut up some veggies for a salad. He leans down and kisses your bare shoulder, and he smiles when you look at him.

“I like this tank top on you.” he says, and you start to laugh. “Looks good.”

“I wonder why you like it so much,” you joke, and John glances at your breasts before he starts to laugh. “Yeah, that��s what I thought.”

He puts his hand up, still laughing, “It looks great on you. The fact that I can see your nipples through it is just a bonus. You look…hot.”

“I look ‘hot’?” you set the knife down and turn to him, “You think I’m hot?”

John furrows his brow as he laughs incredulously, “Of course I do! I think you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. You’re sexy!”

You burst out laughing until you’re in tears, “God, please, why is this so funny to me?”

“Because you’re weird. Did our conversation about the lingerie tell you nothing?” John says, looking at you with amusement as you laugh. “Of course I think my wife is sexy. Baby, you have no idea how attracted I am to you.”

“I think I have some idea.” you say, squinting your eyes a little before glancing down at the crotch of his pants. You press your hand to your cheek and laugh, “I’m warm. You’ve embarrassed me!”

John smiles proudly, “You’re so cute. Come here.”

You fall into John’s arms as he laughs, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales your perfume. You close your eyes and smile happily as the two of you hold one another for a few moments before you hear Baby Cat meowing at your feet. You lean back and look at him, and he stretches out before he tries to climb up John’s jeans. John reaches for him and puts him on his shoulder--his new favorite spot to hang out.

It’s actually kind of ridiculous how hot this makes John. He’s already hands down the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and honestly he’s just getting better with age. You were never really into those stupid firefighter calendars--the ones with the guys who clearly aren’t really firefighters posing with kittens and puppies, or they pose shirtless as they bake a cake--but seeing John hold a little kitten and kiss him, yeah, you’d definitely like to see him shirtless and just in his boxers as he poses with the kitten. Hell, even if he was shirtless in the kitchen with a huge mess behind him, you wouldn't mind that.

John is sexy. He’s always been sexy, but seeing him so vulnerable and sweet just makes him so much better--there’s nothing sexier than an emotionally mature man. Seeing him show up for you and Ronan every single day, seeing him with her, seeing how he goes out of his way for you on days when you struggle a little, all of that just makes you all the more attracted to him.

It sure doesn't hurt that he looks the way he looks, of course. His beard is still dark, but he does have some gray that is poking through here and there. His hair as well. His skin is amazing--you’re definitely still trying to figure out his secret for great skin. He’s still tall and lean with a little more muscle now than before since he’s been doing so much work around the house. He looks even better now than he did before, which is mind-boggling since he looked gorgeous before.

“Hey,” John taps your chin and smiles at you, “Where did you go?”

“I was just thinking about how sexy you are.” you say, and John scoffs. You hold his gaze and nod your head, “I’m not kidding. I was just thinking about how sexy you are and how sexy you’ve gotten.”

John perks up, “Really now?”

“Yeah, genuinely,” you look up at him, smiling, “You know how you always say that you’re more attracted to me now than before, and then you quickly add in that you were very attracted to me before so you don’t upset me?”

He starts to laugh, “Yeah.”

“That’s how I feel.” you say, and he chuckles, “Seeing you as a dad, seeing you be so vulnerable with me, seeing you so emotionally mature, seeing you with a tiny little kitten on you…”

“It’s hot?”

You laugh, “Yeah! I don’t know, John, you’re just getting more and more attractive to me. I like it a lot. I like that we haven’t lost our spark. Sure, we’ve had our little spurts where we’re not as intimate, but it’s not because we don’t want to be. We might just be a little more busy or tired, but it’s never been because we’re not into each other anymore--not for me at least.”

John laughs when you smirk and shrug your shoulder, “Oh, you know it hasn’t been for me either, you little shit.”

“Excuse you!” you laugh as John smiles at you, “You’re a little shit!”

“Nope,” he shakes his head and places Baby Cat back onto the ground where he quickly runs off to play with a toy, “You are a little shit.”

You scoff, turning your nose up jokingly, “I am not.”

“You are,” he pulls you to him and leans down to kiss you, “You’re my little shit.”

Letting out a small laugh, you kiss John as he helps you onto the counter, then he spreads your legs and steps between them as you two make out. You wrap your legs around him and pull him closer, and he lets out a small moan. His hands are warm on your back, and you shiver when you feel him slip one hand under your tank top.

Rain has been pattering against the windows all day so you’ve been cooped up inside, but you sure don’t mind. You really don’t mind when you have John in front of you to keep you entertained. Whether that’s with conversation or sex, whatever time you spend with him is well spent. Lying on the couch watching TV or reading, chatting about complete nonsense, or reminiscing about things from the past, as long as you’re with John, it’s perfect.

“Hey,” you lean back and look into his gorgeous brown eyes, “I love you.”

John’s finger trails along your jawline as he smiles, “I love you too.”

“We were making dinner,” you whisper, and he laughs as he looks down at his left hand resting on your breast, “I think we got a little sidetracked.”

“You’re very distracting, Mrs. Wick.”

A smile spreads on your face as you hold his gaze. You gently remove his hand from your chest and pull your tank top off, tossing it aside. John inhales deeply as he takes you in, and you reach for his hands again and place them both on your chest.

“Sorry for being so distracting.”

“You can distract me anytime.”

You start to laugh, “You’ve seen my boobs how many times?”

“Lots…” he nods, still staring at your chest as his fingers trail about your soft skin, “Lots of times. Still doesn’t matter how many times I see them, I fucking love them!”

You smile at him, “Still obsessed with my piercing, I see.”

John nods as he looks up at you with your nipple in his mouth, “Yes. Very.”

“When we get home--”

“I don’t want to talk about going home. We have a few more days. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t go home yet,” you shake your head and reach up to cup John’s face, “You still haven’t fucked me in that amazing shower yet.”

John pulls you closer and lifts you off the counter, “We have time now.”

“We were supposed to be making something to eat.” you say, and John starts to smirk.

“You have something I can eat,” he replies, low and velvety, and you bite your lip, “And you definitely want me to, don’t you?”

You hug him tighter, “Well, you certainly are the best at it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispers, and you close your eyes as he sucks on your neck. “I need to hear you moan for me, and I need it to be loud.”

You chuckle as John lays you back on the bed, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that.”

John hovers over you and smiles before he begins kissing down your body, getting himself situated between your legs. He pulls your shorts down and tosses them aside as he licks his lips, then he pulls your underwear off and smiles. He moves his hand up your stomach to rest between your breasts, then he leans down and buries his face, causing you to immediately moan loudly. “Good girl.”

“Remember how you wanted me to wear lingerie?” you say, and John laughs between your legs, “This is the problem right here, John.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, leaning up to look at you as you start to smile and shake your head. He moves back between your legs, “Good because I don’t want to either.”

taglist: @lilithlinen @ladyren33 @multifandombliss @ruby-octo @tnu-ree @scream-queen-25 @beingnerdyissupercool @sakurachan-9

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #john really loves to EAT. doesn't he.#and he just loves her god he loves her so much #if someone loved me like that i would pass out #i hope you all are loved like that one day #well i hope you enjoy!#they've been together 3 years now and that's so cute #and ro is gonna be ONE #like WHAT #that's my daughter y'all!#anyway lmao lemme shut up ENJOY!!!!!

