#arm cutting is not a love language
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
sloppy doodles (storyboard for when im not too lazy to draw) of them in this situation because this would definitely happen (after ryan cut off dylans arm)
#🧃 ˗ˋ ୨ zephs rambling (>。☆)#the quarry dylan#the quarry game#the quarry#the quarry ryan#ryan#ryan ezrahler#kaitlyn ka#kaitlyn#the quarry kaitlyn#rylan#blood loss#arm cutting is not a love language#(or maybe it is..)#we'll never know#ignore the fact dylan has a black eye#he looked too much like steve harrington so i tried to switch it up#then i realised he looked even more like steve harrington during s3#but arent steve and dylan just the same character?#im adding too many tags now#i should stop#how do i bring myself to stop rambling#i dont know#im just gonna end it here
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay yeah I wasn't ever gonna be contained with just one post so, Callowmoore stuff that's on rotisserie in my brain from ep.94
Long and deep looks at each other and a hug right off the bat!
When asked by Laudna if they were okay in ep. 91, Ashton deflected with 'say that again?' and 'are any of us?', but when Fearne asks they give a genuine answer and then also ask her how she's feeling, because she's been quiet and they care
Ashton, despite hurting when they're touched and exhausted so the chronic pain is as intense as the first time, still wanting to cuddle with Fearne - and feeling at ease when they do
And like, the way they were trying to articulate it implies that they've wanted to ask for quite some time, but the timing has been off or situations have gotten in the way, and they don't want to wait any longer
But also they don't ask if they can cuddle they ask if Fearne wants to; they want to, but they ask Fearne if she doesn't want to sleep alone, because her comfort is as important or more important than their own
Fearne given her past experiences with people of course thinks they mean the other kind of company, which she notes she does want (so that's not off the table) but asks if they could just cuddle - to which Ashton doesn't entirely deny either, but notes that they're tired and in a lot of pain right now so they too was asking for the same
Also the fact that Fearne, who has been in a threesome inside a corrupted haunted wood, will later flirt with a dark echo of herself, and spooned with a ghost pirate captain, got so flustered about asking Ashton that she just wants to cuddle
Despite the awkwardness they still just laugh and joke together through it, they're awkward but it's in a sweet way
All of Ashton's immediate action the second they realised Fearne was missing - similar to how they wanted to find her after the shard incident but this time in a position where they could take action - no nonsense, no pissing contest with Chetney about her scent being on their bed, "Find. Them. Now."
And then still being soft after seeing Fearne again, because all that matters right now is that she's still here. And another post I saw said it better but, Ashton never seeks to change or 'correct' parts of who Fearne is; she can still follow cute animals just next time bring a buddy along (which given how they were in bed together would imply meaning them), they love her for her, fae and all, they just want her to be safe
Not entirely ep. 94 but given how on 91 Ashton pointed out that they needed to sleep and 'figure out who they wanted to be', and then here ask Fearne to be there beside them so they could have someone to wake up to, it to me at least says a lot about what Ashton has already decided; and how despite both of them having dealt with grief and anger and helplessness by bottling it up, hiding away, and shouldering it alone, this time they both wanted to just feel at ease with each other
#callowmoore#ashton greymoore#fearne calloway#fearne x ashton#ashton x fearne#ashley johnson#taliesin jaffe#critical role#cr3#cr3 spoilers#c3e94#cr spoilers#bells hells#did I mention that I'm not normal about them because AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#shipper rotisserie brain go brrrrr#Orym's passive perception 'damnnn' was great too#I have been praying for 5 weeks for just a tiny bit of comfort between the two and I got a whole buffet!#I mean I trust Matt and narratively it was juicy but c'mon man you couldn't give them one night? The night of FCG blowing up??#I wonder: if Ashton was the big spoon would they have woke up with Fearne to join the walk/fight?#I ofc wish they returned to the same bed but she was extra exhausted - next time hopefully#Zathuda still needs to die - painfully - maybe they can do it together; steal his dragon and fancy cloak#Ludinus too - live show's a big stage (half expect Sam to debut his new player then) big post-fight kiss at Aeor maybe/please?#hopefully we can also see them pickpocketing each other again because it's their love language#but so is the softness and comfort and awkward giggling and innuendo#which is why I hate that most villains tend to look past/through Ashton - they don't see them but Fearne sees them; they see each other#tag reader bonus - Ashton always sleeps on Fearne's right: so she can see/poke their glass slab but also so their stone arm doesn't cut her
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
#clone wars#star wars#anakin skywalker#arc trooper fives#my art#i wanted to color this but then i gave up lol#i love how unclear it is wether or not ani has arms <3#up to interpretation ig#also sorry fives i cut you face in half forgive me ;-;#also there's a nice amount of flower language n there (its pretty heavyhanded lol) exept i dunno if the flowers are recognizable
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
" you can't cut someone arm cuz you love them "
disagree IF YA LOVE THEM CUT. THAT . ARM BITCH
#eda the owl lady#nimona ballister#nimona#the owl house#arm cutting is love#love language#gay#bisexual#cool people#best adoptive mom and dad
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
The acting in the walking dead is so good, like I genuinely forget that they’re actors😭
Like i’ve been watching a lot of videos on Body Language in Twd that really points out the good acting. Especially in S7 with Negan scenes it’s crazy.
#twd#the walking dead#i love twd i love twd i love twd i love twd#twd acting#acting#good acting#walking dead#I genuinely forget that it’s not real sometimes#like wdym these are ACTORS#WDYM that rick isn’t actually on his knees and begging to not have to cut carls arm off#RJs acting isn’t that good tho#Rick Grimes#lineup#Negan#body language
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yeah I'm totally fine. Yep. Oh yeah. Watched Nimona yesterday for the first time and...
WHY HAVE I NOT SEEN IT BEFORE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND
..ahem.
Is the original comic anything like the movie? If so, I need it and I needed it ten years ago.
#nimona#didn't totally lose my shit over the cutting an arm off is not love language#ballister x ambrosius#nimona i love you
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pt 22! (An actually sweet one!)
#utmv#oc#utmv sans#utmv oc#goldinsanity#from top to bottom:#N: WOA because she is my persona and that's one of my main Love Languages#Hap: Didn't get enough of that as a kid. really likes to assure people w/ this love language and also likes to recieve it ♡#Mono: similarly? Recieved a lot of WOA from Cross so he reciprocates that to others in his life#Orchid: Hates to be nice/kind but loyalty is important to her (ex. helping Reset because she loves him a lot). actions louder than words etc#Shotput: Similar to Orchid. Dream is AOS so he always follows in those footsteps. His trust is hard-won but if he does things for someone#then he loves them! (it hurt when Reset stopped letting him do things for him and cut him out of the plan)#Reset: Objects hold memories and sentiment (he wears his Brother's cloak) so a gift is with him forever#Pretender: In an AU where food in scarce he gives up a lot fir the people he loves. paps in particular#Ichor: Immortal. his mortal lovers/friends never ascend so he respects their wishes and spends as much time with people as he can#Lost: After so many memories down the drain he desperately wants to spend time with others. (ex. Haphazard sticking w/ him)#Stereo: Physical Affection is a big thing for him. he doesn't have physical arms anymore so he likes to be close to people#ex. leaning on them or nudging them. if he leans on a person then they're friends
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quite funny and sweet to see Ballister and Ambrosius be absolute losers in love with each other.
#nimona#everyone can see it like they try so hard to be cool and professional#but ballister panicking at seeing ambrosius and fretting about love language#and ambrosius he does not do freestyle jazz fretting too about love language bcos cutting off your bf’s arm is not romantic
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Literally just recorded a 40 minute video for @caffeinatedopossum showing off some things that I like and going through some stuff I forgot existed in my room and generally just being happy and sharing information because that is my love language.
Anyways it's 4 gigabytes...
#lmao nimona and ambrosias “cutting arms off is nOT a loVE LANgUAgE#just tism things#he literally makes me so safe I just wanna gush to him all the time cus i know he genuinely appreciates it <3
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey, so I watch Nimona. My brain literally did this today. Stay with me now
Taking out someone's arm is a love language. it's weird that it happened twice but you know. I would have two very shiny nickles.
#tony stark#bucky barnes#winteriron#Arm Cutting is a love language#Like#Ultron is definitely Nimona#OR Rogue
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just watched Nimona
I haven't watched it enough to remember anyone's name, (Sans Nimona obviously) I watched it with my Grams and i quote "they're putting it into cartoons now? Why do they need to have two guys kiss in a cartoon! Children are watching this!" My grandma not fifteen minutes later "why couldn't those two dudes have been girls? Thats so much nicer than two guys, they should have made those two girls"
also, apparently being gay is just as bad as incest in my grandmas eyes...
anYWAY. Its a good movie you should watch it if you haven't already, and if you have go watch it again for a good measure. Just to let it really sink in how bad ass this Movie was. Metal as all shit. Have a good day and don't blow up your city.
#nimona#their gay your honor#Shes a fuckin Bad ass.#Incest is bad#Being gay is OK!#I in fact am gay#My grandma told me that she loves me but I should stick with dudes.#Nah I think I Should have a blond girlfriend who cuts off my arm#ITS THE NEW LOVE LANGUAGE#Totally better than two dudes kissing.#if you are two dudes and you do in fact kiss#you are awesome and can you adopt me?
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Take a bite out of my sight
Chapter Summary
Next Page ±±±±
Highland breezes by the counting of the afternoon, as a turquoise-dressed figure herded a few baby goats spawning by the edge of the cliff.
Downwards off the rocky blanketed cliff, theirs a bump of forest filled with cherry trees, with a shoveled pathway leading downwards to the more paved mountain on a graveled pathway.
Birch and oak Trees were forest coloured the greenery. with a few axes and a small meadow opening that only shows a building exoskeleton of stone pillars. black blocky ravens flew up to the trees.
Down onto the big gradient cobblestone staircase for many donkeys and villagers to get around. with the scratching of a cat running away from the bottom of the stairs messing with hooves of the donkey to yelp and kneel to the dismay but worry of the two villagers handling the donkey. You'd always need to take a step down touch a graze of grass, or look closer into a pond, with ramps for carrying a ravaged ton without them rolling down. But that wouldn't hurt the ravager that much unless you tell the ravager to feel pain from it.
Scattered laughing and the echo in the timbered trees by those with axes who aren't lumberjacks in flannel having a gay ol' time. Those with axes had different attires.
Another echo of the scuttled laugh follows the rumbling echo of the tree, causing a packager to drop a package.
Onlookers were sitting at the balconied rosewood fences, with the far right being oak with decorated bleachers of vines. watch the poor package delivery villager trip in the middle of the village, with the ominous shading of darkness from the forest sending a shiver to the packager when the high branches were cracking from something bigger.
The bristles of branches break from the omen-striking banner. Those that fell on top of the indicator head were pushed off, or thrown away by intricately cuffed gloves of vexes. Escaping the branching in the clearing, and looking around into the forest before the eye moves up to a well-built wall... Carved out beautifully.
The Villager Unemployed mob, with mountain patterns on their robe and a brown collar to signify unemployment, sits at a single table by their fenced balcony. They were sitting at a single table by the fenced balcony, peeking out to greet a banner. Cracking their glasses, were metal 'armour' for the banners edgs against wind.
"Heugh," The Vindicator looks straight up, at a Villager's sharp eyes at the leaning by the wall, arms crossed. Their collar was based on pink terracotta, and their tool belt signified business ownership with their emerald. And as many smart working business owners who got to the top. They speed-walked up the stairs, grabbing the Pakager collar as other villagers looked on.
