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xooonism · 2 months ago

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Caitvi x reader (modern AU)

*You´re laying in bed, making out faint noises, pulling you out of your dreams. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights of the morning sun, before you make out Vi´s face. "Morning, peach", she spoke while smiling. "Did you sleep well, love?", Caitlyn says, who´s laying behind you, her body pressed against yours.

*contains: sexual activities, lesbian sex, threesome, making out, pussy licking, scissoring etc. MDNI

*wordcount: 2.1k

*authors note: This is my first ever fanfiction so please tell me anything that i could improve! Enjoy!

You groaned, feeling hazy after being pulled from your sleep. Feeling the warmth of both women on your body made it hard to stay awake. You always sleep this way, squeezed in between of Vi and Cait, enjoying their warm and soft bodies. You never complained, because you really loved the feeling of protection, helping you fall asleep quicker.

You managed to open your mouth to mumble a soft ´morning`, while streching your body, almost hitting Cait in the process. "What time is it?", you asked unfazed.

Cait answered, "It´s half past seven". You looked at her. Cait´s eyes looked heavy, telling you that she must´ve woken up briefly before you.

"Do you have to work?", you asked looking at both women. "No. We can spend some time together today". You smiled at this. Days like this, on which all of you had a free day from work, didn`t happen often. So you enjoy every moment you have together.

Vi leaned in, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. "Can we just stay in bed all day?", she asked. Right in that moment her stomach rumbles, making you chuckle. "Looks like we can´t. Can´t have you starving.", Cait chimed in.

"I can make pancakes.", you spoke into Vi`s neck, breathing in her scent. She smells soft but pungent at the same time, like sandalwood and cinnamon. You gifted her a shower gel that smells just like this, making you smile at the thought that she liked the present.

Your mention of pancakes made Vi´s head shoot up, making you chuckle. "Pancakes?". Vi looked like a little puppy, getting a treat.

"Yeah, but we have to get up first." You felt a small protest from them, who hugged you thight. Eventually they loosend their grip, Cait being the first to leave the bed. You followed suit, having to peel away Vi´s arms, to get her to stand up. She acted like a baby in the morning, cuddling up to Cait and you. You loved it.

You followed Cait into the bathroom, splashing water onto your face, before doing your skincare routine and brushing your teeth. You left before Vi and Cait, opening your drawer in the bedroom, pulling out a white tanktop and some sweatpants and changing your clothes.

Your girlfriends still haven´t left the bathroom, probably playfighting or snickering about something stupid. You walked into the kitchen already, using this moment alone the prepare some pancake batter. It´s always messy when Vi´s in the kitchen while you bake. She tries to eat some of the dough or batter, or smears some on your or Cait´s face. You didn´t hate it, but it could lead to you spending hours in the kitchen, throwing flour at each other and having to clean up the kitchen afterwards.

You prepared the pancakes, putting them on plates just in time, as both women walked into the kitchen, sitting down. "It smells so good, Peach. I love it when you bake.", Vi admits making you smile. You placed the plates with pancakes infront of the women, sitting down with your own plate. Cait looks at the food in front of her, smiling before she takes a bite. "I agree, Vi. She´s the best baker around.", she says before turning to you. "Thank you sweetheart."

You blushed slightly at the compliments, before taking a bite of your pancakes. You´ve told them countless times not to thank you for your baking, because you honestly just loved to see their satisfied faces.

Vi and Cait started to talk about your plans for today, suggesting staying in and watching a movie. "Peach, what movie should we watch?", Vi asked. You thought for a while, before speaking up, "How about Spiderman?". Vi smiled, noding her head. You know that Vi loved to watch spiderman, always accepting the invitation to watch the movies with her.

"Again? We´ve watched it like 5 times this month.", Cait says. Vi looked at her dissapointed, making Cait give in. "Fine. Let´s watch spiderman.", she sighed.

You all moved to the couch, settling in. When the movie started, Vi laid in between your legs, while Cait settled onto Vi´s stomache. Your attenion drifted to the movie. You placed your hand on Vi´s head, stroking her pink hair. Her warmth in between your legs made you hot. You started to fantasise about those moments, late at night, when Cait sat on your face while Vi slurped you up. Your face heated up at that thought, you legs unconsciously closing around Vi’s hips, pulling her attention from the movie.

“Is everything alright, peach?”, she asked, also pulling Cait’a attention from the movie, which surprised you, because she ‘apparently’ hated spiderman. “Yes”, you answered, “Just getting comfortable.”

Vi placed her head on your boobs, turning her head to kiss them trough your shirt. They were satisfied with your answer, turning their heads to the TV. Vi’s head remained on your chest, which made you drift off to those memories again.

The dynamic between both women and you was always strong. Like a match made in heaven. You three never had problems in the bedroom, one always taking on the dominant role, switching once they pleased you. You always took care of each other, making sure everyone reached their climax, often reaching for more then one. Sometimes, when one of you had to work, you also spend your times with one of them. Licking Vi´s pussy, or scissoring with Cait. Or them eating each other out. You don´t mind it, always catching up.