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jamminvroomvroom · 1 month ago

Text

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 1

LN x fem!leclerc reader

part 1 of 2 -> find part two linked HERE!

in which you just can’t help yourself and neither can lando…

I’M BACK BITCHES!!!! hi sorry it’s been a while but we are back with what i hope is a bang lol. i’ve missed writing so much and as stressful as this was, i’m so so glad to be uploading something! i worked hard on this one and, of course, now i hate it whoops, but my girlie @lavenderlando made this possible and worth it. that’s my hype woman fr fr. N E WAY enjoy! lemme know what you think, and use some imagination for the timeline…

songs to set the vibe: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams, 2hands by tate mcrae, love in the dark by adele, illicit affairs by taylor swift, think twice by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!),

part 1: 10.3k words

1. oncoming traffic

“hey, osc, who’s that girl hanging around leclerc? thought he was still with alex.” lando tries his best to sound nonchalant, but oscar can see through him like a freshly buffed window, the way lando clears his throat and nervously ruffles his unruly hair.

“mate, i know you’re not the sharpest but i didn’t think you were that slow.” oscar laughs, side-eyeing the brit. he was baffled that lando was even asking. lando just shoots him a glare. “wait, you really don’t know?” lando’s glare hardens further, his eyes demanding an answer and oscar just laughs. “that’s his sister, you idiot. how have you never seen her?”

lando didn’t know how he’d never seen her. this year had been nonstop, what with the pseudo-championship battle and the never ending media shitstorm that rained on him whenever he reared his head. he’d also learned in his years of racing never to look too closely at the women in another drivers entourage. that’s how you ended up in the wall during a race. but charles’ sister? how had he never noticed?

“maybe i should go and introduce myself.” lando trailed off thoughtfully, his voice remaining playful. oscar snorted beside him, adjusting his racesuit.

“ooh, yeah, send twitter into a frenzy. it’s been boring lately.” the aussie driver drawls sarcastically, successfully dodging lando’s rapidly approaching elbow to his ribs.

“glad to know that you take pleasure in my never ending public humiliation!” lando grins maniacally, sauntering out of the garage, no longer any intention of seeking out the pretty girl in the short, black skirt. it was for the best.

he’s passing through the pit box, immersed in a groupchat thread with max and p about a trip to portugal that he didn’t really want to go on, and bam! like the idiot oscar had just accused him of being, he slams blindly into oncoming traffic.

oncoming traffic: the pretty girl in the short, black skirt.

“are you incapable of looking where you’re going?” your accent comes out thick, low with rage. it tickles his brain, like he’s heard it before. lando opens his mouth, like a fish out of water, closes it again pathetically. “seriously, for a pilot you have abysmal spacial awareness!”

“sorry… what the fuck.” lando mutters. why is this woman shouting at him like she knows him? like he regularly barrels into her?

“lando, yes?” you’ve calmed down a bit now, but you still speak through gritted teeth.

“…yes?” he replies like he’s not so sure.

“learn to look where you’re going.” you wrinkle your nose, composing yourself before stepping around him and strutting down the pitlane as if nothing had happened.

lando stands there, fixed in place, watching her walk away in utter confusion.

“smooth!” oscar calls from inside the garage, flanked by several laughing mechanics.

“go fuck yourself!” lando’s flushed red, now, and beeline’s for the pit wall.

he’s out of earshot when oscar says it.

“think he just met his wife, boys.”

lando is staring at the data on the screen when it hits him, will’s voice somewhere far away all of the sudden.

the mysterious leclerc had every right to reprimand him, because she was right. he did need to learn how to look where he’s going.

she’d told him that already, during their actual first meeting.

2. the first collision

the music was too loud, suffocating him along with the overbearing smell of cheap perfume, but the alcohol in his system and the outpouring of validation kept lando going.

three time race winner, lando norris.

five years of clawing back points and grabbing at podiums with two impatient hands had built up to this, to the incomparable glory of gracing that prestigious top step, and lando wasn’t about to let go of this moment just because of a pressing headache. max and pietra were waiting for him in a booth, surrounded by the rest of lando’s touring entourage. he was wracking up quite the tab, but it was all worth it. every slap on the back, seductive grin sent his way, made it worth it.

he’s stumbling over his feet, wasted, or close to it, grinning lazily, peering through hooded eyes. the vodka cranberry in his hand is sloshing dangerously around in the glass, his careless movements propelling him towards disaster.

lando hears the splatter of liquid, first, the scoff of disgust immediately after. long hair whips against his face as she turns, eyes wide with fury, set into a face that was never meant to look angry. he can smell vanilla, flowers. she’s an angel, turned devilish under the strobe lights, her delicate face morphing when he takes in the sight of him.

“are you fucking serious? mon dieu!” her accent twists his tummy, as does the increasingly see-through material of her tight white dress, layers of chiffon turning transparent with the stark red liquid. it’s all over her back, running slowly down the length of her exposed thighs, sticky. lando stands there, utterly transfixed and useless. she looks like she might slap him; he kind of wants her to. “of course, just stand there. fucking pilots.”

she mutters the last part and lando gulps. what does she know about other drivers? the implication makes his skin crawl for no reason, the idea of this nameless, mystery woman being familiar with his co-workers. he’s flushed with embarrassment for a multitude of reasons, opening his mouth just to close it again.

“‘m sorry!” he finally calls out to her, over the music. can the dj turn that shit down? “can i buy you a drink?” she just glares at him, gesturing at her ruined dress. “or… a new dress?” lando tries again, flashing what he hopes are puppy dog eyes.

he wants to take her back to his hotel room, lick the sweet liquid off of her frame, lap at her til she’s clean and crying. he wants to peel the stained white material off, tear it a little - it’s already ruined anyway! he can’t, though, because she’s wrinkling her nose at him, eyebrow raised, judging, and he’s awash with embarrassment all over again. the club spins and he feels nauseous. he finds max’s eyes on him, his friend stifling laughter at the tragic scene.

she’s gone when he looks back, seems to have disappeared into a cloud of distinctly expensive perfume, and her friends are curling their lips up at him, dismissive. they don’t care who he is. he wonders if they’re redbull fans, ferrari fans, perhaps.

he’s met with hoots of laughter as he slumps into the booth. he grabs a shot without a thought, doesn’t even register what liquor it is as it slides down his thick throat.

“can’t believe you just did that. only you would spill a drink all over leclerc’s sister.” max teases, elbowing him playfully.

“wha- he has a sister?” lando slurs, spluttering.

he doesn’t remember much after that.

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others.

youruser: shoutout to the guy that spilled his drink all over me!

francisca.cgomes: so beautiful so slay i miss u already

alexandrasaintmleux: love you!!!

charles_leclerc: delete this 🤦‍♂️

and other comments.

3. the watchful eyes of the big, black horse

your arm is linked with kika’s, giggling with her as you walk through the paddock.

“what about him?” kika whispers, pointing her chin towards one of the passing alpine mechanics. he’s blonde, pale, eyes dark. “pierre said he heard that he’s good with the ladies.” she wiggles her eyebrows and your cheeks heat up, swatting her playfully.