The Villagers stay seated, looking across at each other at the dragged packager. Pity, the package might have been important. Servagers go on with their job, with a shiver and frozen body realization too. Well if you were the one serving pie to the client who ordered 'Goats Rasberry Eye' and 'Demonic Goats Eye Pried' if everyone needed to pretend they were demons when fae came around and burnt (Not on purpose like most cheesecake, but they aren't allowed to tell you that).
"Uhm, it, may I get you a glass of ice."
The metal bridge of pushing back their glasses, the clank of the platter of pie, chair shoved back. The Servager boots clacked away with dust or dirt clattered behind them, as the villager's knee bent down next to the fence to reach down like a snake to a messenger crow.
A ravager horn drops, but the Vindicator's eyes widen at the villager pulling up their face. Launching their mouth right underneath their inner eye, like mice, and then there was a snap. The illager's right brain felt like shutting off from all senses.
The Villagers moved themselves back from the fence to the sun over the forest horizon. The trickle of blood fell down their cheek even more as the string of meaty blood dangled in the breeze in between a Villagers teeth.
A clank of glass filled with ice reflected onto the sun, and it reflected onto the goat's horn. The passing Servagor freaked out, stepping back at the unconventional rage.
With fear pressing the Vindicator's throat, like prey. They ended up holding themselves in the air, the fear in their eye visible to all who could see. On the horizon, the small swaying of the trees mimicked the sticky string of blood that hung from their high cheekbones. The fear in their eye, the little trickle of trees mimics the stickier bloodied string.
Cherry blossoms burned on their face, unlike a sunburnt crisp Illager, unlike them they still look like a delighted Illager in warmed tones of fear of the serpent's sun.
Wedding bells ring in their head, as they wobble down on the saddle, back arched up and elevating their head by the bite. arched up and elevated their head by the bite. [In a bar they wonder why the bell was rung.’]
They felt a grasp on the neck of a snake untangling themselves from their chokehold to take a deep breath. Their adrenaline heated up to their cheeks. The salty tears fall with pressure and pain trying so hard to let tears go out that it pains them. They continued to bleed, the red liquid dripping down to their saddle and under their shin to the strapped belt of their formal Indicator attire. dripped down to their saddle and under their shin to the strapped belt of their formal indicator attire.
Everything seems to be tinted by rose gradients, from their face to the horizon gradient. The colder breeze passed them and they couldn't feel the sun's heat on the back of their head. The Illager had held their hand to their cheek, coating their glove. Deadpanned silence with the munching of the forest life hunger, watching the villager take a bite out of the pie.
They felt like a fox that never wanted the crow to drop their own eye. Watching that Villager through the pink fence, waiting for a response, they had watched them take a bite out of an eye. Realizing they subconsciously reached for their chest to clench, wrinkling their clothes. Being able to hear their panting and winds noisy breeze. Their flushed faces moved from tint to tint, in fading shades of doozies from their flushing face flushing out more blood them.
Observing the architectural stonework, the chairs seemed inspired by dessert temple creepers' drawings, the sunset looked like it was tempered by the sunset.
Gulping down some saliva, feeling drier than the blood staining their saddle, they arched themselves back from picking up their goat horn
Their Ravager looked up at their rider, turning around and walking back into the shrubbery of the forest, paying no mind to the banner scraping the fence on the wall. The Illager tightly adjusted themselves back onto their ravager and held the reins. Seeming like an amateur rider.
#when the fanfic blogs fanfic#fanfic fanatic#minecraft#illager#minecraft oc#minecraft illager#minecraft villager#villager#vindicator#unemployed#middle aged characters#finnished writing unfinnished set up#minecraft villager oc#minecraft illager oc#minecraft fanfiction#mineblr#beta read#unconventional meet cute#meet cute#writing#accidentally original meet cute ideda doese anyone know a writing where the love intrest gets their bite taken out of ands dates#Cutting of an arm is not a love language!#BITE OF 87!!!#references#my writing#my thoughts#intense
1 note
·
View note
Text
✦ When someone tries to imitate you or take your place
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone
(tw: general mentions of violence and intimacy, swf. Old ask suggested by the lovely @pandaquick, better late than never)
Your position in the Fatui is a much more personal and delicate matter. You are not just some high-rank advisor or soldier idling within the Zapolyarny Palace, nor can you be defined as another Fatuus. You are someone of a different echelon - a Harbinger’s beloved, safeguarded with the utmost honor conferred by Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It is no secret your significant other would utilize a whole army to protect you, but what happens when someone, in their foolishness, forgets that?
✧ Pierro was the first to notice that someone tried to imitate you. An individual of high status endeavored to emulate your work and areas of expertise. Subsequently, this individual began to adopt aspects of your appearance, from hairstyle to clothing. However, the breaking point occurred when this foolish person attempted to purchase an identical jewelry brooch to the one you frequently wore. It was a similar piece, one gifted to you by Pierro.
Except that imitator missed one important clue - Pierro orders you custom-made silver adorned with deep-cut sapphires that would put the Tsaritsa’s crown into shame. A one of a kind piece.
This cheap attempt to imitate you and usurp your spot was what forced The Jester to abandon his silent observation. His gaze has long caught the envious glances directed towards you whenever you accompanied him on meetings, whenever he linked his arm with yours, whenever he generously kneeled beside you to put his coat over your shoulder and keep you warm from Snezhnaya’s cold - the same individual, always seething with resentment. Thus, it was time for the Director to silently act.
He kept tabs on this person via a network of spies, gathering intel on their behavior and intentions. And with the most skilled spies raised from the House of the Hearth, it didn't take long to have a whole pile of evidence right on his desk. And with the simple snap of his fingers, he effortlessly orchestrated the apprehension and subsequent banishment of the culprit, sparing no unnecessary words. Hearsay will not be tolerated in the Fatui, but to see some lowly scum tarnish your reputation by cheap mimicry then it’ll be his responsibility to weed out.
“Pierro, dearest, What's wrong? You seem so deep in thought.” - Your gentle murmur broke The Jester's train of thought. As he lay in bed, your head resting on his chest and his arm draped over you, he reminded himself that he was in the comfort of your love. He doesn't have to mull over the bloodied ordinances when he feels the warmth of your skin underneath the covers.
“Apologize, my divine. It seems my mind was drifting to troubling thoughts. But it no longer matters when you're here.” - Thus, he gently planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked the covers around your body which harbored marks of his devotion earlier that night.
✧ Il Capitano clutched the hilt of his sword in resolution. Something was wrong and he could see it. The Harbinger was in the middle of his morning spar with you, a regular training session where you and the Captain warm up as a routine. He stood in a defensive stance, his movements fluid yet measured as his sword received blow after blow from your weapon. You, on the other hand, moved like a silent tempest, your strikes precise yet frustratingly urgent.
It was unlike you to be so unsteady, noted Capitano to himself, especially when fighting. Despite the unspoken patience, an undercurrent of concealed despondency and anger laced your body language.
“Alright, my dear, I can feel your unease. What troubles your heart?”
You shook your head, panting as you almost faltered. You insisted on continuing the training session, but it was clear your brave facade was almost crumbling.
“It would be foolish to continue. And I care about your well-being. Please, confide in me, my beloved.”
You tried, you really did. But before you know it, your lips pursed into a thin line and a flood of tears escaped the moment you shakily lowered your weapon. Now the Captain was on full alert, rushing towards you and gently supporting you before you could hide your tearful face in shame. With an arm around your trembling form and much persuasion - you relented and shared the source of your frustration. A newly enlisted soldier had undergone thorough training under the tutelage of Il Capitano, and their impressive advancement was unmistakably evident in their unwavering dedication. However, this individual began to devote more time to the Captain, delving into military intelligence and climbing the ranks. You genuinely felt joy for the new recruit, truly. Yet in timid humiliation, you had to confess you felt obsolete as if your power alone wasn’t enough for a harbinger of his caliber and ranks.
“Ah, my dear, you are far from weak. My time with the trainees is merely a duty, a part of my job as the 1st Harbinger. But when it comes to you, my dear, your might and wisdom are incomparable. You don’t deserve my ranks, you deserve my life laid before you.”
But whatever gentle words of affection were coming out of the Captain, your next words of truth made him halt at once. “... At least, that’s what the recruit told me when we spoke. That I'm weak.”
“...What did you say?”
The gentle armored hand on your shoulder now tightened in restrained anger, fury flaring within his chest. Capitano now understood: your tears, your sudden insecurity, your doubt, your silence… It wasn’t coincidental. This recruit who was so conveniently rising in the ranks made sure to aim not just for the Harbinger. Specifically, you; to sow self-doubt onto you and hinder your precious relationship. Someone was deliberately bullying you.
You looked up at Capitano’s dreadful silence, asking him what was wrong.
“It… seems, my dear, someone has crossed an unforgivable line. One that would cost them their life dearly. And I am to blame for not noticing when harm and doubt came your way. I must amend this transgression for your forgiveness.”
You blinked in response, not having time to comprehend the severity of his words; It’s hard to respond when your beloved suddenly kneels and bows like a knight on duty. In the end, Capitano ushered you to take a day off and let your mind rest easy.
The next day, Capitano returned home early but was eerily silent once more. He stayed with you the whole day, like a hawk overlooking his nest, his arms crossed but his touch gentle. Although he claimed nothing was wrong, you received news that certain recruits were gone, and any upcoming soldiers that would come into his care would receive even stricter training from now on. That day, you wondered why some Fatui soldiers feared talking to you. Not to mention the armor around Capitano’s knuckles seemed faintly red-tinted.
The Fatui organization was a constant battle of powers and ranks. But to climb the ladder and meddle with the life of The Captain was a personal offense, one that would result in quick and unapologetic bloodshed. Nevertheless, he made sure to remind his soldiers about that.
✧ When one of the folks working under Il Dottore as a lab analyst approached you, you didn’t expect them to call you names so suddenly. You stood there, confused and apprehensive at the sudden barrage of insults from the stranger. But they explained:
“You don’t do anything when helping during research, you know! I don’t even know how The 2nd tolerates you when you’re this useless. I’ll tell you what, quit your special-treatment act, and don’t come back to the lab. The Doctor is better off with someone of his level of intellect.”
You didn’t fight or defend yourself, you didn’t even insult the assistant. Instead, you smiled simply - “Very well, I won’t. Good luck.”
That day, you turned and left. The frustrated lab analyst was left in confusion but thought they succeeded in eliminating the only obstacle left to get closer to the elusive yet powerful Harbinger. After all, what the hell do you even do at his lab? You exchange a few words with Dottore, maybe sporadically point at what to do, and remain seated in the back, resting as if you were the Tsaritsa herself. The audacity. How come Il Dottore never kicked you out?
Well, it didn't take long for this person to find out.
The next day, naturally, Dottore couldn’t find you when he proceeded with work. You were neither at his study, nor at the lab, nor at your favorite corner of the library. It was barely noon, and receiving your warm greetings was his routine. And the Doctor always follows the agenda.
“Where are they?”
His question was brief but pointed, and his subordinates knew exactly who he was referring to. They could sense the tension in his voice. The only individual privy to the reason for your absence smirked smugly and responded.
“Hmph. It seems they decided not to come, Lord Harbinger Dottore.”
That was their first mistake because The Doctor caught on to the haughty smirk coming from his new analyst.
“And you know so certainly how?” - he quickly gestured to a nearby Fatui servant with a flick of his wrist. “Send in servants to check in on my behalf. I wasn’t informed. If my darling is feeling tired or unwell, bring their preferred refreshment immediately, and ensure it is warm.”
However, this displeased the new lab assistant, as even while you were away, Dottore was still dotting on you as if it was his second nature to do so while he was busy with work. Thus, they cleared their throat and spoke up:
“They… barely accomplished anything in your presence, doctor. So I advised them to leave, to which they agreed. Pretty straightforward, s-sir.”