You thought about touching them. Tracing your hands down Vi´s abs, or squeezing Cait´s thighs. You love them, and their beautiful bodies. It was exciting, taking of each others clothes, kissing their necks. You felt youself getting wet, trying hard not to grind onto Vi´s back. You wrapped one arms around Vi´s shoulders and out around her waist, reaching for Cait´s head, now stroking her hair. Vi placed her hand in yours and Cait sighed at your touch. You felt at peace.

But also incredibly horny.

Vi looked over her shoulder, noticing that you´re not paying attention to the movie. She thought about your thighs proped up against her waist. They are soft. She can feel it, even trough your pants. You saw her gaze on your face, catching her eyes, pulling her away from her thoughts. You stared at each other, making you smile. You leaned in and kissed her lips, Vi moving her head to give you better access. Her lips felt soft against yours, which made you want more. You slipped your tounge into her mouth, Vi moaning at the feeling. This cought Cait´s attention. She smirked at the sight of you two making out.

She never felt left out. Watching you both enjoy each other´s body always made her feel hot, heat pooling in between her thighs. Cait got on her knees, Vi´s thighs on hers. She placed her hands on Vi´s boobs, which made Vi gasp into your mouth. You took this advantage, thanking Cait in your mind, to deepen the kiss. There you were, making Vi loose her cool right in front of you.

Cait roamed her hands over Vi´s body, her hands reached her pants, slipping her fingers under her waistband. Vi lifted her hips, giving Cait permission to take of her bottoms. After she pulled them off she admired the view of Vi´s pussy. She could make out her wetness in between her lips. Cait slid her finger trough them, teasing her clit with the collected slick. Vi moaned. Her sound is like music to your ears.

You pulled away from the kiss, Vi following your lips before settling her head on your boobs again. You cought Cait´s gaze, smirking at her, pulling her in by the neck. Your lips connecting right in front of Vi´s face, made her bite her lip. She buckled her hips onto Cait´s fingers, moaning at the feeling of them touching her pussy.

You broke away from the kiss, looking into Cait´s eyes. She suddenly stood up, Vi whining at the cold feeling on her pussy. You watched Cait undress herself, her pants hitting the floor. You chuckled, knowing what she was planning.

She lifted Vi´s leg, placing her own over Vi´s hip. She moaned after feeling Cait´s pussy on her own. They started to grind on each other, moaning and groaning at the feeling. Cait leaned forward, connecting her lips with yours again. Your hands traveling to Vi´s boobs, pinching her nipples, which pulled a whine out of her mouth.

Their noises filled the living room, your own joining after Cait slid her tounge into your mouth. Your mind was spinning. You felt your nipples grazing against your shirt, making you buckle your hips onto Vi´s back.

Vi moaned, feeling overstimulated by the feeling of her clit grazing against Cait´s, your finger pulling at her nipples, Cait´s boobs right beside her face and your hips pushing against her. She felt her climax approach, her moans doubling on volume. Cait´s clit slid against Vi´s, making her cum, her loud moans letting you know that she reached her climax.

Cait slowed her hips, coming to a stop. Your hands left Vi´s chest, laying against her stomach. Vi cought her breath. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Cait´s.

"How you feeling, baby?", your voice pulling Vi from her mind. She sat up answering, "Horny." You chuckled at her answer, placing your hand on her cheek, stroking circles onto her skin. Cait looked at you two, her pussy dripping. She reached for you, her hands catching the bottom of your top, pulling it off of your body.

She smirked at the sight of your boobs, your hardend nipples catching her eyes. Vi watched you both, before pushing Cait on her back. "Let´s take care of you two, Yeah?"

You smiled, watching Vi crawl down Cait´s legs, her mouth reaching Cait´s clit. Both women groaned, one enjoying the taste, the other melting into her mouth. You sprung into action, pulling your pants of and tossing them on the ground. You walked up to Cait, your thighs placed around her face. She opened her eyes, grinning at the sight of your wet pussy. She placed her hands on your hips, forcing you on her mouth. She lapped at your slick, sucking on your clit. You held onto the couch, throwing your head back, a moan leaving your mouth.

You looked over your shoulder, watching Vi´s tounge dissapear into Cait´s pussy. The sound of moans filled the room again, your nipples hard because of the cold air. Yet the room was hot. Sweat appeared your face. The feeling of Cait´s fingers massaging your pussy pulled your attention to her again. You watched her other hand travel up your thighs, her fingers resting on your hole. She stared into your eyes before her fingers sunk into you. You groaned at the feeling of her streching you out. Your warm walls left her satisfied, her mouth connecting with your clit again.

Vi also brought up her hand, coating her fingers with Cait´s slick, before sinking them in. Cait moaned, which made you clench on her fingers. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, moans and groans filling the air, aswell as the sound of the movie, playing on the TV, which was long forgotten. You felt yourself getting closer, Cait´s tounge on your clit and her fingers stroking in a steady rythym, made your climax approach. Your hands cought your boobs, your fingers tugging your nipples.