“i am not about to get a reputation for sleeping my way through the paddock.” you scoff. “plus, he’s not my type.” you shrug.

“you need to start putting yourself out there more, you keep saying you want someone.” the portuguese girl reasons. you nod sheepishly.

“i don’t wanna look for something, i want it to find me. is that pathetic? i just see how you are with pierre, how alex is with charles, and that’s what i want. something… real.” you sigh. kika sees the way your eyes gloss over with sadness.

“it’s never as easy and as perfect as it looks, babe, trust me. and anyway, maybe just focus on… the thing you were telling me about.” kika lowers her voice, giving you the look.

“shut up!” you squeal. “god, i am not discussing that here!”

“discussing what?” you hear pierre before you see him, hot with embarrassment. you’ve know him since before you could even walk, which is why you have no problem voicing your deepest, darkest shame.

“how i’m not getting laid, apparently!” you drawl sarcastically, slapping your hand over your forehead.

a poorly concealed laugh that you don’t recognise has you whipping around, eyes wide with bewilderment. it’s hearty, smooth, surprisingly warming. you practically growl when your eyes land on the source of the noise, standing next to pierre who looks embarrassed for you, his lips pressed thinly together to prevent himself from cackling.

“why is he here?” you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes so tightly shut that you feel a pang in your temples.

“as polite as ever.” lando smirks. you open

your eyes just in time to catch him eyeing up the skin of your thighs that your skirt doesn’t quite cover. is he checking you out?

“says the drink spiller.” you bite back, rolling your eyes.

“hey, i tried to pay for the damage.” lando looks utterly amused, pink lips still twisted into a punch-worthy smirk.

“so, you’ve met lando, then.” pierre grins, staring between you both. you don’t register the way he’s trading looks with kika, watching whatever this scene is unfold.

“unfortunately!” you smile tightly at the racing drivers.

“pretty sure you walked into me that second time. distracting me in the workplace, or something.” lando chimes in, enjoying this all a bit too much.

“if you did a better job at looking where you’re going-“

“okay, so this has been delightful!” pierre buts in, knowing that you have the shortest temper of all the leclerc offspring. “you,” he points at you. “get laid. you,” he points at lando. “don’t piss her off, you won’t like the result.”

kika can only send you a sympathetic smile, and remind you of the coffee date you have scheduled for tomorrow morning, as she’s dragged away from your place of social suicide. pierre winks, tilts his head far too pointedly for your liking towards lando. you fantasise, in that moment, of clawing his eyes out.

“i am sorry, for the record.” lando smiles at you, genuine and gleaming. something inside of you twists.

“for which time?” you’re just teasing now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“you have quite the attitude on you. that why you’re not getting any?”

you’re about to rip his head off and give max an even easier ride towards the championship, but lando steps forward. you can smell old spice, tangy and alluring and masculine.

“how fucking dare you-“

“because most men don’t know what to do with a woman like you. don’t know how to treat them right.” he’s so confident when he says it, leaning towards you in a way you can only describe as enticingly.

“oh, and you do?” you scoff, arms crossed. you must remain combative, or else you’ll give in. is this rock bottom?

“i’m free tonight if you wanna find out.”

“i’ll be far too busy doing literally anything else.” you can only pray he hasn’t caught the tremble in your voice, the ever so slight quiver of you bottom lip. you chew it into your mouth to stop yourself.

“but not anyone else.” lando doesn’t pose it as a question. it seems that he’s got you all figured out.

“whatever helps you and your hand sleep well tonight.” you spit. there’s heat between you, sparking into a flame that could burn down your whole life. you feel eyes burning into the back of your head - green ones that match yours. you falter. “i’m done here, lando. have a fantastic evening.”

he takes another liberty, leaning in even closer. spearmint and the idea of a million bad choices flood your every pore. you can feel the big, black horse watching over you, now, set into bright yellow, adorned with ferrari red. looming, warning, turning you in.

“you know, something tells me i will.”

lando disappears first, not even giving you a chance you spin on your heel and storm off. you want to kill him, hurt him, sink your teeth into that bronzed, thick throat, claw into his back, down, down, down… until you’re on your knees and-

“why were you talking to lando?” charles’ voice cuts through your filthy thoughts and you sign yourself over to god immediately, purifying yourself as you banish the visions of delicious sin. after all, you’re standing in the presence of il predestinato, the prince of monaco, a saint to many. but to you, he’s just your brother. your big brother, always in the way, always meddling, always, always watching. you sigh.

“friendly conversation.” you quip, short. you love him dearly, would take bullets for him, but, god, he keeps you on a leash. leo’s has more give than the conceptual tether charles has to you, keeping you close, boyfriendless, out of “trouble”. you know why, and deep down, you’re beyond grateful, all things considered. you can’t admit that, though.

“that’s not how pierre described it to me.” charles raises an eyebrow, voice bitter despite the clear attempt he’s made to try and hide it.

“fucking pierre.” you grunt. “it’s nothing, he came over with pierre. i was with kika. first time i’ve ever even had a conversation with lando.” that didn’t result from a drink being spilt over you to the point of transparency. you leave that bit out - charles really doesn’t need to know that.

charles mulls over your words, eyeing you suspiciously. you want to stomp your heeled foot like a child, a brat, scream and shout and kick and wail that he has to back the fuck off eventually, but you just smile innocently and pray he believes you.

“okay,” he mutters, making his peace. “i don’t want you getting too… familiar with him. bad reputation. he used to be quite sweet until his last breakup and now he will fuck anything with a pulse.” you wrinkle your nose at your brothers crude words, feeling the need to jump in and object. but why? you don’t know lando, you don’t care about lando. you press your lips into a thin, painful line. “you should go back to the hotel with alex. looks like i’ll be here late.” he rolls his eyes, you know how it is.

“sure, good luck.” you offer, smothering the rage that pools in your belly. let me fucking live, you think. just because he’d had to swoop in and save you from yourself once before, didn’t mean that you could live like this forever.

he has lit a spark under you, one that spreads like a wildfire towards the flame that lando ignited minutes before. if only your brother knew how to keep his big mouth shut, you wouldn’t be spurred on to bad behaviour.

if only lando hadn’t spilled that drink over you, maybe you wouldn’t be opening his instagram profile and sending a message request.

a place. your room number. a time.

you only wish you’d gotten to see the devilish grin on his face when he received it.

lando can’t want you for the reasons that other guys do. your status as charles leclerc’s little sister, and the gateway to your brother that you provided, meant nothing to the brit. that’s why you’d let him have you; he wouldn’t try to take more than you wanted to give.

4. generous

the knocks are soft against the door, yet they manage to have every hair on your body standing to attention. you’re quick to let him in, itching to get him inside and away from prying eyes. this is clandestine, secret, could even feel somewhat sacred once it’s over, and the last possible thing you could ever need is for another soul to know what you intend to do with lando, what you intend to let him do to you.

“hey.”

“hi.”

you stare at each other.

he steps forward. you don’t move away. he takes it as an invitation to close the space entirely, so close that, there it is again: oldspice, except this time it’s mixed with something fresh, shower gel you guess, sea salt. his curls are crisper than they were a few hours ago, still damp from the shower he must have just taken.