“Oh? Did you, now” - A burning rage, like never before, flared up within Il Dottore. With clenched teeth and a rigid jaw, his voice oozed with venom. But any seasoned lackey working under Dottore knew that this was the calm before the storm. Because soon, an echo of shattering vials and slammed objects would ring out from the laboratory. And in your absence, nothing would prevent the doctor from showing a bit of despotism.
Much later that evening, after everything was set and done, the servants informed him of your whereabouts. Il Dottore briskly made his way through the Zapolyarny Palace to find you. Spotting you tucked away in a secluded nook of the palace, he hastened over, anxious to ensure your well-being, fearing you might’ve withdrawn due to the influence of some blabbering lowlife.
“Dear! There you are… No one has the right to speak to you like that ever. Are you alright? My dearest, why did you not tell me immediately?! I would’ve-”
Dottore’s frustrated rambles come to a halt when you place a finger on his lips to shush him. You didn’t look despaired, in fact, you looked calm - “Zandik? Did you have another tantrum in your lab while I was absent?”
The doctor gulped, remembering his place. Calming his senses, he placed his hands on your waist and ushered you closer to his arms.
“... Perhaps. But I had to. How could I be certain that no one had harmed you? Why did you comply with that impudent fool? You should’ve gone to me first.”
“Well, it was unpleasant to hear the insults, sure. But…" - you glanced apologetically and a knowing smile returned to your lips. "I knew you'd find out and deal with the issue very quickly."
✧ You and Pantalone were an odd couple. You didn't hail from a rich background, nor were you well-versed in the art of business and finance. You were more proficient in adventuring, your travels taking you to all sorts of journeys and commissions, a polar opposite from your beloved Pantalone. This led to raised eyebrows among the aristocrats of Snezhnaya. How can the richest man of Teyvat, who lives and works in prestige, be associated with such a simple person as you? For some, this gave the impression that they had a better chance of winning him over.
Thus, once upon a night, Pantalone was invited to a luxurious soirée. Here he was, clad in his finest suit, silver rings complementing his equally expensive optics. But to the Regrator, the jewelry adorning him was the least of his concerns - because you were the most precious gem in this gala. You accompanied him, although reluctantly, feeling out of place amidst the grand assembly of extravagant guests and the languid orchestra.
“Pantalone, do we have to…? I know you said this is not a business party, but there are so many guests already lining up to talk to you.”
“Oh do not fret, my sweet. Evening galas like these are where the real negotiation and connections entail. But I know the details bore you, so I promise we won't stick here for too long. Besides, I get to introduce you as my one and only!”
That's exactly what you were afraid of. As a company of some esteemed noble ladies adorning elegant gowns, you had difficulties matching Pantalone’s polite smile. Overwhelmed by the scrutinizing gazes of some guests, you politely excused yourself to the bathroom. Pantalone was concerned, thinking of following you, but that was exactly what the guests wanted.
You spent a long while by the hallway alone, trying to stabilize your breathing. The muttering of guests enjoying drinks and strolling was faint, but you could hear some people nearby:
“How can the 9th be with someone like them…? Surely it’s a joke.”
“A charming, rich man like him, and he can have anyone he desires. Yet he wastes his time on a simpleton?”
“Someone was definitely in it for the Mora, maybe he hasn’t seen real class. Quick, let’s go talk to him while he is alone.”
You stood with your back to a wall, and for the first time, uncertainty crept in. With fists clenched by your side, you reprimanded yourself that you are not alone. You came here with your significant other - and he, above all else, knows that gossip has no place in your shared private life. Hence, gathering up your courage, you raise your head high and strode back into the gala.
Pantalone, unfortunately yet expectedly, was surrounded by the same foul-mouthed nobles who wished to impress him. They prattled on about his financial success, while ladies fanned their folding fans and stood too close for his comfort. While they humored him, The Regrator cast hurried glances around the gala in search of you. Where are you?
“Lord Harbinger, may we offer you more champagne? I am sure this expensive bottle is up to your taste.”
The 9th attempted to hide his frown at the woman's tone, his stomach unwilling to ingest any drink some excessively elaborate name. “No thank you, I’d rather decline. I am waiting for my dear. I promised her a dance later this evening.”
“Oh, please sir, I insist. The night is young and there is plenty more for-”
Before the woman could continue, your voice cut through the air; calm, yet unmistakably firm. “He said no. Simple enough to understand.”
A hush fell over the gathered guests, the weight of your words settling like a sudden gust. Only Pantalone beamed with a genuine smile. “Ah, dear! There you are,”. The Harbinger was about to step back towards you, when the same lady suddenly blocked his path, her back facing him while her tone edged with defiance.
“I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid the question is directed towards Lord Harbinger Pantalone. I am sure you wouldn't know the pleasure of tasting a 500,000 Mora champagne from Fontaine.”
You recognized the snark in her tone directed towards you, and you couldn’t deny the anxiety twisting in your gut as eyes narrowed in your direction. However, with a shake of your head, you reminded yourself who you truly are and simply said: “Sheesh, lady, you spend that much on a drink that tastes worse than sparkling water? To each their own, I presume”
Her smile vanished. The guests stared in stunned silence, but it was Pantalone’s genuine laughter that pierced the tension. The sound was rich and real—because only he knew how adept you were at humbling an overconfident aristocrat with a dose of blunt truth. That’s how Pantalone managed to push through the crowd and circle his arm back around your waist, leaving the astonished onlookers behind.
“Ah dear, you’re a savior. I apologize I dragged us into this unpleasant company…” - he confined to you apologetically as you two walked away. “You always knew how to be sincere in your honest way.”
“It’s not like I meant to pick up a fight…" - you sighed. "I simply couldn't bear the humiliation, Pantalone. I'm aware that some people give me strange looks when I'm with you. They regard me as if I'm some peasant standing next to a powerful Fatui harbinger. That I'm nothing. That's why I couldn’t just hide, I had to step up to defend myself.”
“Oh, darling… My sweet, precious darling.” - The two of you left the manor that hosted the soiree, the chill night breeze muting the faint sound of guests and replacing it with a symphony of cricket noise from the garden nearby. Pantalone's fingers intertwined with yours.
"You are not just 'nothing' - you're my everything. You did not come from riches, and neither did I. You of all people know that. Would I really hold respect for some rich fool who didn't know an ounce of hardship when Mora was all they had since birth? No, dear, I wouldn't."
With a tender hand, he rested his palm on your waist, gently guiding you along the cobblestone path as if leading you into a slow waltz by garden roses in the night.
"Besides, you should never be ashamed to seek out my help. Although I must admit... Your tone earlier - oh my. Use it on me more often, darling. I wouldn't mind."
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#pierro x reader#il capitano x reader#capitano x reader#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#il dottore x you#pantalone x reader#pantalone x you#slight yandere#yandere dottore#yandere dottore x reader#dottore x reader fluff#capitano x reader fuff#genshin impact fatui#fatui x reader#fatui harbingers x reader#fatui harbingers#gender neutral reader#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fanfics#tw mentions of violence#genshin pierro#capitano#il capitano#genshin dottore#il dottore#dottore
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
#cod mw#simon riley#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ride it
ft/ kento nanami x f!reader, hiromi higuruma x f!reader
summary/ you love to take care of your overworked husband
wc/ 2.6k (1.4k + 1.2k)
KENTO NANAMI
You were patiently watching the TV on the sofa when the door opened and the figure of your husband appeared. You automatically smiled as you bit your lower lips, already putting your slippers on as you stood up.
“Honey, I’m home.”
Kento said with a wearable expression and voice, taking off his shoes and putting his briefcase to the ground as you approached him.
Yet, when his brown eyes fell on you, they immediately softened. A little smile formed on his lips as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him with a grin.
“Hey handsome, what’s with the tired face ?”
Kento’s hands grabbed your hips as he rested his face in the crook of your neck, his deep sigh made you shiver.
You giggled softly at his silent answer, grabbing his face and kissed the edge of his lips.
“Aw, is my lovely husband’s work too hard ? Is it exhausting ?”
You said to tease him, and he surprisingly nodded. Usually, Kento didn’t like when you talked to him like that. Like he was a baby. Kento was a grown man, who protected you and provided you everything you needed.
But when he was tired ? Oh, he just wanted to be your baby.
He gently grabbed your wrist to kiss your palm, kissing your forearm all the way to your shoulder.
“You can’t imagine,”
Kento muttered between heated kisses in your neck.
“How long today was. And you only made it worse.”
You chuckled, raising one brow as his lips trailed down your collarbone.
“I made it worse ? How’s that ?”
He lifted his head and you met his darkened gaze, making you swallow hard with anticipation. His fingers somehow found their ways under your shirt, caressing your back.
“Your body. Your skin. Your face. Your scent. It’s been on my mind all day, sweetheart. Hard to concentrate with all that.”
He whispered in a deep voice against your parted lips. Your hands found his hair, and you pulled him closer.
“Is that so ?”
You answered, reciprocating the lust in his voice before he crashed your lips together.
Kento let out a long growl as he kissed you passionately, your tongues dancing with each other. He bit your lower lips before licking it, and kissed you again. Soon you were out of breath, and pulled away with a grin.
He frowned a little, an amused expression on his face at your grin.
“What is it ?”
He remarked, his fingers caressing your cheekbones as you grabbed his tie.
“I have the perfect idea for reliving your stress.”
You retorted in a low voice as you started to walk backward toward the sofa, still grabbing his tie. He soon understood what this ‘idea’ was, and he inhaled deeply as you pushed him on the couch.
“If it’s only because I said I was tired, no need to force yourself to do it honey-”
He started but you cut him with another kiss, sitting on his lap as his hands automatically found your hips.
“Nonsense, if I ever say no to your dick, then it’s not me.”
You mumbled in his neck, leaving kisses on every inches of his skin. He tilted his head back to leave you more space, and let out a sigh at the feeling of your lips on him.
His hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it at your dirty word.
“Language, young lady.”
You chuckled against him, making him shiver as he closed his eyes.
After a long day of work, Kento could easily come just by your kisses.
“Not fair, you always talk dirty with me.”
You whispered before facing him, satisfied with his expression.
“Because you like it.”
He replied, and his breath stopped for one second when he felt your hands working to take his belt off.
“You love when I talk dirty too,” you said as you took his belt off. “I can feel it, liar.”
You proved your argument with your hand, caressing his bulge under you, still grinning.
Indeed, seeing his cute little wife talking dirty was a kink he didn’t know he loved.
You didn’t break the eye contact as your hand made its way inside his pants, pulling out his already hard cock.
Kento exhaled from his nose as you started to stroke it slowly, watching every change on his face with pride.
It’s when your thumb caressed his tip, leaking with pre-cum already, that a little sound exited his lips.
“Let me take care of you, hum ?”
You whispered, enjoying his dick growing larger at your words.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.” You left his cock for a few seconds to take your sweatpants off, then positioned your entrance in front of his tip. “I just wanna ride all your problems away.”
Yet you had difficulty putting his cock in because he was just so fucking huge.
Kento watched the show with a little smirk, tilting his head to the side as his hands grabbed your hips firmly.
“Need my help there, darling ?”
With an amused expression he pulled you down on his cock in one thrust.
You both let out a deep groan —you for how good he was filling you and him for how tight you were.
Grabbing his shoulders, you positioned yourself until it reached this spot inside you.
You rested your head in the crook of his neck, and with his hands still on your waist, you started to slowly ride his length.
He let out an inaudible curse as his head fell backward, letting you do all the work. At first, you winced a little from the pain this position gave you, but you quickly got used to it as you let out small whimpers.
You were taking him so well, your walls clenching around him as you fastened your pace.
Your ass started to slap against his balls and thighs as you took him deeper, his cock reaching your g-spot at every thrust.