Your climax hit you like a wall. Your hips riding Cait´s face, as your moans got louder. Your walls thighten until Cait couldn´t move her fingers anymore. You fell on Cait, your arms catching you as you looked down onto her. Cait pulled her mouth off your clit and her fingers out of your pussy, as she felt her own climax approach.

Vi quickend her pace, devouering Cait, as you pulled yourself off of her, your feet catching the ground. Cait threw her head back, a loud whine leaving her lips and her body stiffening. She rode out her orgasm, satisfied moans leaving her mouth.

Vi pulled away from Cait, sitting up as she gave you a proud look.

You loved free days.

#vi x reader smut #vi x reader #caitvi #caitvi x reader #cait x reader #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitvi smut

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jamminvroomvroom · 8 months ago

Note

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

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asifndsl · 2 years ago

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kmoneymartini · 8 months ago

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Drunk in love.

paige x reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTT with some plot, fluff, cussing, alcohol, pet names? (If that is one) I think that's all

A/n- this is my first fic. If it's terrible I'm open to constructive criticism! Also I literally live for Paige being a soft switch so that's literally all it is. Also I gave up on the ending bc i didn't know how to write it.

You were sitting next to Paige at the bar everyone goes to after a win. You could tell Paige was getting drunk because she's was getting a little more....handsy.

Right now her hand was rubbing up and down your thigh under the table while she talks about the highlights of the game to the team. Her fingers glide from your hip to your knee, her thumb ever so slightly on the inside of your thigh.

You and Paige had been friends since 6th grade when the blonde almost knocked you out during gym with a basketball. Figures.

"shoot, are you okay?" Little paige said.

"Yea I'm good, just dizzy."

"yea let's get you to the nurse, may have just given you a concussion.." she replied with concern.

Ever since then, y'all have been inseparable. Spending most weekends at each others houses or at her tournaments. She taught you the game of basketball. (Which you later came to love) And you rambled about the books you just finished. You were basically sisters.

When highschool started, Paige convinced you to join the Hopkins basketball team. At first you were adamant on just showing up for games, but blondie would not shut up about it till you tried out.

The next 4 years were the best of your life. Spending time with the team, especially paige. Going the state championships, and just being able to have fun.

Nothing changed when you both got into Uconn, She continued basketball while you studied literature and womens studies. You were always around the team, they loved you and you were practically part of the team.

Which leads us back to the bar. KK and Aaliyah dancing to the music blasting through the building while the whole team laughed and videoed them. Paiges hand still lingering around your leg as she drinks her Shirley Temple she swears has no alcohol. (Bull. Shit.)

"Paige you may want to slow down, you'll be miserable tomorrow." You say as she chugs her 3rd one down.

"nah baby I'll be fine."

"baby" that word. The word she uses when shes drunk and talks to you. The one that makes your heart stop, the one that makes your stomach fill with butterflies. The one that makes you wet asf. God you were so gay for this girl.

A few hours pass, and sleepy Paige is half awake on your shoulder while everyone starts to say their goodbyes.

"hey, p?" You say in a whisper

"hm?"

"Ready to go home?"

"mhm"

Now, just because you don't play basketball anymore, doesn't mean you don't go to the gym. Your pretty strong, strong enough to hold the 5'11 guard to the car. You pick her up bridal and haul her ass to the car near the entrance.

When you get home you wake Paige up again and walk her to your shared second story dorm, opening it up and locking the door behind you. Paige is a little more perky now, you made her eat crackers while she was still awake on the way home.

"Paige you wanna get a shower or just get comfy?"

"I'm tired" she clings onto you like she always does, always making you turn red.

"okay sweet girl, let's get you ready for bed." You help her to the bathroom and brush the gel out of her hair.

"you think you can get dressed on your own?" You ask

"Mhm"

"okay, get dressed and go to sleep okay?" You start to walk towards the door before she stops you.

"no, stay please"

"What?"

"stay here, please?" She begs

"Okay, let me change first."

"no, just wear one of my shirts, don't want you to go" she says as she stumbles to her drawer, grabbing a shirt with her name and number on the back.

You take the shirt and go into her connected bathroom to change before walking out. You see Paige staring you you.

"you look hot in my number"

"excuse me?"

You watch her look you up and down with a look of pure lust, making you wet by just standing there.

She gets up and walks towards you. "You look hot." "Extremely hot." You feel her hands on your waist, the sudden confidence she had, mixed with the tired rasp in her voice turned you on instantly.

"Paige, your drunk. Let's not do anything you'll regret." You say, your voice shaking slightly.

"mmm, I'm gonna regret not doing anything."

With that, your pinned against the wall, the taller blonds lips connected with yours. God she feels amazing. Her hands travel up and down your sides while yours find her hair.

"fuck, p. Please" your breathe between kisses.

"please what ma?" She replies.

"wanna feel good"

That's all you had to say before she whips you both around to her bed, laying you down gently without breaking the kiss. Her lips find their way to your neck just as her knee finds a way to your core. Causing you to moan from the sensation.

"paige please, fuck." You whine.

"shh, I'm gonna make you feel good baby, don't worry."