“what changed your mind?” he asks.

“i was feeling generous.” you deadpan. he bites back a laugh.

“generous, huh?”

“very.”

“considering your alleged dry spell, i’d say i’m the generous one, no?” his voiced is edged with something dark, dropped a few octaves. you could absolutely squirm under his gaze, but you hold strong.

“you know where the door is if that’s how you’re gonna be.” you coo, mocking his seductive undercurrent. all he does is flash his teeth, grinning cheekily, his way of accepting your challenge, your attitude.

“i think you want me to stay, honey.”

honey. you fear it works on you. the gap closes even further, you fear it’s your doing.

“you’re only getting this opportunity because i invited you here.” your resolve is slipping. you’ve admitted that you want him in your pathetic bid to hold the power, when the truth is, you want him to pounce on you, strip away every layer and barrier and make you see stars, feel euphoric.

“okay, honey, whatever you say.” he chuckles, cruel and taunting. “so, how dry of a spell has it been? wanna know what i’m working with.”

lando touches you then, lightning shooting down your arm as he traces from your elbow down to your fingers, featherlight, barely there, a ghost of a touch that haunts you so deliciously. your fingers intertwine. you initiate it, but really, it’s his fault. this is all his fault.

you try and laugh, but it sounds broken, quivering it’s way out from your dry throat.

“dry.”

he just stares at you, expectant. he needs to hear more, needs to know. he craves details about you, has ever since you body slammed him outside his garage - leading to some very covert instagram stalking on his behalf and his oh so convenient way of worming his way into a conversation with pierre when lando could see that the other driver was on his way over towards you. it’s pathetic, maybe, but he craves you the way one craves nicotine forever after just one puff of a cigarette. he has you, just for tonight, maybe longer if he gets this right, so he will know everything he needs to know so that he can touch you just how you need.

“i’ve only… it’s been a while.”

he sees right through you.

“you’ve only what?” he presses. he needs to know.

“i’ve only done this once.” you whisper. it’s the meekest he’s seen you. he loathes it.

“and was it good?” lando murmurs so attentively that you want to cry.

your fourth interaction with this man, and he has you melting.

“not really.”

“do you trust me?” his nose is bumping yours. you’re locked in, twitching. he has both hands on you, now, one still laced with yours, the other trailing up your arm, tempted to brush his fingertips against the taut skin of your neck.

how the fuck can i trust you? i don’t know you! what the fuck are we doing? what the fuck am i doing?

that’s not what you say, though, because for some reason, you are so sickeningly comfortable and okay that you worry that something is wrong with you.

“yes.”

“then this time will be so, so much better. i’ll make it all better.”

when his lips meet yours, you’re surprised at how good it immediately feels. you don’t know what you were expecting, but his lips are plush, enveloping yours softly, but firm enough that you sink into him, allowing him to cement that grip on the side of your neck that he’d been taunting you with.

he kisses you like he’s sure of everything, like this is second nature and you’ve done it a thousand times. you want to kiss him a thousand times. why it’s so good, you’re not sure, but it gives you the confidence to lean into him, grab the bottom of his hoodie in your hands and tug.

“be patient, ‘n i’ll make you feel so good, honey, i promise.” he mouths down your cheek, nipping at your jaw, down your neck until he finds that special spot below your ear. he nibbles there, lapping his tongue over your sensitive skin like he already knows your body. you want to see just how familiar with you he can get. “but,” he punctuates the word with a sharp bite. you both dread and revel in the mark it will leave. “you have to behave for me, okay?”

his words are whispered against the shell of your ear and you shiver, eyes rolled back already. you wonder if he’ll get them to do a full three-sixty rotation in your skull.

“‘kay.” you breathe, mindless, floating away. it’s already better than last time.

“‘kay’?” he mocks. “no, honey, you gotta promise me. can you promise me?”

“promise.” you lock eyes, conveying your obedience. his eyes blow wide, pupils dilating to shove away the mysterious bluey green. his teeth grit. he knows he’s hit the jackpot.

“good girl.”

you’re stripped naked, mustering all of your energy to shove his clothes off, his hoodie flying away, his sweats kicked into a faraway dark corner. you’re left naked, him in some increasingly tight boxers, and you tumble into the freshly made bed. he slinks over you, crawling on his hands and knees, predator stalking prey.

he stains your inner thighs purple, tugging your legs over his shoulder, huge hands warm and rough as they manoeuvre your malleable body to his liking. lando presses kisses to every inch of skin, dragging his tongue over your bare flesh before he spreads you open, sucking and tasting and savouring. he moans into you, open and wet, and it ricochets off of every nerve ending, sending your body taut and arched, catlike. you’re trying to get away, whilst simultaneously grinding yourself closed to him, feeling that broad, sharp nose of his bump messily and firmly against your clit, an ache spreading through your pelvis that makes you shake and shake and whine his name out to the gods.

“taste like heaven.” lando’s words are simple, straightforward, make you bite your lip so hard you taste something metallic seeping over your tongue. “so tight, even around my tongue,” he slurs, drunk, lost. “gotta stretch you out for me. that okay, honey?” you can just about make it all out, and you nod furiously, pleading.

his teeth graze your clit.

“say please.”

“putain! please!” you kick your feet out when all he does is laugh into your wet flesh.

one finger grazes through your folds, parting them and collecting a mess of your slick. he looks transfixed as it drips down his finger.

honey.

you watch him watch how he opens you up, revelling in the utter fascination painting his features, pussy drunk and curious, transfixed.

“can’t believe you’ve never been fucked right.” he coos, breathless, genuinely shocked. you quake under his skilful hands and his awful, sinful, dirty mouth.

“more.” you plead, not ashamed by your crude begging. you’re a mess for him already, might as well get the full experience.

“think you can take another?”

a second finger slides in, rocking against your walls, testing the waters. you writhe, meeting his movements with shallow thrusts of your hips.

“faster, i need- mon dieu! anything, lando, please just-“ he really goes to town then, scissoring your dripping cunt open, curling and twisting and grinding the two digits so deep that you see white, hazy chocolate coloured curls and deep, glazed over eyes.

“that’s it, honey, there you go. so fucking pretty for me.” lando whispers the last bit, awestruck, and you’d take the time to wonder why if you weren’t on the verge of tears, overstimulated, ears ringing. your orgasm crashes over you like a surge of electricity, tearing through your body like it’s trying to escape and take cover. it’s so strong that you’re damp everywhere, sweating and crying and so fucking shocked that it can feel like this.

“lando.” you pant, mouth dry, voice hoarse.

“you did so good. was it okay?” he rubs small circles into your hips, eyes flitting between your own and where you’re still leaking for him. he manages to tear his eyes away, like a trance has broken, snaking up your body until he’s laying next to you, propped up on his elbow. he hovers over you, raking his eyes over the rising and falling lines of your body.

“pretty good, i guess. didn’t know you had it in you.” you tease, smirking lazily up at him.

you want to keep staring at him but your vision is blurring as your eyes begin to droop. what a long day it’s been.

