#but it’s something i really like thinking about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writersdrug · 2 days

Note

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader

1K notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 3 days

Note

can I request house wardens + leech twins with a reader who doesn't eat enough bc Crowley doesn't give them enough for food, and they end up really ill and collapsing or something. I'm cravin some fluffy comfort rn, pls and thank you 🙏

I got you🫡🫡 as someone who's been through an eerily similar situation, I really liked this request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ another crowley moment™️

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jade, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating

Riddle wouldn't even have to like you to rush to your side. but he does like you, which makes it all the worse

after checking your vitals, you're in the infirmary. he's got doctors for parents, after all, and he knows that malnutrition is bad

he should have seen the signs...

with exams coming, he's been so busy, and he assumed that you were just tired from studying

but he can feel guilty later. right now, he needs to focus on you getting well again, and not killing Crowley

(then, of course, he'll look for some legal statute or clause that he can threaten Crowley with so you're fed properly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona noticed you'd been acting a little weird lately, but watching you collapse still puts him in shock

luckily, Ruggie and Jack are nearby to help you to the infirmary, so Leona can focus on hunting Crowley down like an animal

there are very few times where Leona is particularly grateful for his status, but this is one of them. just one word on how his family will be hearing about Crowley's neglect, and the old bastard is begging him for forgiveness

even after that, Leona still sends Ruggie with snacks and drinks to Ramshackle

and if you ever scare him like that again, you'll regret it (lovingly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the news of you collapsing during flight lessons reaches Octavinelle rather fast. no one is particularly surprised, since Floyd had mentioned how easily you'd been bruising lately just the night before, but everyone is certainly worried

Azul is the first at your side, asking you all sorts of questions, worried sick. Jade has to remind him to give you space to rest, since you look exhausted (had you always had those dark circles? how could Azul have not noticed?)

now, Azul and the tweels could easily find a way to pressure Crowley, but they know better than to trust him

from now on, you'll be eating in the Mostro Lounge, free of charge

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

perhaps Kalim was just oblivious, because he really didn't think anything was wrong until you were suddenly on the floor in front of him

sure, you'd been a little moody lately, but he figured it was just a thing you were going through. and besides, you know that you can talk to him about anything... right?

Jamil hurries to check your pulse, and shouts for him to get the school nurse- which is jarring, because Jamil never shouts

when you explain everything to Kalim later, he feels... terrible. he should've known- no, he should've asked

Kalim insists you stay at Scarabia while you're recovering, and makes sure you have the most enriching, delicious meals money can buy

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil knew it was bad, but not this bad. if he had known you were on the verge of collapsing, he would've taken a firmer approach to getting you to eat

you're going to worry him to death someday, you know that?

after he's done verbally eviscerating Crowley, he'll insist on joining you at every meal. he'll eat at Ramshackle, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if that's what it takes

he's subtle about it, at least

if he notices that your plate feels empty, he'll just take some food from his and put it on yours. gracefully, elegantly, without a word

you'll come home one day to see your kitchen stocked with vitamins, supplements, and apples (courtesy of Epel)

<3 and a note that says he'll treat you to dinner whenever you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

never scare Idia like that ever again. he wasn't even with you when you collapsed, and he STILL nearly had a heart attack

listen, he knows he's not a great role model when it comes to nutritional eating, but you have got to tell him these things. he would've had Ortho go get takeout! or something!

typical Crowley behavior, SMH. what does he think you are? a rabbit? even the school horses get treated better...

no way that Idia is going to even bother with that old fart, anyway. you want something? he'll get it for you. you don't even have to ask, he'll just send food to your place (and have Ortho check your vitals more often but shhh)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I would not want to be in the room when Malleus finds out about this

not even the building. you know what? I'd steer clear of the whole island, because it will not be pretty

when you collapse in front of him, it feels like he's dying, too. the panic sets in, and he sends Lilia to look after you, and Silver and Sebek to escort you to the infirmary, and then he casually threatens to smite Crowley. obviously

if the students and staff of NRC thought Malleus was scary just being Malleus, he's terrifying when he's mad