You straightened yourself as you continued to jump on his dick, biting your lips with closed eyes from the sensation.
“Open your eyes, love,” Kento clarified, panting. “Look how naughty you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You let out a long moan at his words, opening your eyes as your lips flew above his.
You were supposed to be the dirty talker, but the pleasure was so good you couldn’t even speak.
“Good girl.”
Your walls clenched around him at his praise, making him moan too. You could feel yourself coming closer to the orgasm, your pace slowing.
His grip on your hips became more firm as he let out a dark chuckle, licking his lips.
“Tired ?”
He teased you, but he knew it was because the pleasure was too much.
Blond locks got stuck to his forehead due to sweat, and he took matters into his own hands.
You were no longer riding him —you were so close reaching your climax that you just didn’t have enough strength anymore— but he was the one making you ride him.
His grip on you tightened even more as he made your body go down on his cock, letting out a groan at each deep thrust.
Now you’ll remember that, if you ever try to top Kento again, he’ll always find a way to dominate you.
He was the first to come, painting your walls white in a deep and long groan as he continued to move his dick inside you. A few seconds later, you came too while closing your eyes.
“A-ah , ken.” You whimpered, seeing stars as you both stopped your movements.
You fell on his chest, breathing heavily, as a small smile materialized on your face.
He swallowed hard, panting as well, but he hadn’t moved his cock yet. It was still sensitive. But his hands caressed your back as he kissed the top of your hair.
“You did wonderful, honey.”
You straightened your back, looking at him with eyes filled with pride and love.
“I hope it helped with your exhausting day.” You leaned in and pecked his cheek. “I liked it.”
He chuckled softly, lifting your body a little to take his cock out of you as he stood up.
“You like everything.”
He added, lifting you in a bridal style as you gently gave a punch to his chest.
“That’s not true, I don’t like coconut.”
Kento shook his head as he walked toward the bathroom, kissing your forehead.
“I know, love.”
HIROMI HIGURUMA
You smiled happily as you entered the law building, your light sundress illuminating the gloomy hall.
You greeted the secretary before entering the elevator, clicking the button for your husband’s level.
You took a glance at the lunch box you made just for him, hoping you didn’t forget anything at home.
Sometimes you bring lunch to Hiromi, well, it’s not like he had time to take a break and eat. But you didn’t complain; you liked seeing him at work.
Knocking at his office’s door, you opened the door when you heard his faint ‘enter.’ Closing the door behind you, you looked at him, whose attention was on a file in front of him.
He didn’t even look up.
“What can I do for you ?”
He mumbled unbothered, and you let out a small chuckle before walking to his desk.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe acknowledge that your wife is here ?”
You teased him, and the moment he heard your voice, his head rose immediately and his face lightened.
“My love..”
He said in a sigh before standing up and walking to you. It was such a relief for him to see you, with all the work to do. You chuckled again as he hugged you, inhaling your scent as you rubbed his back.
“Easy there, something happened?”
You joked as he grabbed your face in his palms, kissing your forehead. He stayed silent for a few seconds, admiring your wide smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I missed you.”
He mumbled again, gently grabbing your hand to kiss your finger. Exactly where your wedding ring was.
“You saw me this morning, Hiromi.”
He took the lunch box in your hand before pecking your lips.
“It wasn’t enough.”
He walked back to his desk as he put the lunch box on it, and you followed him while shaking your head like a love-sick teenager.
He sat on his chair and made you know with his hand to come closer. He grabbed your hips as you positioned yourself between his legs, looking down at him with the same joyful expression.
He let out a long sigh as he rested his forehead on your stomach, just enjoying the intimate moment between you two.
You caressed his hair, grabbing his face with your soft palms.
“Are you tired ? I told you not to overwork yourself.”
You said in a soothing voice while he leaned in your touch, closing his eyes with his hand above yours.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s just that I want to help the people in need .”
You sighed, kissing his forehead.
“But you can’t take every case, baby. Look how exhausted you are.”
He smiled, his traits softening.
“Thank you for caring about me. I promise I’ll try to work less. Now..”
You let out a small gasp as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap, his hands grabbing your ass. You giggled, holding his shoulders to keep on his lap.
His eyes examined how the sundress enhanced your curves, and you felt him moving his lower body.
“Is that a new dress ? I never saw it on you before.”
He said in a low voice, his fingertips caressing your spine, and it made you shiver.
“Yes, it was on sale. And I know you love this color on me. You like it ?”
You said this while biting your lips and tilted your head back when you felt his lips on your neck.
He kissed your neck gently, his tongue teasing your skin. He went higher, just under your ear. Your sensitive place.
“Of course I like it. It makes me want to rip it off.”
You chuckled before pulling his face away, feeling his bulge under you.
“Alright, dirty talker. Eat your lunch, then we’ll see what I can do about that.”
His eyes darkened, and he pulled you in for a kiss. Hiromi let out a groan before his tongue entered your mouth.
You deepened the kiss by leaning closer to him, gasping for air as your tongues fought against each other.
Biting his lip before pulling away, you chuckled slightly.
“Lunch, Hiromi.”
He let out another disappointed sound before wrapping one muscular arm around your waist to keep you steady on his lap, and his free hand leaned in to grab the lunch box you brought.
He ate quickly, and each times you were about to tell him to go slower, he only gave you a glance full of lust.
And you kept your mouth closed each time.
A few moments later, he finished to eat and put the box back on his desk. You inhaled deeply, feeling your pussy starting to get wet only from the anticipation.
His grip on your waist tightened as he kissed you again. This time more aggressive, more passionate. Your saliva was dripping on your chin as you felt his hands slipped under your dress to squeeze your thighs.
It wasn’t the first time you and he had sex in his office, and it wasn’t going to be the last time either. You both loved how risky it was.
Out of breath, you broke the kiss as your hands were already inside his pants, stroking his length through his boxer.
He let out a hiss as he closed his eyes, licking his lips.
You smirked, kissing his cheek as you pulled his cock out. Stroking it slowly, your smirk widened at the pre-cum on his tip.
You felt his fingers putting your panties to the side, and you gasped a little when fresh air hit your bare pussy.
Hiromi opened his eyes, holding the back of your neck as you put the tip into your entrance.
Then you slowly went down, biting your lips from the pain due to how big he was.
His head fell backward as he felt your warm cunt around him, his breathing heavier.
“Damn, just what I needed…”
He inhaled sharply from his nose as his forehead fell on your chest, and you started to ride him.
Your slow pace didn’t last, you were now riding him like it was the last time. Your ass clapping on him echoed in the office as you let out small whimpers.
“Shhh.”
Hiromi shushed your noises with his mouth, not even kissing you, just pressing your lips against each other.
“We don’t want my coworkers hearing your lovely moans, now do we ?
You nodded, your eyes rolling back from the waves of pleasure each time his cock reached your g-spot. The lawyer let out a deep groan, his parted lips flying above yours as you rode him faster.
He closed his eyes when you fastened your pace, feeling himself coming closer to his climax. Hiding your face in his neck, you came with your body shaking.
He didn’t last longer either when he felt your walls clenching around him, and came inside you. You stopped to move, panting as you tried to calm yourself.
Hiromi chuckled slightly as he rubbed your back gently, kissing your cheek.
“Wanna stay here with me ? You’re not going out of this office in this state, sweetheart.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, nodding. You knew he wasn’t going to be long for you, and that his day would soon be over.
So you simply stayed here, his cock buried in you as he grabbed his files to get back to work.
He occasionally kissed your jaw, telling you how good you were to him and that he loved you.
#yxxdel ꩜#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x fem!reader#jjk nanami#jjk higuruma#jjk kento#jjk hiromi#jjk fanfic#jjk oneshot#jjk headcanons#kento nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanami x reader#Nanami smut#nanami kento x you#kento smut#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x y/n#hiromi higuruma x reader#hiromi higuruma x you#hiromi x reader#hiromi x you#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma x reader#higuruma smut#hiromi smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
one of your girls / ln4
part one
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
part two
you are just one of his girls. a frequent regular. but something changes, and you are his favorite.
a/n ⋯ how do i explain myself...? guess i can't! this will be divided into two parts for the sake of dramatics, and truthfully i can't contain my excitement to share this with you all. reader's dresses are left to be ambiguous for your imagination, only the cut of the dress is described (perhaps a color, once, but i forget); as usual, it is always up to YOU what you are wearing;) i will be focusing on requests before the next part comes out!
inspiration ⋯ VIDEO
warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), oral(m!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, but not here; non monogamous (yet), insecure reader.
wc ⋯11.3k (unedited.)
your phone rang in from your bag, the vibration shocking you from your conference room in new york. you had been visiting there for your job, meeting with clients, and overall needing to schmooze the entire fucking office. you were sick of it at this point.
and it was sunday, too. who works on a fucking sunday? you. because what’s life without the overtime pay?
until you saw lando’s contact card lighting up your screen. you blushed, instantly, thinking of just how a week ago he had you laid out on his monaco penthouse, screaming and weeping his name while he fucked you rabidly.
you answered, clearing your throat.
“hello?”
“i won! i won!” he shouted, the background noise of crowds drowning out the baritone of his voice. you raised a brow, but were quick to connect the dots. you’d been so busy with work that you’d forgotten that the race must’ve been over, you were only able to watch the beginning before you were swooped up into a meeting.
your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stepped into your office, shutting the door. you couldn’t be loud, and tears began to welt in your eyes. “did you really?”
“yes, yes! god, i’ve wanted this so bad…” he was absolutely full of rile and cheer. you could hear that from his voice clear as day. you were so happy for him. you wiped a stray tear that fell down your face and rolled to your chin.
“i’m so happy for you, lan.” you breathed, laughing when your voice hitched with emotion. you knew that he caught it, letting out his own gasp at your retention.
“you cryin’ for me?” he said your name, know damn well he had a cheeky smirk on his face. you scoffed, rolling your eyes and even he could hear the action.
“shut up. let me be happy for you.” he laughed again, deep and rich, but relieved that you picked up the phone. it was hard for him to get your attention, though you felt vice versa.
“let me be happy, then,” your brows raised at what he meant. “come to miami. tonight.”
you froze, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your work shirt. “lando…” you sighed. “you know i can’t…”
“please…!” he whined into the phone.
your resilience to him was not good. clearly.
“call my boss.” you heard him yip and pop his lips. he was giddy and thrilled that you accepted his advances. it never did take much, though, did it?
you hung up the phone before you could say anything else and settled back into your temporary station before you were back in monaco full time. the office here was more than sufficient and, you couldn’t help but thank god that you were here when lando called. the flight to miami wouldn’t be more than three hours.
your boss knocked on the door a few minutes later with her brows raised.
she spoke her name and you perked up. “you didn’t tell me you had family in miami,” she said, crossing her arms. but she wasn’t angry.
“i do.” the lie was swift. but it wasn't really a lie, was it…?
“your cousin called me, said that you need to use pto hours for a wedding…” she looked at her apple watch. “which is in a few hours?”
you gulped. “what can i say,” you shrugged, “i’m a workaholic.”
your boss shrugged, turning to leave. “take the week off, you deserve it.”
so this is what working so hard got you? damn. you practically leapt off your seat, packing away your laptop and other essentials you had brought to the office. when you were skipping down the steps of the building to the parking garage, you got a text.
flight leaves 6
> one attachment
it was lando. you opened the text as you were unlocking your door, realizing he sent you a boarding pass. he already filled out all your information. he wanted you there that bad, didn’t he? you wouldn’t even consider the two of you close friends rather than buddies who fuck.
you hearted the message and raced home to pack.
when you touched down in miami, there was a car waiting for you outside the airport. you were shocked with such lively treatment, but weren’t one to start complaining. the ride to lando’s hotel wasn’t very long, either, but it was beautiful.
when you stepped out you were greeted by the miami breeze, refreshing from the stagnant air in your humid new york building.