“high praise coming from you.” lando reasons, laughing lightly. he strokes over your hipbone and you jolt, curling around onto your side. his skin is warm against yours, soft and smooth, and you dare you press your even closer, shy, as if he wasn’t just buried mercilessly between your legs. you hum in response, spent and languid. “you wanna get some sleep?” he asks.

“we didn’t… i mean, you didn’t…” you trail off, awkward, gesturing towards his middle.

lando just smiles.

“guess i’ll just have to come find you in monaco.”

you flush, cheeks burning as you consider the fact that you’re gonna be in the same country, a very small, very private city. who knows what could happen?

you fall asleep quickly, easily, far too comfortable next to the british driver. if you were to ask, he’d say he left immediately. he watches the way you breathe far too intently, ever so slowly pulling his clothes back on. he doesn’t know how long passes, but what he does know is that he can’t wait to have you like this again.

5. some guy

you sink into the oversized armchair, sitting back and letting kika and alex talk, nattering backwards and forwards about nothing in particular. or, maybe you’re just zoned the fuck out.

you can’t stop thinking about the way he touched you, your body littered with evidence, dark purple bruises turning a stale green between you thighs. when you woke up, you initially wondered if it was all a dream, but the dull, sweet ache thrumming through your bones told you just how real it really was. you went through the motions, embarrassed momentarily before deciding to just embrace it, try to bask in the way he’d made you feel: sexy and desirable and electric.

it was just a shame that it had to be him. that’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

kika’s nodding along to a story alex is telling about leo, about to respond with a similar anecdote about simba but she gasps instead, almost spilling her americano all over herself. this gets your attention and you open your mouth to ask her is she’s okay, but she beats you to it.

“my god, what is that?” she chokes, staring at you. or, well, your neck.

you flush, heated, blood pooling in your cheeks.

you’d tried to cover it up, seriously, applying layer after layer of concealer and strategically placing your hair in such a way that you prayed it wouldn’t be noticeable, but nonetheless, there it is, clear as day. red raw skin tinged purple around the seams, branded into your neck like some kind of public humiliation ritual.

fuck you, lando fucking norris!

you avert eye contact, leaning away from alex who is now making a point of leaning in, going as far as to push your hair back so she can get a closer look.

“oh my gosh!” she squeals, giggling with kika.

you take a long, slow gulp of coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue.

“who was it? holy shit, was it lando?” kika whisper shouts and you officially drop dead on the spot, watching her connect the dots so easily.

“oh jesus, no! no!” you lie, feigning offence, your leg bouncing shamefully under the table. the two girls eye you suspiciously, but you assume you’ve played it off well.

“who, then?” alex asks. you wonder if kika has told her about yesterdays interaction.

“just- i don’t even know, some guy.” you huff, playing with a loose thread hanging from your jumper.

“some guy? after what you were saying yesterday? okay, babe.” kika teases sarcastically. “no, cmon, who?” she pouts, leaning in as well.

“just… someone.” you squeak, unable to look up at them.

“okay, well, we will find out eventually.” alex wiggles her eyebrows and you stick your tongue out, mock-glaring at your sister in law.

“no, the fuck you won’t.” you try and fake some confidence, scrapping for a mere shred of control.

yes, the fuck they will, because when you leave for the bathroom, you leave your phone unlocked like the utter fool you are. god has it out for you, you figure, because that’s when he chooses to strike.

the message lando sends you is short and sweet, and alex chokes on a piece of cake when kika starts gesturing wildly at the notification that pops up on your screen.

for when you’re lonely at home and can’t find anyone to fuck you right.

attached is his address.

they don’t breathe a word when you come back, but they share a knowing smirk when they catch you smiling at your phone, and again when you ask if either of them have anything with a higher neckline that you can wear for the race.

youruser has just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others

youruser: race day, big slay

user1: LEO!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest girl in the world

user45: lando what are you doing here 🤔

6. manners

“are you even listening to me right now?” charles scoffs, finishing off his drink out of annoyance. your eyes snap back to him, the thumping music vibrating through your body.

“sorry, just tipsy.” you purse your lips, attempting to lock back in on whatever he’s saying, but it’s hard. it’s hard, because sprawled out in a booth across from where you stand at the bar, lando is watching your every move.

you’ve managed to avoid him thus far, no contact since you’d liked the DM he’d sent you a few weeks back. you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t think of him and what you’d done at literally every waking moment, so the way he’s watching you, hooded eyes sparkling under the strobe lights, has you squirming. it was easier to tell yourself that, surely, it wasn’t that good when he wasn’t right in front of you in a half unbuttoned shirt. the navy blue fabric is wrapped around his body deliciously, taut where his muscles are, the colour popping against his tanned skin - which you can practically feel writhing against yours.

you wish charles would go away so you could crawl into that booth and commit public indecency.

speak of the devil, your brother seems to have clocked that you have zero interest in what he has to say so he huffs, ordering another round for the table and telling you he’s going to find alex. he shuffles away and you subtly search for the british drivers mindful eyes, but he’s disappeared, left his entourage in the booth. you swallow disappointment that makes you feel pathetic, head in your hands against the bar top, but the lightest brush of fingers against your waist drags you out of your spiral. you know immediately.

“did you dress like that for me, or are you just a slut?” he’s grinning, light and teasing, surprisingly sober, tipsy at most, just like you.

“i could ask you the same.” you smirk, blatantly eyeing his exposed chest. he shrugs, leaning in.

”might have left an extra button undone just for you.” lando winks and you hope the lights hide the way you flush.

“sure you did, just for me and every other girl in here.” you challenge. his eyebrows furrow.

“nope. just for you.” his eyes darken, just a tad but enough that you notice. your mouth runs dry. “you never replied to me.”

“not true, i liked the message.” you smile coyly, sipping your drink. your lipstick smears against the rim of the glass and you watch him stare at the print, tongue wetting his lips.

“you are something else.” he shakes his head, pushing his curls back. it could be frustration, but he still seems at ease, like he’s enjoying your combative nature. you smile into the glass, hoping he doesn’t notice. he does. “how much have you had to drink?”

“this is my second.”

“you sober enough for me to take you home?” lando’s face is mere inches away from yours now, and you can feel the pull, desperate to crawl into the space that still remains and lose yourself there.

“depends.”

“on?” you truly exasperate him, but he thinks he loves it.

“if you’re actually gonna fuck me this time.” you casually take another sip, playing it off as if your crude words had no impact on you.

lando’s eyes widen at your bluntness, and so does his grin.

“meet me by the valet.”

lando leaves, and you quickly follow, downing the remnants of your glass and touching up your lipgloss.

alex watches from her booth, and pulls out her phone.

to: kika gomes

oh, she’s deeeeefinitely sleeping with lando!!!

pietra leans towards her boyfriend, close enough that he can hear her over the noise.

“isn’t that charles’ sister?” she shouts, pointing to the bar, where lando is stood.

max analyses the way he’s stood, leant against the bar, nice and close to the ferrari drivers little sister. he knows that look on lando’s face, and he knows it far too well. max pinches the bridge of his nose.