(rest assured that you will be getting ten times the amount of food from now on)

it's thunderstorms for days after, but he never leaves your side

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

886 notes · View notes

knightofleo · 2 days

Text

Angela Orosco Silent Hill 2

#in anticipation of the incoming remake #i tried my best to imitate the SH font but #silent hill #silent hill 2 #angela #angela orosco #theme of laura (reprise)#i've said it before but in spite of its occasionally clunky diction i think silent hill 2 is an unusually emotionally intelligent game #for any year and still today but especially so for where gaming storytelling was in 2001 #and for as many pitfalls a story like hers could've dipped into i think it particularly shines through with how they treated angela #not just choosing to depict victimhood as something that can be ugly and fractious and open quote “difficult” but then this #actively rebuffing james for trying to be a white knight and dressing him down for it too #“i know you mean well and want to help but this isn't a simple problem and it's really hurtful and a bit insulting that you think you can”#the switching to a first person view turning it into an address to the player as well #maybe even old videogame tropes too #“this isn't some princess in a castle kind of situation dude this is more serious than that”#it felt like a very deliberate statement about the depth and severity of a trauma like this and in doing so showing it so much respect #and then angela just leaves #i really don't think it was to imply that it consumed her i think it was to underline what was just said #this is where your part in this story ends #this isn't your problem to fix #there's some strength in that

162 notes · View notes

mythicalmaven · 2 days

Note

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected.

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening?

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling.

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more.

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

��I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

vincentbriggs · 3 days

Note

so i am newly in a wheelchair which has been a Massive gain in my ability to go out and about. but i realized that i have aprox 0 clothes that look Good while seated. its a completely different silhouette and i am at a loss as to what to do for it. do you have any suggestions for what could look good seated? preferably no skirts or dresses.

Edit: Check the notes for more people's input, including actual wheelchair users who know much more about what works than I could!

Congrats on chair acquisition!!

Since you're sending this to me specifically I am working under the assumption that you mean to do some amount of sewing.

A high waisted silhouette definitely works best for sitting. I make all my pants with the waistband at my natural waist, and a bit of pleating or gathering at the back just like they did on 18th century breeches, and I've never noticed any particular discomfort from sitting in them. (I think high waisted pants are more comfortable in general, and that low rise jeans are evil.)

It's something I've never really thought about before, but sitting is a very legs-forward position, so perhaps a colourful or fancy stripe down the side would work well.

(I made this pair 10 years ago and they didn't fit well and are long gone, but I should do a better version someday...)

Or some other form of side seam decoration, like these fabulous button tabs.

(I don't know what the source for this mid 19th century fashion plate is.)

Cropped jackets would also be good. The first thing that comes to mind for me is the Carmagnole, which was a style worn by French revolutionaries. It's got a pretty similar cut to a regular 1790's coat, just shorter.

(Source)

And there are other styles of short jacket, like this one from a few decades later.

I think it might be possible to get a similar effect from cutting down a thrifted corduroy jacket, depending on the pocket placement? It's not something I've done myself though.

A fancy little bolero could be a lot of fun too! I quite like these ones made by Marlowe Lune. Super easy to sew, and could be patterned by cutting down a bigger pattern that fits the torso.

They'd be a good thing to try if you have a smallish piece of fancy fabric, or a small bit trim to use, or want to try a small amount of embroidery.

There are lots of historical styles with sleeves too, and all sorts of decorations.

(Dunno the source for this one either, unfortunately, but the pin says 1880s reception dress. I think a little jacket like that would look good with a puffy shirt and pants.)

Short capes might be practical too, and the late 19th and early 20th century have tons of fancy capelets for inspiration, like this one.

Or this one.

I hope this is somehow helpful! I don't know if you're looking to sew things from scratch or to buy and alter stuff or what, and I have no personal experience using a wheelchair, but these are the best things I can think of for a suitable silhouette. Dramatic sleeve/shoulder puffs would also be shown off to great effect, if that's something you'd like to wear.

#ask #clothing #wheelchairs

662 notes · View notes

amirasainz · 2 days

Note

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #christian horner x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #redbull!reader #driver!reader

862 notes · View notes

galactaknightyaoi · 3 days

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GALACTA KNIGHT!!!! And congratulations to Meta Knight for experiencing the Cain Instinct for the first time.