“thought you were gonna chicken out,” his voice was light and airy. you were so dazed by the grandeur of the building that you didn’t see lando standing there at the entrance. you immediately gaped at him, embarrassed that you were caught off guard.
“on what, this? luxury? be for real!” you stifled a laugh. he held out his hand for your bag, and you gave it to him. but it was really meant for your hand.
his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. he peppered light kisses to your neck, but not your mouth. your relationship wasn’t intimate like that, it never was. kissing was the next step to love, you told him, and you never reached for his lips with the amount of times you’ve fucked.
but he did.
there was always something about your aura that allured him. it drew him in like a moth to flame, and he would happily burn if it meant being in your presence. but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he told himself, and neither were you…so you told yourself.
yet you’ve explored each other’s bodies like vestigios conquerors. you knew what made him tick, he knew what made you squirm. it was a fair trade, you thought, and you had no intention of staying exclusive to him.
but you’d make it known to him that when you were both together, there were no other girls around. no boys. it would be just the two of you in your own world, but it was on a time limit.
your hand found the back of his neck, leaning into his lips, but you pulled back when you heard some whispering– paparazzi.
you said nothing as you shifted past him, ripping his head from your neck. he looked confused before he glanced towards the growing crowd around the hotel entrance, some phones being whipped out to record. but he honestly didn’t give a fuck.
but you did. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered as a whore all over your feed. you still needed your fucking job.
“what,” he said, coming closer to you. you took a distancing step back. he came closer. you didn’t move this time. “you didn’t miss me?”
him and his fucking ego.
but you did.
“want me to show you?” you spun around, full of sass. he let out a light laugh, pressing his shoulders back and straightening his posture. little to your knowledge, he was rendered speechless and his dick tightened in his pants. blood flooded to his abdomen, which had him shifting on his feet. this fucking girl.
“come on,” you cooed, nudging his arm. “i came here to celebrate, no? and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet!” you got him there. he nodded, quickling showing you up to his hotel room in miami. it was a beautiful room with a living room and a single bedroom with a king bed.
when you were up there you got a good look, running your hands over the fabric of the couch and the untouched champagne sitting on the coffee table. “this doesn’t count,” you picked up the bottle, turning to face lando from where he stood, placing your luggage on an armchair.
“what? not expensive enough for you?” you rolled your eyes at him, placing the bottle back down on the platter with the glasses. you made haste opening your suitcase, rummaging through the outfits you brought for the duration of your stay, and in particular, your dress.
you pulled out the carefully folded fabric. you held it out in front of you, impressed by the lack of wrinkles, and turned to lando.
his jaw fell agape, staring at the magnificent piece. it was a longer dress that went to your mid calf, and sparkled in the dim lights of the room. he moved closer to you, running his fingers over the fabric. you gulped in his presence.
“shit,” he sighed out, followed by a laugh. “better put it on now.” you raised a brow at him, confused. “else we won’t make it out that fuckin’ door.”
you stifled a giggle and ran towards the bathroom, changing quickly.
there was a knock at the front door when you were just finishing up your look. lando answered when you peeked your head out of the archway to the bathroom. it was carlos.
“ready yet, mate?”
lando shrugged, moving out the way so carlos could make eye contact with you. he said your name with a cheer, brushing past lando to wrap his arms around you. he kissed both your cheeks in greeting, you returned it. lando hummed to himself, wondering what that kind of affection was like from you. guess he’d never know, huh? too intimate, the words rang in his head.
fuck off.
“you flew today?” carlos asked you. you nodded.
“had to celebrate, didn’t i?” you let out a giggle, covering your stained lips when you glanced at lando who was focused elsewhere, his jaw clenching. it had your joy dying in your throat, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t any reason to smile at all.
“of course!” carlos cheered, slapping lando on the back which had him falling back to earth. “can’t believe he finally did it.” lando’s first ever formula one win was an astronomical achievement. you wish you could’ve been there in person.
“neither can i…” your voice trailed when you were focused on his freckled face. a constellation, you called it, and could lose yourself in counting them. and lando was looking at you and your beautiful face. he was addicted to you, he learned, and no girl could fuck him like you could.
carlos glanced between the two of you and raised his brows. “right, then.” he cleared his throat. “let’s get going then, yeah? got the whole grid celebrating you, lando!”
you were quick to put on your heels and grab your clutch. lando waited by the door for you, holding the door open.
when you brushed by him, he grabbed your arm and twisted you around. he pushed his head close to your chest, which had you flushing.
“lando!” you scolded beneath your breath.
“you smell like me,” he raised a brow.
shit. you thought he wouldn’t notice. “grabbed your cologne on accident. was rushing…replaced it with mine, see?” you raised your wrist for him to smell and he did, nose brushing against your sensitive skin. your veins pumped just beneath a thin layer. you felt him inhale and you had shivers running up your spine. he glanced at you again, dropping your hand.
“think mine’s better.”
he meant it. you smelling just like him had him on fucking edge. he didn’t understand why it mattered to him to such a high degree. the primal inclination soaring right over his head, but he knew you were his for the night. longer he would wish, but he would take anything he could get from you.
you only rolled your eyes at him, proceeding to walk down the hall. he caught up with you, hand coming to your lower back to guide you. when you made it to the elevator, he stuck his head into your neck again, breath hot as it fanned against your skin. you leaned into him, but stomped your heeled foot.
“lando…”
he grumbled something inaudible.
“speak, won’t you?” you gripped his chin, pulling him upward.
“driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
your breath caught in your throat. he was always touchy, but it was never this intense. the way he grumbled against the skin of your throat, the needy vibrations which plucked deeply at the strings of your heart. but there shouldn’t be any of your heart involved.
“you’re just a madman, then.”
he chuckled. “gonna lock me up?”
if only, you wanted to say, but held your tongue.
“papaya does look good on you.” you giggled, hand roaming his chest. but you were right about his madness. he was sickeningly crazy. he should be institutionalized, even, in the comfort of your home. what a hell that would be, wouldn’t it?
the drive to the club was short. it wasn’t very far from the hotel. the inside of his expensive mclaren had you dazzled, though it wasn’t really his, just a rental whilst he was in miami. still, your fingers found the pleasure of finding the leather that boarded the doors, wondering just how much leather you could adorn as decoration.
lando, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, debating whether or not his hand would find a good home on the skin of your thigh. your dress had been too long for that, though, and he didn’t…fuck, he didn’t even know. he was anxious to be with you this weekend, not hesitating to call you to be the first one to come down to congratulate him.
he had so many other girls. why did he choose you? he didn’t know it himself, wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such intense truths, but his heart led him astray dialing your phone number. he didn’t even hesitate nor want to connect with another girl, just you.
fucking hell, and you looked heavenly in that dress. he would spend the entire fucking night shifting his pants to hide his stark boner from your eyes.
rolling up to the club, he gave his keys to the valet and you stepped out, fixing the fabric of your scrunched dress. you made your way over to him, elegant as ever, when the cameras began to flash. the amount of attention frightened you, and your phone fell to the ground. it clattered against the pavement.
lando reached down smoothly to pick it up for you, his movements lingering for a moment. when he rose, his hand grazed the back of your exposed calf, trailing up your body to rest on the fabric of your lower back, the top of your ass. you wanted to swat his hand away teasingly, but for the night…you’d allow it. the cameras flashed more and more. lando only separated from you to take a few selfies with fans, but that had been it.
his hand found your back once more, pulling the fabric down that was scrunched at the back. he also did it as an excuse to rest his hand on your ass. guilty!
and you let him. more cameras flashed. he was yours for the evening. so you’d relish in the momentary fame, but would surely be horrified by the comments the next morning. but fuck it, you looked hot in this dress and wouldn’t let these heels go to waste. let them envy you, for you were surely going to envy the next girl on his arm. what? no you weren’t. that thought was fleeting. you were shocked that you imagined of such a scenario.
inside the club was an ambiance of celebratory cadence. it was lively. the bright lights, cheering on goers. everyone seemed to swarm lando, congratulating him and patting him on the back. he was so happy here.
you attempted to shimmy out of the limelight to give him the attention he deserved, but he tightened his hold on you, digging his fingertips into your waist. you were surprised, looking at him with confusion, but he didn’t even take his eyes off of one of the mclaren engineers who attended the festivities.
playing arm candy wasn’t your specialty, but you had the basics down. smile and laugh. straight posture. being fucking perfect. easy stuff, you know? surely sitting in an office chair for your day to day would enthuse a straight spine. surely listening to your old, ratty coworkers jokes would have you rolling with laughter and smiles. surely it was the easiest thing in the world to be perfect for lando norris–
your name was called by a girl at your side. it was alexandra!
you gasped, swinging out of lando’s arms and throwing yourself into her. she caught you, looking absolutely elegant while doing it, and smiled into your hair.
“thank god you’re here!” you cheered, your hands landing on her shoulders to steady yourself. she looked stunning this evening. but she always did. you envied her for that much.
“of course!” her french accent was sweet and endearing. her voice was even softer. “none of us would miss it. i’m glad you’re here!”
alexandra and you had grown a relationship over the past few years you’ve been acquainted with lando. she seemed to always be where you were, and by coincidence, the two of you followed each other on tiktok and realized you had, if not, the same humor. you began messaging each other back and forth, and there you had it– a beautiful friendship between the two of you. being long distance best friends was hard, but it was times like these that you were grateful to see her.
lando had froze when he felt you slip from his grasp, a horrible feeling of incomprehensible dread washing over him that he couldn’t pinpoint why. he interrupted the conversation he was having to see you with your arms wrapped around alexandra, kissing both of her cheeks. his face flushed, hand tightening on the drink he was given by his mates.
why not him?
lando excused himself and clung to your side. you jumped at the feeling of his hand around your waist, eyes snapping up to meet his… irritated ones? you were at a loss as to what could warrant such a look, but you didn’t let it linger when you shifted closer to him, your hips against his thighs. he seemed to relax both his body and face, giving alexandra a smile.
she was amidst congratulating him when charles and carlos approached. rebecca at carlos’ side.
“is this a party or…?” charles remarked, luring you all to the center of the room to dance. lando glanced at you. you could feel his eyes, but you didn’t meet them. not yet. you thought that if you had, you wouldn’t be able to stop tonight. not with how good he looked, not with how he smelled.
on the dance floor was no better. his hands were all over you. it was a bittersweet homecoming to feel so close to you, so flustered. but you loved the way he made you feel. pure adrenaline. alive. your hips swayed and grinded into his own, him matching your pace with a drink in his hand. there had been one in yours too, but you downed it already.
at one point when the beat dropped, they all began to shout his name. you included. his cheeky little smile had him muster the courage to down his drink, emptying the large glass. whoops and hollers filled the club, and there were no more words to describe how magical this night was for him. he would remember it forever, and you couldn’t blame him.
he was magnificent in the spotlight. with a charming tongue, funny jokes, and charisma that had him swooping up any girl he could want. there were a pack of women surrounding him before he pulled you by the arm, interrupting your conversation with alexandra, twirling you to be plastered against his side. the women’s attention didn’t last long after that.
“cheeky, aren’t you?” you raised your lips to his ears, daring to lay one against the top of his throat. you felt him swallow, his adams apple thick and bobbing.