She lifts up your shirt, revealing the white sports bra underneath, which is also quick to come off.

"so pretty for me. So pretty." She praises as on of her hands travel to your tit, her mouth connecting to the other. You moan and arch your back, trying to get more friction to your clit.

her hand finds your heat, realizing you don't have shorts on, she starts rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves. The moans and whimpers coming from you surprise her. They sound almost pornographic.

"there you go ma, so wet for me." She whispers into your ear sending signals throughout your body.

"Paige please, please, fuck. Please fuck me"

She groans hearing your pleas for her. "Lift your hips up, princess." She guides your underwear down your legs and throws them on the ground before slowly pushing a finger into you. Earning a moan from you and a groan from her.

"good girl. so tight for me. Taking me so well." She praises.

"Paige more please. Please, need more"

She adds another finger, immediately curling them into your g-spot.

"Fuck baby please" the bubble in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as she moves her fingers.

"taking me so well pretty girl, so so good."

Paige feels you coming closer to the edge, so she dips her tongue into you, moving it with her fingers. A pornographic moan comes from your mouth as you tense up and shudder, cuming all over her fingers. She wastes no time cleaning up and helping you ride out your high.

"taste so good my gorgeous girl, so good."

After catching your breath with sweet kisses from Paige you lift yourself up on your elbows.

"wanna make you feel good paigey" you breathe out. "Please"

You sit up and kiss her, tasting yourself mixed with the alcohol on her lips.

"okay my love" she says, taking her shirt and bra off as well as her boxers.

You watch in awe, she beautiful. Her hair, her arms, her toned abs, god she's so pretty. You keep looking down until you see her soaking cunt.

"your beautiful" your say, still amazed.

You make your way to her clit. Floating your fingers and touching on the sensitive area lightly, making Paige squirm and whimper.

"please" she says, watching your every move.

You come up from her heat and kiss her lips, then her jaw, her neck, leaving a few hickeys and down her chest. Sucking slightly on her nipple and swiping over the other, hear her low moans.

"baby please please." She begs.

Hearing her become so vulnerable under your touch after giving you the best orgasm of your life gives you a confidence boost as you start bringing your hand down to her heat, sweeping your finger up and down her fold.

"doing good paige. So good." You whisper, finally dipping your finger into her, earning a gasp and moan from her mouth.

Realizing one finger would never get her to the edge, you add another, going faster and curling into the spot that makes her moan loudest.

"Fuck ma, please." She breathes

"I got you Paige, taking it so well."

You replace your fingers with your tongue. Dipping it into her heat as you suck at it, your nose hitting the bundle of nerves above her entrance.

She grips the shears, wrapping her legs around your head as you go deeper into her. Feeling her start to shake, you keep your pace, adding more pressure. You hear her get louder and finally scream from pleasure as she reaches her high.

You lick her clean before making contact with her lips again.

"so good baby, you did so well."

As both of you catch your breath, she wraps up into your arms and you fall asleep stroking her hair.

"god I fucked up."

~-TIME SKIP-~

In the morning, you wake up and realize what happened. Fuck. You end up carefully pulling yourself from the blondes tight embrace and start to gather and put on your clothes, but not before she wakes up.

"hey, what are you doing?" She asks groggly

"Paige I'm so sorry." You reply with watery eyes. Your scared for your friendship. You let your feelings take over. She was drunk and probably didn't feel the same.

"hey hey, ma come here" she says in a comforting tone.

You walk over to the bed with the naked guard wrapped up in blankets. She watches you sit down and look at her.

"I know I was drunk. But I wanted that. Don't feel like it was just a drunk hookup, at least for me? I feel like there's more to it." She explains, wiping a tear that fell to your cheekbone.

"really?"

"Definitely" she pulls you into her lap. Hugging you for a while before speaking again. "I want you to be my girlfriend"

"Paige what?" You pull away surprised

"be my girlfriend. I can't just live with you as my friend. I want you."

You think, not for long that is.

"why not" you peck her lips.

"fucking finally" she sighs, burying her face into your neck, leaving a small kiss there.

like I said, this was my first fic. I'm hoping y'all like it and thank you for reading till the end. I tried not using y/n because I thought it would be challenging so that happened.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #lil paigey #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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the second time we broke up l Lando Norris series

a/n: HELLO, I really like this concept and hope you enjoy it enough so I can come up with a third and final part that I have in mind <3 thank you for your messages, sorry for the delay on the requests, but I promise I'll get through them and announce the 1k celebration! <3

PART ONE HERE

pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: teeny tiny allusions to sex, wear words.

genre: angst and some fluff <3

summary: there were reasons to try again, but maybe not enough.

You mourned the relationship, your first relationship, the classic way: crying, ice cream, sad love songs, getting drunk, bashing him with your friends who trash talked him with you, more crying, trying to get back up, realizing your worth.

Learning to live with no Lando, your dorky friend and loving boyfriend.

On the other hand, Lando was angry. He didn’t let himself cry, feel sad, be sorry for himself, be apologetic. He was resentful. Did you feel superior to him? How could you do better than him, a Formula 1 driver?