Galacta Knight, as you might've been able to tell already, is one of my favorite characters, and KSSU is one of my favorite games (the original SS was my introduction to Kirby!) so I wanted to go all out. Happy day, old man. I pray for at least 20 more years.

Oh, and don't worry! He's not upset about the cake smash, he thinks it's funny. And he got back at him.

As for the in-universe explanation for there being 16 candles in his cake?

... 500+ didn't fit in safely.

The birthday boy and his family were just a bit too flammable.

#kirby #kirby series #galacta knight #meta knight #umm idk why i colored the text i don't talk like this #anyway average latino birthday party occurrence #i experimented this time !! i'm not sure about it but i like how this ended up looking anyway #i think it definitely works better on a smaller scale #anyway. TEENAGE KIRBY REVEAL. he's like 12-17 here. and mk's gay little outfit reveal too #i decided to go this direction because #1 - timeline accurate #2 - the red cape just fit better with the whole color palette #3 - i love drawing fluff #and 4th and most importantly. i just wanted to #did you know there was supposed to be more parts?#i might post them eventually #though they're nothing special #funny mk expressions though #my art #all of these were done while listening to g3 mlp songs in the background on loop #i want you to take that as a warning #because one of these days i'm gonna break #and make something really cringe #EDIT: WHERE THE FUCK IS MY TRANSPARENCY #promise the second one isn't supposed to look that ugly

168 notes · View notes

luveline · 2 days

Note

can I pls pls pls get an other single dad Spencer I'm on my knees here jade baby! I would love a fic where they r dating and reader comes over and basically Amy is like ur his gf?? But I thought u were my best friend?! And she's upset and reader is just like babe I can be both! Obvs we r bffs! And then May be she asks Spencer if she can take amy out of ice cream or something just the girls

thank you for your request! fem, 1.4k

Peeling Amy’s grapes is a repetitive, calming task. You press your nail to the top of the grape where the stalk had been, carving away a sliver of the fruit as you pinch the skin and pull. It comes away in small, triangular pieces that you put in the bowl on your lap.

You put the naked grape in Amy’s hand. They’re seedless, so all she has to do is chew.

“Thank you,” she says, distracted by the TV.

“You’re welcome.” You move to another grape.

You’re sitting together on the couch in Spencer’s apartment. Spencer sits at the dining table across the way, writing a letter, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Bright afternoon sunlight ebbs in through the window behind the kitchen sink to kiss his arms and illuminate his workspace, a beam of it catching his arm, his fine hairs like strands of gold.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we still going to the library?”

“Yeah…” His writing gets very fast. He finishes it off with a smile and a resounding period, picking the paper up and folding it in a clean half. “I can post my letter at the same time.”

You watch him give his hair a vigorous scratching as he stands. “I’m gonna go get a sweater,” he says, making for his bedroom.

You follow him until he’s gone. Amy hums, kid-talk for please pay attention to me.

“Oh, sorry. Forgot your grapes.”

“Why do you look at him like that?”

You smile shyly. “Uh, like what?”

Her brown eyes widen as her eyebrows pinch together. “I don’t know. You looked at him for a long time.”

“I guess I like looking at him, ‘cos I really like him. You’re beautiful because of so many things, but your dad is part of the reason. He’s beautiful, so you’re beautiful.”

She wrinkles her nose, but she’s smiling. “You really like him?” she whispers.

“Of course I do,” you whisper back, “he’s my boyfriend.”

Amy winces hard. “What?” she asks.

She’s suddenly and emphatically incredulous. You take her hand, but she takes it right back and stands up on the couch. She gives you a weird look as she backs away, sitting heavily on the armrest. “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Why do you think I’m always here these days?”

You know you’ve said the complete wrong thing the moment it leaves your mouth. You’re honestly shocked she didn’t know; Amy is a very smart little girl, and you were under the impression she knew about you and her father being a couple. But she’s also just a little girl, with big feelings.

“I thought you were here to see me,” she says softly.