“oh for fuck sake.”

it’s weird, sitting with him in silence. he’s only had half a drink, able to drive back through the winding hills to his apartment. you stare out the window, mostly, when you aren’t staring blatantly and curiously at lando. you can see the sea, glistening under the moonlight and you wish you could focus on that instead, but he’s there, and you have to admit - begrudgingly, albeit - that he’s stunning. his hands wrap around the wheel tauntingly, as if he’s trying to convey how he’ll touch you, all consumingly. your thighs press together, your fingers clasping together as if you’re subconsciously stopping yourself from reaching out for him prematurely.

as if he can hear your thoughts, his palm smoothes over the skin of your bare thigh, right where your dress has ridden up, without a second thought, nothing tentative about the way his digits curve around your skin.

“so, you’ve been thinking about that night, then?” he breaks the silence, glancing over at you.

“what makes you say that?” you whisper, not even meaning to but the silence had been so heavy.

“well, you only left with me on the condition i’d bend you over.” he laughs loud, whole and warm. you fight it, just for a second, but then you join in, giving in to him. you can’t help it, he makes it easy.

“you got me.” you concede, rolling your eyes. without realising it, you’ve relaxed completely into his touch.

he pulls off of the road and into a private garage. you breath hitches.

“do you want a drink or…?” lando gestures blindly towards his kitchen, walking further into the apartment.

he’d spent the elevator ride up to his place leant against the opposite wall, taunting, making you wait. he’d let himself look at you, totally unabashedly, raking his eyes over your frame, meekly tucked into the corner, shy under his intense gaze but frustrated by his lack of urgency.

“i’m good. didn’t come here for a tea party.” you hope your words push his buttons. they must, because he turns on his heel, facing you again, suddenly towering over you.

his eyes are steel, face serious, and you don’t know what to do. you’ve never seen him look at you like this.

“i think we need to work on your manners.” he speaks condescendingly, down at you, and if you weren’t so needy, hadn’t been waiting weeks, you’d turn around and leave just to really prove his point. but you stay planted, looking up at him through mascara coated lashes, softening you gaze until you’re sure you’re conveying faux innocence.

“maybe we can work on them in your bedroom.” you truly don’t know where you get this confidence from, he’s the second man to have ever touched you so intimately, but he’s magnetic, drawing you out of your own head and straight towards him.

he tugs you towards him, kissing you messily, right there in the dim light of his kitchen, pawing at your waist hungrily. his tongue brushes your and you moan, humming into his mouth at the faint taste of mint and vodka, long gone but you can taste everything. his thick fingers find your ass, hoisting you up until you have no option but to wrap your legs around him, your dress scratching at your thighs the higher it rides up, but all it does it turn you on more, rough sensations on sensitive skin.

lando walks you blindly to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and you wonder how many times he’s done this to get it down to muscle memory. the thought makes you nauseous, drags you mercilessly right back into your head, and you pull away, your lips barely brushing his.

“why me?” you breathe, panting into the shallow space where your mouths have parted.

“what?” he whispers, confused.

“why do you want to do this with me?” you have to check, past insecurities rising to the surface like bile in the back of your throat. he looks genuinely baffled and you feel foolish for ruining the moment.

“why wouldn’t i? you’re gorgeous and-“ he cuts himself off, his eyes glazing over. the demeanour slips and you’re stuck, his arms still tight around you, holding you close in the empty space at the foot of his bed.

“what?” you whisper.

“you’re part of the same life.” the way he looks at you says words that he can’t.

words that will sound too shallow and too selfish and too meaningless, even though you will understand them because you’re here for similar reasons, and therefore, they will mean too much.

you can’t take things from him. you can’t fake it. you can’t break him into a million pieces when he finally discovers that you want him because of what he can give you.

you nod once, firm.

“i get it.” you smile sadly. lando wants to know more. he can find out some other time. a moment of clarity passes between you. “kiss me, again?” you ask. he delivers immediately.

kisses you all the way onto the bed. kisses you while he helps you take off your heels, while he drags the zipper of your dress down. you both feel safe now, understood, and that really moves things along.

“so pretty.” he mutters into your skin, shedding you of your tight dress.

your shaky fingers work over the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him all over again. you’re left in your panties, braless already, and he gawks down at you, like he’s seeing everything for the first time. it makes you feel powerful.

“can you hurry up?” you writhe, arching into his touch. he smiles, covering his body with yours and pressing a kiss to your lips. his fingers slide over the curves of your body, finding the band of your underwear and toying with it.

“want me to take them off?” he purrs, trailing his lips down your jaw to just below your ear.

“now.” you beg, eyes fluttering closed as his warm breath pricks at your skin, teeth nibbling. “no marks.” you whine, flashing back to the weeks over knowing looks and attempts at covering the last one up.

“what were we saying about manners, hm? gonna need to start hearing some ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’, okay, honey?” he bites down again, harder this time, and you squirm underneath him, your soft belly moulding to each dip of his abs.

his fingers dip into your panties, finding your clit amongst your wetness. you just about bite back a moan, but you can’t help but roll your hips into his hand, his fingertips gliding easily through your folds.

“va te faire foutre.” you mutter, teeth gritting at the pleasure and his words. go fuck yourself.

“i’ve lived in monaco long enough to know what that means.” lando whispers, pinching your clit once before plunging a finger inside of you.

you hiss, head thrown back, the feeling of him smiling against the hickey bittersweet. and to think, it was almost healed. you can’t help but keen into his touch.

“more,” you pant. “please.”

“you learn fast.” lando approves, and quickly fulfils your request, adding another finger.

they flex inside of you, grinding deeper and deeper until you’re whimpering his name and leaking down his wrist. your arms wrap around him, nails digging in to his smooth back, his ropey muscles tensing under your firm touch. his thumb bumps your clit, over and over, pushing you to the precipice, so close you can taste the impending orgasm on your tongue.

“it’s so good, merci, god.” you sound wrecked already, and lando can’t wait to see how far he can push, how far apart he can take you.

“that other fucking loser didn’t know what he had, jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” he rasps, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, how your breasts bounce with every thrust of his fingers, the way his hand is glistening in the low light of his bedroom. his words are your undoing, the awe in his voice sending sparks shooting through every nerve ending.

“lando, ‘m gonna… putain!” the way you switch languages is sexy to him, tells him how scrambled your brain is, and he twitches in his boxers. when you cum, it’s as gorgeous and as enticing as the first time, and he jolts against your hip, desperate to get inside of you finally.

“you’re so beautiful.” he groans, pulling his fingers from your entrance. he stares blindly at the mess you’ve made on them, salivating, remembering the way you taste. it’s a no brainer for him, and he licks both digits clean, giving you just a moment to recover.

“i need you.” you whisper, your legs still spread, quivering slightly.

you pull him in once more, his covered crotch grinding against your slick and you cry out, the friction sending you into overdrive. his teeth dig into your shoulder, the sensation entrapping him, leaving him weak, ready to give you whatever you ask. he pushes his underwear away, and your eyes go wide.

“you can have me,” he grunts, running his hand over himself. “think you can take it?” he wets his lips and you think you could cum again at the sight of him. sweat slicked, tight curls falling over his eyes, lips licked pink and kiss swollen, hard and heavy in his own hand, body curved over yours possessively. you’re a simple woman, really.