“don’t like to be a cornered animal.” you knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was a layer of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. lando didn’t do well in crowds without flustering with anxiety. to that truth about him, you could toast to.
you were back on the floor with him in a matter of minutes, engaging in conversation with alexandra and charles. lando was talking to others as well, but he was firm against your back, hand on your stomach. the action had you blushing, unable to forget any time that he’d lay his hands there, asking if you could feel him. and you could. now, you could feel the imprint of his cock behind you. you didn’t know how he could last this long without asking you to fuck him in the bathroom, but you weren’t complaining.
yet!
steadily as the night progressed, he would be laced with sweat and the smell of him. a mix of body odor, sure, it smelt like lando. your lando for the night. he flashed you a smile as he leaned over your body from behind, both hands gripping your hips against him.
you returned the gesture, but were much more bashful than he anticipated. you were giving him that look. a look that he had become trained to respond to. his dick instantly hardened. pavlov was onto something, wasn’t he?
you both had been there for hours. you could only handle so many more amped up bass drops. and you were both plastered enough. it was around four in the morning when you were tumbling out, giggling and laughing at who knows what.
one of the valet club drivers even drove the both of you back to the hotel. neither of you are in the state to drive.
in the car, one of your legs was atop his, slotted between his thighs. you could feel his pulsing cock and your mouth watered at the sensation. he was staring at you through dangerously dark eyes, reflecting back your own stare of desire. it was like looking in a mirror for the both of you. ravaging and desperate to have one another’s hands on each other’s bodies.
lando took liberty and lowered his head to your exposed shoulder, pulling down a thin strap of your dress to your bicep. he kissed the skin tenderly, an action too intimate for your own good, but you were too fucking drunk to deny it.
“fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your skin, quiet for only your ears to touch. you let your fingers trace up the side of his face lazily, feeling your gaze spinning beneath his tender words.
“i’m proud of you,” you whispered, brushing a stray curl from his sticky forehead up into the rest of his hairs. “you know that, don’t you?”
your voice had been tender. delicious to his drunken ears. though he knew he’d remember this sober– he had a feeling. how could he forget that tone of voice, your gentle touch, clearly breaking the bounds of what was too intimate.
he gulped, eyes flaring wide at your declaration. his hand found your thighs then, gripping the soft flesh with depth.
your fingers traced down to his bottom lip, puckering the flesh, but dropped to the car seat with a laugh. you brushed off his shocked expression, leaning back into the cool leather. but his grip didn’t relent. he kept his eyes on you, too, unable to find something else to fixate on. you were the object of all of his desires. he confirmed it then when he was desperate to hear more of your unsolicited praises from your lips.
he craved your lips.
lando’s head dropped to your waist, his face nuzzling into your soft flesh. he kissed through the fabric of your dress, desperate to feel you beneath such a guarding sheath from your skin. you turned your head to look at him from where your gaze latched to the window, your hand rolling down the curve of his neck.
you kept your hand there for the remainder of the drive, but didn’t look down at him. you knew you’d be face with those desperate, glistening green eyes of his. you’d fall weak beneath the light of his love, and you’d find yourself disappointed when he didn’t want what you did. a relationship, dare you think it just for one second.
the valet driver dropped the two of you off and was able to manage a cab on his own back to the club. lando tipped him a hundred euros for his time, beginning to sober himself enough to walk in a straight line and speak without slurring his speech.
you were the same. stretching your legs from the car, hands above your head in a dramatic feline stretch. lando’s eyes were on you the entire time, gaping at your figure. your ass. his lip caught between his teeth, and you caught him ogling.
your hips began to sway beneath the music of his eyes. you’re unable to resist his humorous allure, crumbling the second the second the corner of his eyes uplifted. a smile followed, his gapped, perfect, teeth shimmering the reflections of the pale moonlight.
he stretched out his arm for you to join him at his side. you sashayed there, twirling in your heels that ached your feet. but you did it for him. you’d do it all, though the alcohol was driving your thoughts.
lando swooped you into his grasp, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingertips into your hips. you laughed amicably, his presence both a comfort and a feat of pride.
you mustered the strength to break his hold, trotting up the steps of the hotel. your heels were loud in the quiet, tender moments of the rising miami sun, and your giggles even more so. lando wasn’t far behind, skipping the steps to catch up with you.
you’d never seen him hit an elevator button harder. you resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it was an impossible situation to be so loud at dawn. so you bit your fist in your mouth, choking down a sound that lando yearned to hear.
when the elevator arrived he jumped right in, dragging you along– though it’s not like you hesitated– by your elbow.
he immediately began trailing kisses down your throat, the column of your neck, your collarbones, shoulders. he left no place untouched by his devout, worshipping lips. he’d often say in the heat of the moment that you were the best thing he’s ever tasted– a man feral for your sweet nectar– but you just thought it to be the post-euphoria sex high.
the british driver muttered something into your neck which had your eyes flaring wide, uncertain if you heard him correctly.
you pushed his head back, gripping at the curls near the base of his neck. “what did you say?”
he looked flushed. embarrassed. he choked on his words, shaking his head. he was clearly brushing it off.
“nothin’.”
he resumed devouring your neck, saliva dripping onto your dress, but his words bubbled.
the ding of the elevator alerted both of you. he was the one to lead the way to his hotel room, swiftly opening the door with skilled ease, and had you against the wall in minutes. he gripped at the fabric of your dress, tempting to rip it. you hissed with contempt. “don’t,” he looked up at you with heavy eyes and a half toothed smirk, challenging you. “too expensive.”
you felt him scoff against the skin of your chest. “‘too expensive.’” he mocked.
but he heeded your words, gentle with how he lowered the straps to your forearms. your head lolled against the wall, eyes glistening with liquidated pleasure. there was nothing better in the world that could feel better than lando norris’ lips against your skin. each press was a blessing, a kiss of life, hungry for the divination you relented this evening.
“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed when he shimmied you out of the dress, neatly undoing the zipper. you wore nothing under the dress besides panties, which had his eyes gawking at your taut, perked nipples. you shifted forward, desperate for his touch on your suddenly cold body.
lando didn’t wait. his cock was already painfully hard in his pants, punishing the fabric for being so restrictive. he pulsated, precum already ruining the pair.
his lips found your nipple, other palm fisting the firm flesh. you let out a sweet moan that was delicious to his starving ears, your hips bucking into his for a relenting yearn for release. he let out the deepest chuckle from his throat, finding such impending amusement for your desire.
when he was contempt with the titillation of your nipples, he moved to the skin of your belly, biting softly at the skin. enough to leave bruises for his own eyes when he’d see you next. next. there was always a next with you.
but you had other plans.
your hands reached for his face, pulling him to meet your eyes. his own blew wide, flickering to your lips, to your eyes.
“let me,” you whimpered, reaching for the buckle of his pants. he’d stop you, usually intending on getting you off with his lips or tongue before he could even cum. but tonight, he couldn’t resist your lips. you looked up at him with pure heaven written in your iris’.
he swallowed before nodding his head rapidly, his forehead leaning into yours. “yeah, yeah, please.”
lando norris wasn’t a man to beg. he didn’t have to do any of that shit for his other girls– they were always eager to please him, fuck him, suck him off– but for you…
your lips found his neck, feeling the thick muscles with your tongue. it was arousing how muscular each part of his body was, thundering with endurance.
there was a soft mewl in his throat when you slid your hand down the front of his pants, beneath his briefs, over the length of his cock. the sound excited you tenfold– wishing that you could hear it a hundred times over again. it was addicting how he wanted you.
when your finger grazed his tip, his hips bucked instinctively into you, just how yours had. he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall limp into the crevice of your neck.
you laughed into his skin, finally falling to your knees to drop his pants and briefs. his cock sprung free, red and vibrating for your touch. your touch. you often wondered how his other girls treated him. if you were better, if you were the worst. obviously not the worst if he was the one to call you after his first win, right?
one hand stroked his length, traveling to his balls, simultaneously glancing up at him. he was staring down at you, riddled with urgency, a pleading look reflecting in your eyes. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when his hand found the back of your head, stroking the sides of your face.
his thumb caressed your bottom lip. it caused your lips to open for him, and his thumb found your tongue. you swirled it around the pad of his finger, never breaking the shared look between you two. you let him go with a pop, and he found his hand at the base of your neck again, hand wrapping a makeshift ponytail with his hand.
your lips swirled around the head of his cock, swallowing the precum that dampened his briefs. he held back a rumble in his throat which annoyed you, so you took him wide in your mouth, bottoming him out in the back of your throat.
your cunt clenched around nothing when his whole body sang in praise of your lips. he faltered when you began a steady pace of back and forth, stimulating his balls with your other hand. curses fell from his lips, sinful words, and he gripped your hair tightly. with his other one, he fell forward against the wall, bracing for dear life.
but you didn’t relent. faster and faster you went, and you were awarded by his hips snapping into you, cock gagging your windpipe. you choked, tears forming in your eyes, but it was divine how satisfying it was. to see his eyes rolling back into his head, hands shaking, desperate to feel you up. from this position, below him, you could see the entire world. you had it all on the tip of your tongue.
“fuck, baby…” he groaned. you felt so good around him. warm and tight. it felt like fucking home for him. somewhere he’d always come back to. and he would. no other girl could make him feel this way, had him about to cum in a matter of three minutes. your lips were made to take his cock, and he would yell that to hell and back for the entire world to know.
he felt you moan against his cock, the sound echoing in your throat. he swallowed harshly, drool dripping down the side of his chin at the sight of you alone. you were perfect.
and when your hand came to run over your nipples, kneading at the skin of your breasts, he felt his abdomen tighten. you found so much pleasure in sucking him off that you felt the need to touch yourself. fuck, he never thought he’d see something so hot in his entire life.
he knew he’d been done for in a matter of seconds. with a firm grip of your hair, he pulled you back from his cock. you looked offended, disappointed when the drool from your lips trailed down your chin.
“not yet,” he uttered, gripping the side of your face with his other hand. his cock was angry, furious at the lack of attention. he was practically fucking edging himself. “wanna cum inside you.”
say less, you wished to say, but all that came out from your lips was a whine.
and then you were laid out on your back on his bed. the white sheets were clean and made, cold beneath your scorching skin.
lando traced two fingers up your thigh, the junction of your hips, your waist. you shivered, toes clenching at the sensation. then to your naval, your pussy, your dampened underwear. a ruined pair, no doubt. he smirked, lip curling.
“all for me, huh?”
you nodded instantly.
his hand slapped against your flushed pussy. you whimpered, grasping at the sheets.
“words, pretty girl.”
“yes!” you gasped when you felt him tug the underwear down your legs. “you, you, you, lando. all you.”
he practically purred. your folds were swollen and glistening, drenched from how his cock pounded into your mouth. “so wet,” he observed, twisting his fingers to trail up your slit, gathering the slick between his fingers. he raised the pair to his mouth, tasting your sweet juice on his tongue. your legs pulsed together, eager for friction, a quiet mewl leaving your throat at the sight. “tastes like heaven.”
“lando…” you were getting impatient now. rightfully so. he stood there with his hardened cock, teasing you with his firm fingers.
“what’dya want, baby? hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be. yet he’d trace his hands gently up the sides of your body, fingers dancing over your nipples. you writhed.
“you.” you said endearingly. “fuck me, lan, please.”
he was so impressed with your manners that he couldn’t resist slipping his cock inside of you. atop of you he caged you in, a blessed enclosure, lips pressing to your exposed chest. you whined at the initial stretch, always finding yourself so tight around his thick cock.
“fuck, lando.” you hissed, teeth clenching at his immaculate girth. it was a pleasurable burn, and your arousal only had you clenching around him. he huffed through his nose, hot hair breathing over your skin.
“i know, baby,” he reassured you with his bittersweet voice. “y’can take me, can’t you? always such a good girl for me.”
you whined at his words, low moan bellowing in your throat. you squelched with your slick and he could feel it. he smirked, having the gall to chuckle, even. but you didn’t punish him for it, especially not when he began to move his hips back and forth, a pair of fingers coming to rub against the bundle of nerves placatated at your clit.
the sensation of feeling him slip in and out of you was impeccable. you could find no other pleasure than his cock nestled inside of you, filling you to the absolute hilt of your dreams. the imprint of his dick had him riled with lust when it ran over your lower belly.