You push the bowl of grapes across the coffee table, remorseful. “Amy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I come here to see you, too, of course I do, I love spending time with you.”

Her eyes fill with tears. She’s not a crocodile crier, at least not when you’re around. You know these to be the genuine deal, and that makes it much worse for you.

“Babe, I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. I’m here to see you, too, it’s not just to see your dad.”

“Because we’re best friends,” she says.

“Of course we are.” You open your hands. “Of course.”

She finally takes your hands, despite her tears. Her face has turned dark with a hot flush, embarrassment twisting her lips into an expression that turns your heart.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you whisper. “Can you forgive me? You’re so important to me, Amanda.”

Spencer appears behind her looking like a deer caught in bright headlights. You ignore him, giving Amy’s fingers a rolling squeeze.

“I thought we were best friends– and– and–” She sucks in a shaky breath as a fresh crest of tears fall. “I thought you were here to see me.”

“I am here to see you.”

You’ve done loads of things with Amy without Spencer’s involvement. If he sleeps in, you and Amy watch cartoons together in your pyjamas eating breakfast burritos. You’ve babysat her on short notice, you had her for a sleepover once so he could give a talk in Michigan. You and Amy do tons of things without her father, like eating peeled grapes, and jigsaw puzzles while he reads, and girl talk. You cuddle.

Poor girl.

“Amy, I love you.”

“You do?”

“So much!” You wipe the tears from her chin.

“I didn’t know that– that dad was your boyfriend,” she says bashfully.

“Me and your dad started as best friends, that’s why. He’s my second bestest friend ever.”

“Who’s number one?” she asks.

You poke her chest gently. “Who do you think?”

She nods and looks down. She wipes her cheeks, and that’s what upsets you the most in the whole ordeal. Her hands look small and uncoordinated.

“You okay, angel?” Spencer asks, coming up from behind to hug her.

“Sorry,” she says.

“It’s okay. Crying is okay,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I didn’t know you were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Spencer says, giving her arm a soft up and down, “when I told you we were dating I should’ve been more clear about what that means. I’m very sorry we confused you.”

“It’s good!” she says, sniffling, pressing a little sob into Spencer’s chest.

You bite your cheek. You really hadn’t meant to do this to her, just she’s as empathetic as her father. She’s a bubbling mess against him.

You look at Spencer. It’s your fault, you misspoke, and you’re asking him to save you as a kindness.

“What’s making you cry, sweetheart?” he whispers, pulling her right into his chest.

“I just wanted to be her best friend.”

“You are,” he whispers, nose against her temple, “I might be her boyfriend, but you think she likes me so much she’s here every single weekend? No way. She sees me every day at work, she doesn’t need to come over if all she wants to do is see me. But you know who she doesn’t see at work?”

“Me…”

“Exactly. She comes here every weekend to be with you, so we can all be together. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, taking in another shaky breath.

“Are you crying because you’re still upset, or because it’s just a feeling?” he asks softly, slowly. “It’s okay if you’re still sad, but maybe we need to have some water?”

“Okay,” she says, stretching it into one big cry.

“Could I give you a hug?” you ask. You’re lost.

She nods. Spencer says, “Okay, you guys hug and I’ll go get my Amy a glass of water.”

You fold Amy into an embrace carefully. She’s heavy with her upset but she wants the hug, her arms at your sides as she rubs her nose against your shoulder. “Amy,” You say, taking a pause to brush her hair from her warm neck, “I’m sorry, angel. I really am. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She sounds just like her dad as she replies. “I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Well, that’s okay! If I thought you didn’t want to be my friend either I would be just as upset.”

“You would?”

“Amy, do you know how much I love seeing you? I would sit here and watch TV and peel grapes with you every day of the week, I’d love to…” You hope Spencer won’t mind what you’re about to suggest. “In fact, maybe you and I need to do more things together, what do you think? When was the last time we went to Penny’s Ice Cream Parlour?”

She looks up at you with love and apt suspicion. “You just want me to feel better.”

“Of course I do. I should be allowed to take my favourite girl for ice cream, right?”