Maybe it was his bruised ego talking, acknowledging you actually could do better than an immature F1 driver who couldn’t give you stability, the comfort you deserved, the attention he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) reciprocate.

He simply let go, detached himself from the situation and simply forgot about it; rolled his eyes whenever friends from home brought you up at the same time he was getting acquainted with other people. Lando Norris was just realizing the world was his and had to take advantage of it; he was wanted, he was desired, and he let it go to his head while walking the streets of Monaco, letting his eyes trace the silhouette of women who dedicated him a flirty smile.

He spent more time discovering Monaco’s night life, going out with other drivers and their social circles, leaving the club with a stunning woman by his side, gaining the experiences he lacked because everything he got to know was you.

This went on for the entire break, he rapidly left the family home after Christmas under the excuse of clearing his head, feeling comfortable in his new home, new country.

It all lasted until the season was supposed to start, but it didn’t.

In the blink of an eye, he was cloistered; no more night life, expensive champagne, exotic cocktails, waking up with a different figure every morning before gently letting them know it was time to leave.

For the first time he was realizing the hotel room was empty; one suitcase, one phone charger. The bathroom only had the miniature hotel goodies, there wasn’t a shampoo bar, some Lush shower gel (that he always used), no hair left in the tub, YLS perfume on the counter.

The next day he noticed Charles had a new girlfriend, Charlotte he heard, and he saw a bit of you in her; she was shy, educated, wealthy family, an outfit that could’ve resembled yours whenever you blessed the McLaren garage with your presence, and she was also carrying her laptop in order to get some reading done while supporting her boyfriend.

That was the moment Lando noticed you were missing.

He didn’t know what to do at first, what are you supposed to do to regain contact with your ex-girlfriend with whom you didn’t have the friendliest of break ups? It’d only been a couple of months, but he was aware he was different and of course you would be as well.

He tried to subtly ask Max whenever he flew over to Monaco (pretty much every weekend). His best friend only fed him small details here and there, knowing exactly the intentions of his friend, even if he tried to act all nonchalant and recounting his experiences with girls here and there.

But there was only so much Max could take.

“Mate, what’s the thing with (y/n)? Why do you keep asking me about her?” Max asked, Lando caught unprepared for the question (or outburst) of his friend.

“What do you mean? Of course I want to know about her, she’s still my friend,”

Max rolled his eyes. “Mate, you’ve rolled your eyes during the last month whenever someone brought her up, behaving like a child throwing a tantrum and now you’re all interested?” Max questioned his best friend, trying to use an understanding tone so Lando wouldn’t shut down. “I can’t help you unless you tell me, mate.”

Lando took a deep breath.

How was he supposed to tell him he missed you?

No, that was too simple, too ordinary, I miss you couldn’t begin to express the turmoil of feelings wanting to burst out of his lips after being muted and ignored for so long.

He enjoyed silence, but he missed your quiet humming.

He had fun meeting new girls, but he craved your body under, on top, against his own, like two pieces of a perfect puzzle knowing what the other needed.

He got annoyed sometimes when you asked him to keep his voice down while streaming, but he missed the scattered papers, books, class notes on the living room table, eyes closed and hair scattered over the table.

He hated his closet, full of hoodies, not one trench coat, denim or leather jacket, thick sweater.

He despised his kitchen, only watching his trainer approved food, no ice cream, hidden Maltesers as to not tempt him, bland orange Jaffa Cakes he’d always laugh and call you a grandma for having them.

He missed your careless figure, only a bra and thong or boy shorts roaming from the bathroom to the bedroom over and over again, always missing a t-shirt, a skin tint, a brush, a hair pin.

He hated himself for forgetting to call his mum, being used to you reminding him to FaceTime her.

And so he told Max everything; the void on his chest, the shivers in his arms, the empty side of the bed, the rose scented shower gel, the tingling on the palm of his hand, the exhaustion of trying to find you in other people when he knew there was no one like you, the desperation of thinking of you with someone else, the fear of not living the future he made up in his head.

Of course, after he let it out of his chest his best friend was staring at him as if he grew an extra head. Why didn’t you say this before? Lando answered he hadn’t realized, he wasn’t aware of his feelings, eyebrows rising when Max snorted; half mocking, half shocked at Lando’s cluelessness.

“Mate, you have to be honest with yourself if you even want a fighting chance,” Max knew if he didn’t tell Lando, he’d never be aware or liable of his actions. “Mate, she’s fine now, but it was such a low point, her parents didn’t want me to see her at first because I’m your best mate,”

Lando threw his head back in surprise, squinting, asking Max whatever he meant, because he was well aware of his feelings and what he longed for.

I cannot be the one to break it to you, mate. Those were Max’s words, and Lando was getting annoyed.

“Fuck’s sake, Max. what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? She’s the one who broke up with me!” Lando exclaimed with a raised voice.

Max groaned, an annoyed, i-can’t-believe-i-have-to-be-the-one-who-tell-you-this groan.