“i think i can try.” you want to sound confident, but it comes out as a squeak.

he sits back on his knees and brings his free hand to cup your jaw.

“i’ll go slow with you, honey, okay? you can tell me to stop.” lando promises. “you sure you want this?”

you nod, pouting up at him.

“i want you, i can take it.” you manage through a deep breath.

the stretch is brutal, splitting you in half. all you can do is breathe, watching the way he watches you, and that’s what you hone in on, his pretty eyes watching where he’s filling you up. when he bottoms out, he stops for a second, scanning your face for discomfort.

“are you okay?”

“c’mere.” you coo, and he falls back over you, paws at your waist. “move, lando.” you plead.

it’s slow, deep, makes your toes tingle. you can feel each and every drag of him against your walls and it makes you dizzy, a knot twisting and tickling in your belly. your fingers are twisted around him, around his biceps, crumbling a little bit every time he flexes in your grip.

“oh, mon dieu.” you’re whimpering, legs wrapping around him like vines, tighter and tighter with every buck of his hips.

“‘s it feel good, honey? yeah? you’re so fucking tight for me.” lando chokes, licking over the sweat on your collarbone. “‘m i making it feel good?” he sounds so cocky, sexy, but there’s a soft edge around his words. it matters to him, how he’s treating you, this, a certain delicateness hanging around your intertwined bodies like a cloud.

“so good, lando, so fucking good.” the words scratch your throat raw, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“no, no, lemme hear you, pretty girl. can feel how close you are for me.” you can hear the edge to his voice, can tell the end is near for both of you, the way his words wobble despite his best attempts at hiding it. “need you to look at me, and i need to hear you.”

you don’t even realise until then that your eyes are shut, screwed up tight as the pleasure rolls through your body, flooding each and every one of your senses. you free your lip, and everything pours out, whines, raw slurs of his name.

“i’m so close.” he grunts, watching the way your face moves, hanging on to every micro expression, the way you battle to keep all of your attention on him.

“fill me up.” you urge, squeezing his hips between your thighs. his eyes widen, the request slowly registering, and he blinks away the voice in his head telling him to do it.

“you know i can’t.” he’s firm, sensible even if you aren’t.

“want it so bad, lan, please, wanna feel it.” you reason, cupping his face and pushing his curls back.

“not tonight.”

“yes, tonight. give it to me.”

“i said no, don’t be a fucking brat.” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

“know you want it.” you whisper, seductive and devious. you can see his resolve slipping, tightening around him.

before you can say anything else, your hands are scooped up, pinned above your head. he’s right over you now, your hips perfectly aligned, and he’s driving so deep that you swear you can feel him in your tummy. his thrusts resort to a harsh grind, digging into each other with every snap of his pelvis.

“you want it so bad? huh? fine.” he growls, forehead resting against yours. “want me to cum in you, fuck it all back in? yeah, honey? you gonna keep it all in for me?”

“whatever you want.” you promise, eyes rolling back in your head. “just- please, please do it.” you pant, mouth dry.

“that’s it, pretty girl, take it all for me.” he buries his face in your neck, nipping at your collarbone. “doing so good.” the words fan against your throat, hushed, leaving you warm from the inside out, brainless.

when you spill around him, it’s at the same time as he lets go, and he fucks you through your orgasms. you go limp beneath him, taking it, letting it all wash over you, letting him wash all over you. you feel like you can’t breathe, suffocating under the weight of him and the reality of what you’ve just done. again. for some reason, you don’t care, and decide that you’ll do this again and again, anytime he’ll have you. not that you’ll ever tell him that…

“fuck.” he exhales, rolling off of you carefully, but the overstimulation - and then lack thereof - makes you wince, and he strokes your hip gently in apology.

“that was better than i thought it would be.” you grin, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“you know, these are starting to sound kinda backhanded.” he beams, laughing breathlessly, but just as he begins to relax into his bedspread, he remembers. “oh fuck, shit, we need a pharmacy!” lando bolts up so that he’s sitting, scanning the room blindly for his clothes. you giggle and he snaps his head towards you, panicked.

“no, lando, we don’t.”

“all of that ‘uh, fill me up, please lando you’re so sexy’ talk means that, yes we absolutely do! fuck, how much is plan b these days?” he’s spiralling now, tugging at his curls.

“first of all, i’m on birth control. second of all, i don’t sound like that, and most importantly, i did not call you sexy.” you smirk, stretching out your tight muscles.

“that’s the most important part? woman, you nearly killed me.” lando gasps, slumping back down into bed.

“‘m sorry, couldn’t resist playing with you a little. good to know we share a kink, though.” your smirk turns into a coy smile, and you swing your shaky legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into the plush rug.

“oh, yeah? what other kinks are you hiding from me?” lando sits back against the headboard, tucking his hands behind his bed. you have to look away, or else you’ll accidentally fall back into his bed.

“guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” it makes him quirk an eyebrow, a look of understanding settling over his face.

“so this is gonna be a regular thing, yeah?”

you’re putting your underwear back on when he says it, searching for your dress, but his words make you freeze. he sounds hopeful, and it makes your chest pang… wait, is that your heart?

“i don’t… i mean, as you unfortunately know, i haven’t done this before. i don’t know how this works.” you say it so earnestly, so innocently, that his whole face softens, awestruck and boyish.

“i want it to be a regular thing.” he says it gently, like he’s offering it to you, to the universe.

“okay. me too.” you whisper back, shy under his gaze.

“are you… like, do you think you’ll be sleeping with other people?” lando squeaks, doing a terrible job of playing it cool.

“for so many reasons, no.” you grimace. “but if we’re doing this then i wouldn’t want to anyway.” you say softly. your dress is back on now, but he has you flustered, and you can’t quite get the zipper.

“lemme help.” he offers, and he’s out of bed and before you in a matter of seconds. his calloused fingers graze your skin as he pulls the zipper together and up, adjusting your dress back into place. it feels so terrifyingly intimate, exciting, and you can’t bring yourself to move away. “i wouldn’t want to either.” he breathes the words quietly into the small space between you.

“okay.” you don’t even try to hide the way you beam, staring up at him.

“i’ll take you home, yeah?”

“yeah.”

7. worth it

and so, begins a clandestine affair, touches in the shadows, subtle glances, watchful eyes.

one of you calls, the other comes, sneaking through doors that neither of you should enter, leaving bars a few minutes apart, making up excuses to get out of plans.

there’s the time lando has you bent over the end of your bed, tears leaking into the mattress, slick everywhere. he’s so deep this way, hammering away at the special spot nestled within you that he’s become very familiar with. one of his hands is dragging your hips back to meet his thrusts, the other splayed out across your back, holding you down.

your phone rings. it’s alex. you were supposed to be a brunch twenty minutes ago. you groan out, frustrated in every sense of the word.

“answer it, honey.” lando grunts, pulling you towards him even harder. you whimper, shaking your head, words dying on your tongue. “go on, i know you can do it. wouldn’t want alex to worry, would you? let her know you’re okay.” he coos, condescending.

he’s so arrogant, full of it, and you like the challenge. you can’t let him win, can’t let him revel in how fucked out he has you, so against your better judgement, you grab the phone, fingers shaking as you answer.