Spencer hesitates in the kitchen with the fairy glass half full. You’re stroking Amy’s hair away from her neck, so sorry, and so lovely. He couldn’t want anything more in life than Amy, but if he got to choose, he would love to have you, and to have you treat her as you are now, nothing but affection in your touch as you soothe her overstimulation. “We can go alone?” Amy asks.

“Sure, bubby, we can go just you and me. Banana splits?”

Spencer loves her, but he loves ice cream, too. “Wait, why can’t I come?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

696 notes · View notes

salemlunaa · 2 days

Text

SHIFTING ISNT MAGIC, ITS NOT SPECIAL ꨄ

you need to understand that if you ever want to leave this place….

i feel like me and so many bloggers have stated this but for the millionth time, here we go!!

you cannot fail to shift, nope. sorry. idc what you think, it genuinely isn’t possible, manifesting is shifting, wether you have manifested actual things you wanted or you’ve manifested that awful mindset where you are so sure you can’t shift and tap in to the void, you still shifted to a reality where that was true by manifesting it.

Stop thinking shifting is impossible, it isnt, like at all. The reason you fail is because you think this is impossible and that you're using some magic method to live a new life but you’re not, there are infinite realities and the idea that you have your dream life is the fact in many realities, so for those who wanted the logical side to thinks there you go, it has been proven that we live in a multiverse, so shift your consciousness to a reality where you have all you have dreamt of. the void isn't some magical place it is in you, it IS you, you need to remember that

I saw this absolutely perfect analogy on @rainshifts page: think of the universe as a chocolate chip cookie and the different realities as the chocolate chips. When we shift consciousness, we aren't jumping from chocolate chip to chocolate chip, we are the batter the ingredients we ARE all those chips, not jumping to and from them. We are not new characters in our desired realities we ARE those realities

The reality in which you want to be in isn’t some faraway place where you are new character, that reality is in you, it is you, all you are seeing now IS you. You are the fabric, nothing less

Shifting consciousness isn’t special, if you have a brain you are more than capable of shifting consciousness, again, we were born for this, it’s not some special, magical talent, it’s something that is as simple as breathing, something that has been owed to us since the beginning. Stop asking bloggers the same questions, if you have the intent it can be instant, you need to remember shifting isn't some form of magic, it's a basic human ability that only requires the brain. you're just shifting consciousness, you're just shifting your awareness to a specific reality, it's not magic or some cool discovery you can do it instantly if you believe that you're god of your reality

believe that you are the operant power and it’s done, look to imagination, you have shifted because it’s as easy as breathing the void is a lifeless space that only gains power when YOU, PURE CONSCIOUSNESS step into the equation.

The reality you’re in now only has life to it because you’re consciousness has been placed here, shift it with ease simply because you can.

STOP MOPING ABOUT HOW HARD THIS IS, ITS REALLY NOTHING SPECIAL 🐆💋

652 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 23 hours

Text

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

#gravity falls #the book of bill #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #scalene cipher #bill cipher #euclydia #scalene and euclid #(euclid's only mentioned in passing but at some point i'll do a matching post about him too)#(scalene's made up fictional condition's inspired by like 2/3 scoliosis and 1/3 ehler dahlos)#(but again it's a fictional condition for fictional aliens. not an accurate 1:1 reflection of anything irl)

533 notes · View notes

innerfare · 2 days

Text

You’re Jealous

Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy: He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.”

Zoro: He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings.

Sanji: Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life.

Ace: He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.”

Sabo: Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.

Law: Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty.

Kid: He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece angst #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #sabo x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kid x reader

656 notes · View notes

soodoonimin · 1 day

Text

See Logan is very soft and loving and gentle with whoever is lucky enough to have his affections. So I think once he began to realize his feelings for Wade he almost immediately stop hurting him.

And this would confuse the hell out of Wade.

So much so that he starts doing extra annoying shit just to make sure he hadn’t entered a new level of insane. Because did Logan seriously not stab him after he smacked his ass?? Did Logan really let him get away with calling him “baby girl” in front Laura?? Was James Logan Howlett’s only reaction to being kissed on the forehead with red lipstick really to just tell him to “don’t ever fucking do that again”???