“feel me here,” his hand came to grab yours, bringing it to the imprint of his cock inside of you. “don’t you?”
you nodded, lip catching between your teeth and opposite hand threading through his curls as if you were a needle and thread. “so good, lando, please. keep going.”
and he did. if you asked him to do anything right now, he would’ve. the slapping of skin echoed in the hotel room, filling silence with vulgar sounds from both of your lips. lando was a moaning mess at the pulses of your cunt, intent on sucking him dry from his cum. and he was an expert at navigating your clit, pinching and swirling the rough pads of his fingers.
your eyes rolled in the back of his head when you bucked your hips for a better angle. “deeper,” you said, finding a grim satisfaction at the thought of him splitting you open.
his eyes flashed to yours, bloodshot and red with lust, and shifted so your thighs were over his shoulders. your back arched for him and he was pleased to see your receptiveness. his hips didn’t falter, and neither did his hands.
this angle had been more than what any gospel could provide. more than any destiny written out for you. fucking him was written in the stars, you knew it for certain, and you blossomed into a glistening constellation before him. for he was the entire universe for you, and you just a mere fractal in the midst of it all.
but oh, how that wasn’t true. how you were the sun in which he orbited, woke up and thought of. you were the first person that he called after his father, needing your presence with him in miami. he needed this. your cunt. your pleasures, your moans. you, it was on the tip of his tongue, edging its way forward through the kisses he laid upon your neck.
you were drenched in his saliva, coated in the thick musk of lando norris. he would never say it aloud but he dreamed of the day to see his cum dripping down your thighs, full of him, the remnants of your love affair sticky and haughty with each step that you’d take.
it was a primal instinct that became so vicious. it overtook him, thwarting him into a dick-measuring contest whenever you went out with him. he’d keep you close. his, the message would be clear. no man would approach you when he had his hand on your lower back, your hips in his hands, your pelvis grinding against his own. you were his own keepsake. the light at the end of the tunnel. a brazen warrior that he’d follow into any battle.
the only battle he was intending on winning was the war of your heart, blessed be his troops.
it only took a few more harsh thrusts of his cock and twiddling of his fingers before you were painfully close to a release. he could feel it. he knew it like the back of his hand. your trembling legs, intense writhing against his hold, your breathy moans. he wished he could take a picture of you, flushed and desperate, and keep it in his wallet.
“come on, baby.” he urged, feeling the own heat of his orgasm rising in his lower stomach. he had been resisting the urge to cum for your sake, always finding a deeper satisfaction in seeing your overstimulated face after the fact.
“come for me, won’t you? pretty thing. i’ve got you,” the words of praise that were only meant for you. he didn’t call any of his other girls ‘baby’, but you wouldn’t know that. you couldn’t know. it would ruin all of this, wouldn’t it? wouldn’t it?
i’ve got you, he said tenderly. it’s what had you compulsing, drenching his cock in your slick. your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the euphoria of what was lando norris’ pleasure.
he was staring at your worn out face, his own tongue coming to swipe at his bottom lip. he was ready to feast on you.
lando’s own orgasm was swift to follow. the rhythm of his hips faltered, sloppily, aggressively. the overstimulation against the walls of your cunt was delectable.
“come for me,” you begged him. it had his eyes flaring once more, shocked to hear such a request from your pretty lips. “inside me, lan, need it…”
“fuck…” he groaned, and with one last snap of his hips he was spilling out inside of you. his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. your chests moved in unison, catching your breaths after such an intense fuck.
you were sticky against him. his body fell atop of yours, and your hands wrapped around his back. one hand came to run up and down his neck again, which had his eyes fluttering with sleep. but he didn’t let himself, and instead moved to get a towel for you both.
he slipped outside of you, the warmth of your cunt had his expression falling. he saw your face, too, empty once he made his way to the on suite. he grabbed a handheld towel and ran it under the warm water, and crossed the space between the bathroom and the bed.
lando let it run up your thighs, between your legs. your cunt was swollen still, his cum thick and dripping from your slit. he smirked to himself, cleaning the remnants of himself from the immediate vicinity, but wouldn’t go further.
you were aware. entirely too aware of how warm you felt. how filled you were. it was filthy how good sex with him was. you could never orgasm with any man but him.
lando fell to the bed beside you, opening the sheet for you to slip in beside him. you hesitated, never having spent an entire night with him, except for a few drunk evenings. did this count? you weren’t sure. you’d certainly remember that mind blowing orgasm.
but his eyes were drooping with sleep, weary when you hesitated. you couldn’t resist, and slid in beside him, comforted by the furnace of his body.
lando’s head found home, once more, in the side of your neck. you brushed the hairs from his sweating forehead, roamed through his scalp. you ran circles through his hair until you heard the soft snores coming from him. it only took a few seconds for him to fall asleep in your arms and for once, you were perfectly content with that. if this was what your life would be, then so be it.
the british driver woke approximately twenty four hours later.
when he woke, you were not there.
he was startled as he searched for you, but there was no sign of you. he sat up in his bed, sun peeking in through the curtains. he rubbed his eyes, hand resting on the spot that you had laid in. there was an imprint from your body.
when he checked his phone, he knew he was in deep shit.
“fuck.” it really had been a full day that he slept through.
but there were no texts from you.
his gut tightened, heart beating loudly in his throat. why are there no texts from you?
he scanned the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand, previously iced from the ring of water around the side of it. and there was a note, too, with some ibuprofen. he picked it up.
had a good night
proud of you always
text me when you’re up x
and it was signed by you.
he folded the piece of paper.
he supposed it was a good night. the best sex he’s ever had, in fact, and wouldn’t forget his own confession in the elevator. he wasn’t sure if you heard it or not, but there was a part of him that wanted you to.
“you were always my favorite,” he spoke into the column of your neck.
the next time you saw lando was in monaco.
you were back home and invited by alexandra to the paddocks for the home race of charles. you accepted, of course, hoping to catch a glimpse of lando.
you hadn’t texted him much, but neither had he. you heard first from him on that tuesday morning and it had you smiling at the airport, bags in hand. you texted back, and it was sporadic from there on out. it’s been a few days since either of you’ve said a word, and it was beginning to wane on you.
alexandra repeated your name.
“yeah?” you responded, head snapping towards her direction.
“i asked if you were feeling alright.”
“oh.” you breathed, laughing it off. “of course, do i not seem okay?” alexandra shook her head, petting leo’s little head in her hands.
“you’ve been quiet, that’s all.”
and you had been. but since she noticed, you were determined to make her forget about it.
“nervous for charles,” you lied. but alexandra bought it and agreed with you, shedding her anxieties for her boyfriend’s home race.
you were standing on the balcony with her in ferrari’s hospitality. you looked elegant today, matching alexandra’s own vibe. your hands were clasped together as you were leaning down, watching the drivers go in and out for their free practice.
alexandra was still ranting about how nervous she was for charles when you saw him.
the papaya was noticeable from anywhere.
lando
lando and company.
a girl trailing behind him. her hair was done neatly, blonde, painfully thin. you grimaced against your will, face scrunching with a bitterness you had never felt before.
alexandra tapped your elbow before she looked down at what you were staring at.
“asshole.” she remarked, scoffing.
you raised a brow. “you think so?”
alexandra nodded as if it was obvious. “don’t know why he brings them around,” she sighed. “not when he could have you.”
you never felt so flattered before. you blushed, thanking her for saying something so kind. though you denied having feelings for him. she knew it was a lie this time.
lando glanced up at the balcony, finding your eyes inevitably. he could feel your stare at the back of his head.
and he fucking waved.
the girl beside him looked up, too, but she did not.
you could see lando’s smile from up here, but in your intensive bitterness, you did not wave back. you stood and turned to go back into ferrari’s hospitality, not thinking twice about your decision.
the rest of the weekend you spent in bitter earnest. you’ve never seen yourself in such a state. but you plastered on a smile for alexandra and charles, entirely too elated when he crossed the finish line first in monaco. you held her as she weeped with joy.
and, of course, you were invited to the festivities for the evening. your attitude was soured by the girl latched to lando’s arm throughout the entire weekend. but he looked so nonchalant with her, careless. none of it mattered. you’d put on your best dress for the evening.
in the club you were found nursing a martini in your hand, not quaint on the taste, but were keen on getting wasted. you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit storm of emotions were brewing inside of your head. seeing lando with another girl was not new for you to witness. it was the norm, in fact, and you never thought about it otherwise.
but something changed that night of his win in miami. you knew it. he knew it. the words he uttered into your neck in that elevator was sending you up the wall and skyrocketing into the abyss of the universe. and you believe that somehow, he would find you.
he would find you.
lando saw you instantly when you entered with alexandra and charles. rebecca and carlos paired together, too, leaving you the odd one out with no arm candy on display. good, the thought was impulsive.
the girl beside him was giggling at something he said. but it wasn’t meant as a joke. he was convinced that she just had no idea what he was talking about, and was eager for a good fuck from him. he knew his skills of pleasure were not in comparison to any low life dude, but no girl could fulfill the void of receptiveness. of yearning desire.
so when he tilted his head back to down the rest of his drink, he grimaced at the taste, and turned back to the girl he brought with him. but he kept stealing glances at you in your short dress. it was like you were punishing him– were you? he suddenly felt like a dog, a bad boy, reared and chained to the dog house outside your house of a heart.
but you didn’t see him. not for a while, actually. you were intent on staying true to your morals– staying away from him this evening. he only brought trouble for you. confusion. you were sick of this back and forth, and most importantly, this rotten feeling of jealousy. it wasn’t a good look on you, or so you thought.
“dance with me?” alexandra asked you. you accepted, of course, grabbing her hand and holding it high above the crowds as she led you to the dance floor. you were both twirling and laughing with your drinks in hand, purely electric with the rap music. charles joined her, gripping her from behind. you couldn’t help but watch, gulping down the feeling of envy.
alexandra noticed. she knew what you were going through, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud. your ‘relationship’ with lando has gone on for far too long without any real commitment. everyone knew he was your favorite girl to be around, except you. you were the only one, apparently, who didn’t know that lando looked at you like a goddess reincarnate.
and when you shook off your thoughts of envy, your eyes found another pair staring back at you.
sharp emeralds, piercing through the musk of the club.
your breath hitched, catching solemnly in your throat.
the blonde was grinding up against him, throwing her head back against his shoulders. one hand was on her hip, the other with an empty shot glass in his hand. the girl was enjoying herself, at least, and you wondered if he fucked her the same as he did you.
his eyes didn’t leave yours as his hips swayed in motion with hers. his hair was disheveled, a coat of sweat gleaning on his forehead.
the pair of you were waiting to see who would break first. who would succumb to the challenge. you wanted so desperately to win, to grab another random man and kiss on his neck, but you were detested.
the air inside the club felt heavy, and the world would collapse on you. the weight was too much on your shoulders as you became lightheaded.
“i need air,” you said to alexandra before you fled from the dance floor, leaving your glass on the counter.
the air of monaco was brisk when it pierced your skin, your thighs, your shoulders. but it was a much needed refreshment from the confines of that fucking club. you felt nauseous, sickened by lando’s eye contact with you. how dare he.
you looked around before turning the corner of the club, seeing a pair of men smoking a cigarette.
“care to share?”
the men glanced at one another and the one holding the pack nodded. he handed you one and you placed it to your lips. he held out the lighter, too, and lit it for you.
you weren’t one to smoke. it was a drunk cigarette kind of night.
they insisted on you staying with them, talking each other up to be some pair of scrouges who deserved your attention. you politely declined their advances and walked the other way, feeling colder when the tobacco hit your lungs.
when you blew out your first puff, it wasn’t long before the cigarette was ripped from your lips.