It’s your fucking ego, Lando. It got so fucking big don’t even know how a body as small as yours could handle that incredible vision of yourself when you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home and have some pints together, you didn’t care on calling for our birthdays, we got some fucking McLaren merch you told someone to send us, nothing. Max felt as if he was slowly emptying his chest.

Lando was shaking his head, the events he was hearing weren’t veridic, Max created a scenario that never happened.

Max continued, ignoring Lando’s denial.

And we are your friends, (y/n) was your girlfriend. Mate, you forgot about her and she didn’t even have to tell any of us because she was making excuses for you. Of course you were busy, mate, but so was her and you couldn’t care less. Bob, I’m telling you this because you are my best mate, but please hold yourself accountable. Yes, she was the one who announce the break up, but it wasn’t because she wanted to.

Taken aback, trying to come up with a response, Lando realized his walls were crumbling, his heart was aching, his brain was making the connections, bringing back the actions he knew were wrong.

Fuck you, mate. I’m still putting on a good word and try to come up with something, but fuck you, Bob.

Nothing a hug, a pint and Call of Duty couldn’t repair.

Three weeks went by where Max prepared the field for his friend, making sure every friend was on board, slowly settling ideas on their friends.

We all have free next weekend?

It’s been long since we’ve all hung out together.

We’ve all been studying and working so hard, we deserve to have a little break.

Do any of you have any ideas?

Lando told me we are all welcome at McLaren for Barcelona, two more weeks.

That’s when Max’s efforts and intentions were clearer. Lando wanted to make amends or bring back the group? Did he need something? Probably not, it still didn’t make sense.

Your friends agreed with very little hesitancy, probably assuming if Max was proposing the idea chances were you were in the loop of sharing a space with Lando, especially after the circumstances.

After everyone left you asked Max why would he put you in that position, knowing being back on the paddock would be full of awkward interactions for you, asking whether or not you were back with Lando, your name being thrown around on social media, strangers paying just a little more attention at you in classes, righ after you’d gotten over it.

But were you truly over it? The situation, yes. The wave died, only focusing on your well-being, learning to be without him.

Now, were you over him? Of course not. You missed his teary laugh, his messy curls in the morning, the glint in his eyes when he saw you get off the plane with your bag, the flutter on your stomach whenever he smiled at you, unafraid of letting you know how much he loved you.

It was two weeks, but felt just like a couple of minutes, boarding a crowded British Airways flight to Barcelona, using the excuse of having too much to study in order to not pay much attention to what was going on, Apple Music choosing the worst song choices for your state of mind.

But God, you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more

I’d say you broke my heart, but you broke much more than that

Now, I don’t want your sympathy I just want myself back

This was a terrible idea, your thoughts of getting up and announcing you didn’t feel so good so the plane couldn’t leave the ground. You weren’t ready to face Lando and all the feelings it’d bring back.

And don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

Ugh, and fuck this song as well. That’s the last thought on your mind before angrily opening a Maltesers family sized bag, preparing your nostrils to feel his perfume again, your hand to touch the soft fabric of his hoodies, your check for the courteous and familiar peck on the cheek.

The hotel was the same, papaya t-shirts walking all directions before going to the track, with some people not knowing you, others trying to hide their surprise before saying their heys.

And the rest was a blur, completely.

He saw you, you saw him.

Lando put on his best façade, a relaxed expression on his face, usual smile, normal stance. Neither you nor Lando lingered on the first hug, make eye contact after the greeting cheek contact, announcing you’d all go out on Sunday, Carlos would bring some friends and whatever.

Max expressed his frustration to Lando, noticing he didn’t do anything to even get close to you, with the driver telling his best friend he was paralyzed, his mind betraying him and not letting him think straight; your perfume too familiar, too starved of your touch, too drunk on your voice. But he tried his best, supported by his friends, Carlos patting his back before directing him towards you, using the excuse of you catching up with Isa.

Isa ad her boyfriend quickly fell into a quiet conversation, trying their best to give Lando and you the space required while both of you updated each other on whatever happened since you last saw each other.

And you were weak.

Weak for the veins showing on his arms, the grip of his hands on the bottle, the light stubble on his chin, Lando throwing a joke on the only reason behind the light hairs even seeing the light of day was because you weren’t with him because, being honest, you would’ve told him to get rid of it.

Maybe you wouldn’t fix things, but maybe you could get something from this trip. At least waking up next to him, stepping inside your bubble one more time.

Crazy stuff how body and soul connect, completely silencing your reasonable head screaming to get away from him, trying to remind you of the tears, the disappointment, the crushed self-esteem, the sleepless nights seeing him with girls who didn’t always look like you. Body on the other hand… was ready to throw it all overboard just to touch his lips again, caress the soft skin, draw the freckles and moles decorating the beautiful canvas called Lando.

That’s why you agreed to leave with him, but little did you know Lando’s thoughts never mimicked yours. He just wanted to walk you to your assigned hotel room, asking if you could talk; maybe now, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a couple of weeks, but he needed to inform you he’d be waiting for the conversation, the uncomfortable heart-to-heart.

And it happened.