He’d question Logan about it for sure and unsurprisingly he’d be evasive as fuck about it, he’d probably even deny it.

Mind you I think Wade does kind of like the pain and physical closeness the occasional stabbing from Logan brought him so not only is confused but he also kind of misses it and in some weird way thinks he did something wrong and he spends weeks trying to figure out why the The Wolverine suddenly stopping hurting him.

When he finally figures it out his head nearly explodes from excitement.

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #poolverine #deadclaws #can someone write this for me pleasssseee #I have too many fics to write and I can’t keep adding to my list without finishing any #😭😭😭

794 notes · View notes

caramelkoo · 2 days

Text

honeysuckle

boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut

summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.

warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.

a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo

"Oh yeah baby, just like that"

"You fuck me so good"

'Take my cock like a good slut you are"

Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.

Step 1 : take an everything shower

Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background

Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.

Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.

Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.

You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.

Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.

Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.

Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.

If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?

After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.

As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".

Spoilsport, your ass.

Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.

The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.

When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.

You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"

When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.

"What's with the song, sweetheart?"

"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"

After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.

You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"

"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.

"What was that?"

"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.

"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.

Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"

Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.

"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.

Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"

Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.

"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"

Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.

Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.

Him.

Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.

When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?

With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.

Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?

"So, how was the business trip?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"

You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.

"Jungkook"

"Come here"

"Wh-"

He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'

You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.

Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.

His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.

"How long did you say they were going at it?"

You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"

He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.

"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"

Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?

"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"

The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.

"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.

She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.

His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.

"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"

The sound that leaves her is filled with need.

"Jungkook, baby please."

He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.

Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.

His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.

Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.

"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.

His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.

Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"

Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.

She screams.

"That's my girl"

He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.

"You want it faster, sweetheart?"

"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"

Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.

"Oh my fucking god"

"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"

He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.

She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.

When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.

"Aghh"

It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.

When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"

Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"

"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.

At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.

He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"

He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.

"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.

"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.

Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.

"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.

"I love you"

"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.

Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.

Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.

Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.

He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.

The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.

Thrust Thrust Thrust

As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.

"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"

Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.

He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.

A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"

"That was…" you bite your lip.

"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.

his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"

"One more?"

"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"

He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.

Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.

"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,

"So warm"

Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.

His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.

So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.

Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"

When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.

He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"

Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"

So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.

Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.

"I fucking love this body of yours"

She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.

Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.

"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"

He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.

He hopes.

590 notes · View notes

seventeenpins · 2 days

Text

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea.

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-”

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.”

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance.

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble.

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you?

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him.

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin.

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything.

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat.

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake.

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess?

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple.

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder.

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens.

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-”

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text.

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play.

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it.

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt.

You’re at his house an hour later.

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you.

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

#logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan x reader #logan x f!reader #logan x fem!reader #logan howlett smut #worst logan #worst wolverine

519 notes · View notes

mythicalmaven · 1 day

Text

Revealed Desires - Lando Norris

(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)

Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)

Masterlist This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately) ↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 8,9K ↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her. ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,

It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.

Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.

By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.

Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.

"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."

Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."

Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."

Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.

Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."

Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."

Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."

Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.

"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"

Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."

Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."

Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"

Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."

Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"

Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.

Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."

Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"

Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."

With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.

Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"

Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.

Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.

Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"

Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."

Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.

Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"

Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."

Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."

Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"

Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"

"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"

*The following day*

Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.

As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?

His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.

"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.

When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.

Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.

As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.

Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."

You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."

But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.

Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.

"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.

You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.

“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.

Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”

Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”

Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.

“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”

But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.

As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.

“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”

“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.

“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.

The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”

You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.

Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”

Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”

The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.

“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”

Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.

The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.

“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.

The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.

Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.

“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.

And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.

When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”

Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.

Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.

But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.

But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.

But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.

“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.

Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.

Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”

But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.

Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”

You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.

You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”

You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”

His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.

Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.

You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.

But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”

Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.

You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”

Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.

Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.

But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.

“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”

Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”

Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.

With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.

You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”

Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”

“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”

With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.

He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.

With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.

Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”

His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.

Masterlist | Promptlist (requests are still open)

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #formula 1 smut #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 2024 #mclaren f1

534 notes · View notes