“hey–”
“this shit isn’t good for you.”
lando.
he found you out here. rather, he chased you out. the minute he saw you turn your back he scrambled, pushing past every person that came in his way.
you scoffed, unable to look at him as you crossed your arms.
“you don’t know what’s good for me.”
he paused, sucking in a tight breath. his jaw clenched. the cigarette was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his foot.
“rude–” you uttered, cut off when he grabbed your elbow. that had you looking at him. and his expression didn’t disappoint.
his eyes were widened, pupils blown wide as he looked into your own. his lip trembled momentarily, jaw entirely too tight for his own good.
“what’s going on with you?” he wondered, holding eye contact with you.
“nothing.” you answered instantly, brushing him off. but he didn’t accept that.
“‘nothing,’” he mocked. “you’re not a very good liar.”
you hummed. “thanks.”
the conversation widdled down, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“tell me,” he requested, his face pulling closer to yours. you had to give it to him. he was determined. but you were too.
“there’s nothing to tell.” you bit back.
“i care about you. come on–” your name fell sweetly from his lips. he was prepared to grovel at any second now.
but you cut him off. “ohhh…! yeah, right, you care? pfft, no need to pretend, lando.”
he pulled back, shocked that you got in his face. your words were cruel, but he felt the double meaning behind them.
“what?” he asked, softly. you knew then that he was hurt.
but jealousy was a monster.
“i wish i was as stupid as you think i am.” you rambled, hands thrown up with emotion. but you were done with this conversation. “fuck it, i’m leaving–”
but he used his other hand to ground you before him. “don’t.” he pleaded. eyes watering.
“what? like you’d notice?”
then the bells chimed in his head. an alert that he understood what this was. he was stupid in not knowing what was happening before him.
you’re jealous.
“didn’t take you for a jealous type.”
you scoffed. “you’re ridiculous.”
but he shook his head and tsked. “can’t believe it, baby, that you hid it for so long.”
“fuck you.”
he blew out a huff of air as if he were wounded, hand coming to run over his chest. it was a fatal one, that was for sure. you tried again to push past him, but to no avail nor universe would he let you go.
“come home with me.”
his words were determined, sincere, though there was a layer of softness to it. like unsweetened honey that poured from his lips.
you stared at him. “what?”
he laughed. “you heard me. let me take you home.”
you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. couldn’t tell if he was mocking you. your facial expression dropped from its intense anger.
“don’t…” you started, feeling the heat of emotions that you’ve been burying come to the surface. your eyes swelled with tears but fuck, you promised you’d never cry over him. “don’t be mean, lando.”
his smile dropped. he knew then that you weren’t playing around, messing with him in the ways you usually had. what was this feeling inside of him? guilt? he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever he’s done. the instinct blazed a fire through his veins, igniting a deep rooted reaction that he feared only you could bring out of him.
his hand came to cup your cheek. you flinched backward, staring at the palm of his hand through your wet lashes, but allowed his touch.
“come here…” his hand dropped from your cheek to hold out for you to melt into. an invitation for a hug.
you hesitated, shifting closer on your tip toes. when you were in close enough reach, he grabbed you, earning a yelp.
his body was warm. he pulled you flush against his chest, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. his hands were wrapped firmly around your torso. was he shaking?
he was. lando was wrought with a surplus of emotion when he saw your anger diffuse. he loved to feel all of your emotions, it reminded him that you cared about him. but when he saw it disappear, faze into an abyss of melancholy, his heart set into overdrive. he never got such a rush of adrenaline before. not from racing. not from anything else in his life.
you relaxed into him, shutting your eyes. there was a wet stain from the single tears that fell from your face on his shirt.
but you didn’t care. he smelled so good. it was lando. your lando.
“let me take you home.”
your nose buried into his shirt. his stubble dug into your neck.
“your place,” you muttered. “i want to go to yours.”
his place was always for special occasions. but to your unbeknownst knowledge, you were the only girl he’s ever taken there. the only woman he’s fucked in his bed.
he stuttered. “yeah,” he cleared his throat. “yeah, of course we can.”
you didn’t even end up texting alexandra goodbye. you were too wrung tight with your jealousy, coined poignantly by lando himself. he was quick to catch on to your attitude shift, but you could tell he was frightened. at least you wished for it to be.
but he was. his heart plummeted when your anger reached him. it did more than touch him, it ripped him apart, had his heart bleeding in plain sight. anyone could see it except you. it was never you who saw the love beneath his eyes.
lando’s apartment was just how you remembered it to be.
open space, loosely decorated. it was rather bland.
“you kept it!” you ran your fingers over the displayed teddy bear, one that you had won for him at a fair.
he shut the door behind you two, locking it. he let out a soft hum. “‘course i did.”
he said it like it was obvious. he would never get rid of anything that you’d give him. you squeezed the teddy bear in your palms, but dropped it when you felt lando’s arms wrap around your waist from behind.
his lips found your neck in an instant.
“i missed you.”
you tensed. back arching, you turned your head to look at him, angled perpendicular to his face burrowed into the junction of your neck and collarbones.
“really, now?”
he chuckled against your skin, fanning his warm breath through your body. the hairs on the back of your neck rose instinctively, choosing to hold your breath instead of express anger. though you couldn’t help the huff through your nose.
“you’re so vicious when you’re jealous, darling.” he thought this was funny. it angered you even more, attempting to writhe out of his hold. but he didn’t relent, keeping you taught against his chest. asshole.
“am not.”
he tsked.
“sure.” he continued his trail of kisses down your neck. you fell into him, head lolling back and eyes rolling. fuck, his lips were always so good. he was so good to you.
“am not.” you said again, biting back a moan when his hands came to your forefront, parting your legs for his hands to rest between your thighs.
“whatever you say.”
your hips grinded against his own in retaliation which had him humming in soft praises. his fingers trailed the lining of your panties, other hand holding your hip firmly .
“because i’m not–” the moan that was pulled from your throat was pure divinity to lando’s ears. his fingers had run up your slit, teasing your entrance. blood ran down to your body, fueling your cunt to a puffy state. your weight went lax against his hold, which he was perfectly capable of supporting you.
“not what?” he dared you to continue, not when he had you numb in his hold already. he was clearly cocky. you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“i’m not–” you were determined. but lando was coming back in full force. his middle finger teased you, pushing between your slick, finding the warmth of your walls. you sucked in a tight breath, feeling just how wet you’ve become.
“so wet, baby,” he said into your ear. “what were you saying?”
“fuck–” you sighed, whining. “i’m not jeal–”
and then he seized the bundle of nerves around your clit, curling his middle finger inside of you. you cursed, sweat beginning to bead around your forehead.
“mhm.” lando proved himself right when you couldn’t mutter out a sentence, becoming dumb on his fingers alone. he began a steady pace with just a singular digit, flexing in and out of you supported by your natural lubrication.
“more–” you pleaded. it had him standing up straight, reacting to your soft pleas like he was a dog to a treat. pavlov, and all that shit. he found himself staring down at the sight of your two– his finger etching in and out of you, drenched in your sweet nectar. if he was no better than a dog, why was he about to drool?
“yeah? you can take another?” you were rapidly nodding against the back of his shoulder, biting your lip.
“yes, please. please, lando.” you mewled, gripping at his forearms that caged you in. you never wanted to be chained down, but for pleasure like this, you felt as though you could make an exception.
he obeyed. adding a second finger was close enough to your release, and you knew that was barreling forward at any minute. if he kept this assault of your clit up and the delicious curl of his fingers, you would melt into a puddle.
and you knew he would. if lando started something, he would finish it. the only priority for him was to make sure you reached an orgasm. that was a promise, forever and always.
he found himself bucking his hips into you, the sight of you weak in his arms becoming too much for him to handle. the friction between his pants and your hot cunt was too irresistible. what can he say? you were just pure bottled heaven.
his thumb had been applying more intense pressure to your clit. your face was entirely flushed now, brightened from his attention. he was entirely to carnal to hear the noises you made. noises for him to hear, no one else.
but his pace was slow. teasing. you felt like this was a punishment. your lip curled, face contorting with both pleasure and angst. “please, please.” you whimpered.
“what, baby? what do you want?” smug. always so smug.
you gripped his hand that was flexing inside of you, tightening your grip. he chuckled deeply.
“wanna come? that what you want?”
your head bobbed up and down, breaths coming in fast pants. “need.” you corrected him, and he thought that he would fall dead at your feet. his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing, and he would give you want you needed.
you needed him.
that was all that he needed to hear from you.
you turned your head to look up at him with your bloodshot eyes, dreary with lust. lust for him. your lashes fluttered against your brow line, lip quivering with a singular wish.
he wanted nothing more to kiss you.
“fuck.” he groaned, your thighs were drenched in your slick, a sight he thought could never be hotter. and when he curled his two fingers sweetly, your hips bucked aggressively. he knew exactly how to navigate your body, but it was always so thrilling to see you react in such a way.
“yeah?” he smirked, “that good?”
“so good, lan,” the nickname you used for him was not intentional. it had his dick throbbing in his pants. fuck.
your words of praise would only have him working harder. he didn’t even need to add a third finger when your stomach snapped with tension, coming loose all over his fingers. your vision blurred, legs shaking rapidly. you cried out, head lolled against his shoulder. he held you tightly, and you didn’t miss how he stroked your hip with his thumb. a soothing action.
how he could ever find this kind of pleasure in another woman, he didn’t know. but the challenge begged– could he ever admit that?
his fingers remained buried in your cunt whilst you rode yourself free from your high. it was impossible to look anywhere else but you.
and when he removed them, showing you the mess you made, his popped them into his mouth. it was such a vulgar statement, but you found yourself blushing. he sucked on his fingers, letting them out with a pop, clean as a whistle.
“heavenly.” he reaffirmed. “no girl compares.”
you froze, still delirious from your orgasm, but it had you spinning in his hold. he was slightly blurred in your vision, but you could make out his faintly cocky expression.
“really, huh?”
your attitude would have him rising, cocky attitude falling away instantly.
he gulped. “guess so.” was this it?
a smile grew on your face. your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, grooming through the back of his head. he smiled lazily, lip catching between his top teeth.
but things like this didn’t last forever, did they?
there was a pounding knock at the door. it had you frightened, shifting your panties back into their rightful place. your fingers fixed your appearance the best you could, whilst lando adjusted his dick in his pants.
“open the fucking door, lando!”
it was a woman’s voice.
your brow raised.
“i know you’re in there with that bitch,” the woman seethed. you could feel her anger through the door– but you could feel your own flying through the roof. bitch? you didn’t fucking think so.
you pushed past lando who was about to open the door and he called your name, attempting to stop you.
the door flew open. “bitch?”
the blonde girl stood there. she clearly didn’t expect you to open the door. but she didn’t back down; fine.
“yeah. bitch.” you straighten your posture. “he told me not to worry about you–” what? “and here you are, fucking him.”
not quite, you wanted to correct her.
“fuck off,” he said the girl’s name. “me and you aren’t a couple.” but she rolled her eyes anyway.
“you promised me a good fuck, lando,” she had such a venom to her bite. it had you bristle. “i didn’t think you’d stoop so low.”
“hey, now, don’t be–” lando started, but you were done. you had enough of this night. you turned back into his apartment and grabbed your handbag, your phone, and threw on your heels. you didn’t hesitate brushing past the pair.
lando called your name.
but you only turned your head over your shoulder. your gaze read an entire sentence that he felt up his entire body.
two can play this game.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando norris one shot#f1 fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fics#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#lando imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#f1
3K notes
·
View notes