“hi, love. i know, i’m late! ‘m sorry, i’ll be there soon!” you wince at the way your voice shakes. you hope she can’t hear the way you’re panting, or the sound of his hips hitting yours.

lando slows his hips, hitting deep at such a torturously slow pace that feels a million times better than it already did. your free hand flies back, swatting at him.

“where the hell are you? i was worried!” alex sounds relieved, but there’s something else in her tone that you can’t quite decipher.

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.” you lie, throwing your younger brother into the line of fire. you know, for credibility. alex is silent for a moment.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you release a breath you were holding, crying out when lando immediately speeds up again.

“i hate you.” you choke, grinding your hips into him. lando just scoffs, sliding a hand under your belly, flush against the mattress. he finds your clit, playing with it, urging you quickly towards your release.

“no, you don’t.” he laughs. “you better cum for me, pretty girl, i think you have somewhere to be.”

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.”

alex has to bite back a laugh. she stares across the table, where arthur is having an avid debate with charles and joris. arthur, who had been with her and charles for hours.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” alex hangs up the phone, giggling to herself. leo stirs in her lap.

“what’s so funny?” charles asks her. she shakes her head.

“oh, nothing, she just overslept.”

there’s the time where he has you hiked up on your kitchen counter, messy curls tickling the insides of your thighs. he’s licking at you ravenously, dragging his tongue up and down, twisting around your clit in circles.

you’re tugging on his hair, holding him close to where you’re aching, dripping, slicking up the lower half of his face. he’s groaning into you, starved and desperate. it’s been a week since you’ve seen him, had him like this, the longest you’ve done without him since the first time you’d had sex. its untamed and needy and you fear what it means, the way you’re so addicted to one another.

you also haven’t seen your brother for a week, something you realise when you hear a key turn in the lock, down the corridor. you have seconds to react, the noise washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water. you squirm, pushing a very confused lando away, managing to kick him lightly in the head as you leap from the counter.

“mon dieu! fuck, i’m sorry!” you gasp.

“what the fuck is going on-“ you cut him off, slapping your palm over his mouth.

you glance around frantically, looking for a way out of this. there is but one option available.

“the balcony! just- fuck, get out there!” you shoo him over to the small window, begging him with your eyes. “please! i’ll get rid of him!”

you can hear footsteps approaching. you’re sweating now, smoothing down your skirt and your hair anxiously.

charles calls your name, rounding the corner and walking into your kitchen, just as you pull the window closed again.

“shit, you scared me!” you fake, clutching your chest. you can feel your heart hammering.

“i did knock, sorry!” charles looks you over, scanning the kitchen. “are you okay?”

“yeah, fine, sorry, i must have been out of it. i’m in the middle of an assignment.” you lie.

“oh okay, well i can always go…” he’s looking at you weirdly, and you fear he knows something, that he can tell.

“can we get dinner tonight? i’ll book.” you offer, scratching your neck.

“yeah, that’s great. are you sure you’re okay?” your brother asks, turning to leave.

“promise, yeah, i’m just so busy with work, deadlines and all that.” you wrinkle you nose, feigning distaste.

“well you can tell me all about it later, okay? love you.” charles says sincerely, smiling.

“love you too.” you call, listening for the sound of the door closing behind him.

you immediately rush for the window, throwing it open, peeking your head out. lando stands with his back against the wall, shivering in nothing but a t-shirt. you look at him sheepishly.

“get back in here.” you tell him, standing back to give him space to crawl back through. “‘m sorry.” you giggle.

“you’re lucky you’re worth it.” lando teases, stalking towards you and wrapping you in his arms. his skin is cold against yours, and you huff, try and push him off. “hey, i’m cold!” he pouts.

“you know, you’re lucky you’re worth it, i could have just let him murder you.” you reason, looking up at him. your hands slide around him, returning his embrace, warm hands skating up under his shirt.

“you wouldn’t.” he says simply. “i’m way too good in bed.”

“you keep telling yourself that, norris.”

“i don’t need to, you tell me more than enough.”

lando leans down to kiss you, then, nothing all that unusual but it always feels like a step too far, intimate in a way that you two usually aren’t. you kiss him back regardless, because really, you love it. he always tastes minty, divine when you let him lick into your

mouth.

“i believe we were in the middle of something.” he whispers.

“remind me.” you breathe.

and there’s also the time where he’s fucking you in his drivers room, the massage table thudding dully against the wall with every hard thrust.

his race suit is pulled down just enough, your dress bunched around your hips, and he’s slamming into you mercilessly.

the whole thing was a blur, really; you’d always vowed that you would never have sex at a race track, but that promise was old news, now, broken the very second you caught the way he was staring at you. his eyes were hard, unreadable, jaw clenched as he glared at the man talking to you. you were just being friendly, catching up with franco, but lando wouldn’t have it, not after such a shitty race. one harsh snap of his neck towards the mclaren motorhome had you quickly excusing yourself. you knew what it meant.

“you don’t talk to me at the track but you let him?” lando growls, rutting into you wildly. you cling onto the damp material of his racesuit, head thrown back.

“was just saying hello.” you gasp out, opening your eyes to look up at him. he’s staring down at you, angry. it’s hot.

“i don’t wanna see you talking to him. you see how he was looking at you? fucker should know who you belong to.” he hisses, sliding his hand between your legs. “you’re gonna cum for me when i say, okay? and you’re gonna be nice and loud, honey. no holding back.”

“lando i’m-“

“when. i. say.” he cuts you off, punctuating each order with a snap of his hips.

all you can do is take it, dripping all over him. you can hear it, the wet squelch of him filling you up.

“should mark up this pretty neck, yeah? let everyone know that you already belong to someone.”

you barely register what he’s saying, but the words leave you hot, pushing you even closer to the edge and you clamp down around him.

“squeezing me so tight, bet you’ve wanted me all day, huh, honey? saw you looking at me earlier, pretending like you weren’t when i caught you. couldn’t just asked and i would’ve fucked you right then.” lando grunts. you wail out, thrashing against the makeshift bed and he nods, letting you know it’s okay.

“that’s right, pretty girl, that’s it. been so good letting me have you. cum for me, baby.”

baby.

it’s the first time he’s ever called you that. it’s the final push you need.

he collapses into you as he finishes, sweaty curls plush against your bare shoulder. you’re both panting, spent, basking in the moment of silence.

“thank you.” he whispers, sealing it with a kiss against your neck. it tingles, a foreign feeling settling in your belly, shooting through your veins.

“you drove really well.” you reply, quiet. his breathing halts, a self deprecating laugh filling the room.

“don’t do that.”

“what?”

“act like you were watching my race. charles have a great drive, that must have been a lot more interesting.”

“maybe, but i was watching you.”

your words hit him hard. he can’t help but kiss you. you swallow a moan, and a whole heap of feelings that you’re too scared to tackle.

“you better go. will i see you in brazil?”

“yeah, lando. you will.”

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes

liked by: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

youruser: hola chica 🤭

francisa.cgomes: my love my loveeeee

user21: once again i am asking. why are you here lando? 👀

user56: stop inventing!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful girlies

user66: icon mother slay incredible

PART TWO IS HERE!

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