He recounted the facts from his point of view: overwhelming welcome to the historic team, his name thrown around all over, everybody trying to get a bit of him, and in the attempt to please everyone, he neglected you and your history, disrespected the shared love and admiration, destroyed the strong pillars of your entire relationship.

You chronicled every phase of your process: the denial, anger, adoration, sadness disappointed. How the situation decimated the vision you had of yourself, trying to understand why your heart ached for him still.

He wasn’t afraid this time to let a few tears run down his beautiful eyes, quick to erase them and hide the quiver on his voice, to tell you he was willing to fight because after not having you, at the short age of twenty, he was sure you were his person, his meant to be.

You let him kiss you softly; not rushing, not letting your hands wonder over known but forbidden places. With the only purpose of trying to keep up, inform each other of the feelings, the love, adoration and need.

It was like the break up never happened, you were flying and walking next to him during the next GP, kissing his helmet for good luck. You’d never deny the awkward moments when he crossed paths with a regular paddock girl with whom he shared a short time with, but you were able to understand.

The love only grew.

This time, more mature and secure, no longer with books scattered and messy buns after days and nights of studying, you packed everything and moved to Monaco with him, taking his words to heart: you were his person, his meant to be.

Then years passed, and what you thought was a more mature relationship, more secure, crumbled down with one simple DM telling you a model was exchanging messages with Lando and were partying together a couple of weeks ago, a little too close.

You never questioned his late nights, inconvenient meetings, new projects. Never once doubted him and his love for you.

Now you are twenty three.

This break up was different. You were adults; more mature, with more to lose.

This time he was crying and you were angry; angry as you stared at the kitchen you had carefully chosen the right cutlery, the right shade of beige, the perfect vase. You had jumped, even when he gave you no reason at all to do it, your love for him was that great, sacrificing everything you could think of.

For it to end up like this.

He was crying. Not that fake crying with soft whimpers and sniffling. No, he was crying.

Lando was aware of the weight of his mistake, his brain knew the outcome, but his heart was trying to hold on for dear life, working to get a reaction out of you, doing everything in his power to show the desperation trying to crawl off his skin.

How could you? How can you be so selfish, when did you become this sorry excuse of a man who couldn’t tell me to my face you were seeing someone else, you chose to humiliate me. How can you care so little about me that you keep breaking me? What did I do to you to put me in this position? The painful thoughts and reality shaking you and letting

I am not seeing someone else! Baby, you flinched, yes we were exchanging messages and whatever but it meant nothing. You know a lot of influencers and fucking whatever message me all the time.

Yes, Lando, and you answer to each one of them. That’s what you told him while rolling your tearful eyes.

I know it was right there, borderline, I didn’t do anything, we just exchanged some messages, she was flirty and yes, I kind of followed along but she always knew I am in a committed relationship.

“Are you trying to make things worse?” That was your honest question, catching his desperation but devastated by the situation.

She found me. I was hanging with Max and Kelly and she found me, I don’t know how. I held her waist for like ten seconds and then she tried to kiss me and I backed away. Kelly even told her to go away, she even spoke in Portuguese, she can tell you that!

Stil you some how are not aware of your actions, Lando. Please tell me how you still are the same boy I fell in love you years ago, but not in a good way! you’re immature. Again, once again I’m here, in this fucking position, how am I supposed to get over this? I do not have the strength to get back up from this because you’ve somehow taken everything.

That was the catharsis, the implosion of your insides, breaking everything it came in contact with.

At least, this time you were not staying with things to tell him. This time you were letting him carry the burden of fucking things up.

“I gave up England, I gave up festivities with my family because you were tired, created this whole new life because it was convenient for you, your career, your everything and the last, the only thing I asked from you was respect, because it’s not enough for you to love me, you have to respect me and you keep showing me you don’t and it’s heartbreaking because I don’t know how, after all these years…”

The silence was unbearable, your pain was deafening. Lando’s helplessness palpable.

“I don’t know what to do for you to see everything I do, everything I sacrifice. For you to realize that I’m great, that I am not just a pretty girl for you to show around sometimes. I’m intelligent, I know that I am good,” Now you were choking, the sobs were excruciating even if your words didn’t make sense for Lando, but the feelings were strong your head was spinning.

“Why can’t you see that? Why do you put me in this position, humiliated once again when you are supposed to love me, respect me, cherish me…”

More silence. More desperation. More tearing.

“Or maybe I don’t deserve that?” You quietly asked him. Because maybe you were the problem, the factor why things failed. Maybe you really were not enough, the image of yourself not real, your love not that important, your presence not very needed.

Lando shook his head and said no, of course not, to please don’t say that.

“Maybe I have this image of myself and it’s not the truth, because I feel worthless, Lando. All I’ve ever wanted is to be enough for you, to be the person you come home to, and I don’t know why I failed again.”

He cried and denied everything, completely taking the blame, assuming the consequences but trying the last desperate resorts.

One month later, he was with the girl on a yacht.

Two months later, you saw them entering Lando’s parents house, iron gates opening and letting you catch a glimpse from across the street of your parents’ home.

That was the last time you saw Lando Norris.

At least for now.

#lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #f1 x you #f1 masterlist #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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lunas-side-anime-blog · 1 year ago

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AOT Icks (Eren, Armin and Mikasa)

one thing about me: i am a hater

Eren

def has mommy issues and no woman could ever compare to her like good luck to any of his girlfriends lmao

^^ that being said, as a roommate he’s a nightmare like you can tell his mom cleaned up after him all the time because it doesn’t even occur to him to do so now

toxic gym bro who says shit like “we all have the same 24 hours”

def has the the 3 in 1 bottle in his shower, I just know it

prob calls women “females”

the cringiest instagram captions like I know he will post sum: “I think my closet bi-polar, it keeps throwing fits💯” like dude, get a grip

attempts thirst traps, he has a ripped body so it kinda works but the content is so transparent you can’t help but roll your eyes

go out to a bar with him or something and he’s the type to try to make everything a fight

like if someone bumps into you, he's quickly in their face like "what's good bro😡” and you know its not actually about you so much as eren tryna beat someone up

i think he’ll use spit as lube thinking he’s so bad boy and lewd when it’s actually just so bad for your PH like ewwww (if u have a vag ofc)

i feel like his hair would get so greasy, mikasa and armin have had to force him down with shampoo in hand before

so gross but you came here for icks and I don’t believe Eren believes in holding back his farts for anyone

it can be the most intense and serious event like a funeral and he’ll rip a loud one and be like “what? it’s not good to hold it in??”

Armin

nail biter who will chew on them till the bone and you hear that loud ass “crONCh"

says he hates drama but that’s just something he says to not seem petty bc at the first sight of a fight best believe he’s sitting there, watching it all go down, wine glass in hand like "🍷🤨👂"

lil shit will even add lil comments to keep the beef alive, like i can see him loudly asking “okay but jean didn't you say her outfit made her look fat though?”

if you're in a debate with him, he’s the type to say something like “you're so uneducated about the subject, I’m actually pretty well versed in it” and your like "okay so what's all ur research then?" and he'll just quickly change the subject bc he didn’t actually have sources to cite lmao

is one of those bfs who would make fun of you for liking trashy tv but guess who eats that shit up everytime? armin.

he does that dad thing where he walks around in the living room and acts uninterested with what’s happening on the screen but he’s actually so invested and would be fuming if you dared watched an episode without him

i think he’d also be the type to try to be friends with his ex even if they obviously still have feelings for him, but if you dared even talk to yours he’d get all huffy and puffy like “go be with him then🙄”

got obsessed with skincare after watching your routine but u kinda created a monster bc now he’s critiquing your products and techniques? “Babe you should really consider a gel moisturizer, it’s better for your pores'' and you're like, “boy you used neutrogena when I met you???”

is that bf who will shower at your place and use up all your expensive washes and scrubs

not the best gift giver tbh, I think he’s a firm believer that all gifts should be practical so even if it’s a romantic anniversary date and he slides over a lil present, it’s probably just gonna be socks or something, srry

Mikasa

applies her chapstick like a man (iykyk)

“he know where home is” bitch, I hate to say it

i think she’s a girl’s girl until her man cheats on her, then she’d be the type to fight the girl and not really address her man…which is just… 😣

as a friend I think she’s sadly the type to unintentionally embarrass you bc she doesn’t get some social cues.

like you can miss a hang and ppl ask where you are and she’d just say matter of factly “oh they’re fine, they just have diarrhea rn!” and she won’t understand why you’d be mad?

outfit repeater to the max, she has like three tops that she likes and all pics of her are with her wearing one of those three tops

a lil delulu and prob genuinely believes all the tiktok pick a card vids on her feed

likes her coffee black and somehow thinks she’s better than everyone for that???

as a gf she checks your snap score and location regularly and has no shame in it 🙂

fights in her sleep like you will just be sleeping next to her all soundly and next thing you know you get punched in the face? she refuses to apologize in the morning bc she “has a right to defend myself in a nightmare” or whatever

when shes mad at someone she’ll post like ultra specific lyrics or captions and it’s so obviously targeted at one person everyone else is like "girl go to bed, don’t even post the quote…"

#aot headcannons #eren x reader #eren headcanons #armin headcanons #armin x reader #mikasa headcanons #mikasa x reader #modern aot #modern attack on titan #modern mikasa #modern eren #modern armin

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ravindsl · 9 months ago

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Best Fragrance Shower Gel for Women At Enchanteur India Store

Best shower gels for women, finest shower gels with captivating fragrances, Elevate your daily routine with our selection of the best fragrance shower gels for dry skin.

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gauravndsl · 11 months ago

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Best Fragrance Shower Gel for Women At Enchanteur India Store

Best shower gels for women, finest shower gels with captivating fragrances, Elevate your daily routine with our selection of the best fragrance shower gels for dry skin.

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cosmetic-products · 1 year ago

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#best shower gel for women #best shower gel #best shower gel for dry skin #best fragrance shower gel

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chiasaaa · 5 hours ago

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— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #x reader #blue lock #bllk #angst fic #fluff #slow burn fanfic

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