#my fixations are acting up again
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squuote · 1 year ago
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Realized how often the Narrator anthropomorphizes things in the Ultra Deluxe in order to encourage or bait Stanley. Which is so much different than how he was in the past endings, specifically the apartment ending. The way he now refers to all the different quotable and memorable objects in the game as Stanley’s friends.
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There’s just something about the way the Narrator does at least deeply try to relate to Stanley’s need as a human, understanding more that we are sociable creatures. Giving us the bucket as something to cherish and playing along with the notion (despite getting very obviously upset when Stanley gets too attached to the bucket and then tries to break down that narrative). The attempt made to actually reach out to Stanley in a human-like way.
I don’t know where I’m going with this but the attempt at connection through the similar actions of a person or something like that. Acknowledgement of human needs, even if it's more or less the bare minimum effort.
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lolathepeacocklord · 7 months ago
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goodness gracious lola speedpaint !!!!!!!!!! in the real !!!!! ive been on a real kick drawing lately (or at least have been trying to) and ive gghuyuughgughtguthgutghtugdhudhgjdhgsjdf become really autismed about these messed up creatures from tee eff ayyyyyy animated 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰im almost at season 2 gang im going to become even more grotesquely into these beasts very soon !!!!!! heart emoji !!!!!!
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widevibratobitch · 21 days ago
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actually im kinda happy with it lol probably because ive given up quite some time ago but yknow. its not that serious.
#thank ye gods of mediocre adult animation shows for doing everything in your might to de-twinkify him i appreciate it 🙏#they gave my man a moustache AND a sugar mommy#insane. ill take it!#if i had a nickel for every time i fixated on an evil little dude with a moustache and a sugar mommy... two nickels indeed#and that's before i even knew he had either of those! its like i have a sixth sense for this lol#hazbin leaks#tagging just in case#anyway i am kinda disappointed they're taking the sillygoofy way out about it when the huge great evil drama had been so heavily hinted at#but they would have fucked it up anyway so all in all i think this was the best Other way out. AND the song slaps. im happy honestly#anyway time to get into something serious again but ngl its kinda fun obsessing over something thats like. still a work in progress.#i dont get that often. fun! just shameless entertainment! (well not completely shameless but oh well. a little shame is good for the soul)#pity they seemed to have dumbed him down and not in a pilot!alastor way but oh well. ive survived worse shit done to my blorbos 💁‍♀️#wish we could have just have him stay Actually Fucking Evil and yknow. also Actually Scary. i miss his pilot self every day#but like hey. whatever. we just vibin. the version of this show that exists in my head only is soooo good and ive made peace with it already#the actual show is more like a parody of it and its fine. just give me simple music that slaps and some good voice acting and we good
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rioblitzle · 6 months ago
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oh yah reminder again about my pokemon sideblog ( @m4nectric ) where i reblog a ton of pokemon fanart! i tag every character so it can act like a wee archive for when i want to see pictures of a little guy. a lot of my pokemon reblogs are going there instead of here nowadays so if you want to see slightly more pokemon content on your dash you can give it a follow
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blueish-bird · 6 months ago
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becoming a more frequent occurrence to see a post about living with OCD, relating, then pushing it out of my mind because if I think too much about whether or not I have OCD I might begin to ruminate on it and stress myself out ... (obsess, one might say) ... but i digress
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silverislander · 1 year ago
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fully intended and foreseen consequence of coping better with my anxiety is that this blog will at some point inevitably become More Cringe and that point is SO close on the horizon. if you get mad at me for posting things i like on my blog that is for me you clearly have more issues than i do for worrying abt that possibility for hours on end
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#its tumblr were all cringe here. fucking grow up or leave genuinely#also i literally tag everything im into + trigger tags too. block tags or just unfollow me theres no hard feelings i prommy#anyway. ive been falling back into creepypasta which ive mentioned before i was super into as a teen! fun stuff#i love that the fandom is still alive and doing fun new stuff :') theres such good art out there!! and character interpretations!!!!#and ive also gotten really into league lore over the past few months actually. the arcane fixation has morphed#basically it went 'this character looks cool whats their deal. whats this region like. oh another neat character lets look into that'#and then suddenly i know too much™️ bc hyperfixations for me are about gathering information and stories like a raccoon#i have FEELINGS about it. post probably incoming soon abt that#and BRIAR!! shes a little gremlin i kind of love her already#levi.txt#will i delete this in the morning? lets see#but for real tho. im doing really good lately. things arent perfect but i feel like a person for once#i can talk to strangers without acting like a trapped prey animal! it turns out im fucking funny actually! people like my jokes#im SLEEPING again. regularly. that was an issue for nearly a year and im doing ok again (not perfect but hey! ~8hrs!!)#i can just. sit around in public now and not feel like im on a hidden camera show where everyone is judging the way i breathe#slowly switching from self deprecation 'i want to die' jokes to 'im literally gods favourite prince and the hottest bitch alive'#i still get really nervous but it doesnt feel like a personal flaw and it doesnt feel insurmountable anymore#so yeah naturally thats going to come with (hopefully) a lot less shame around things that i like#just asking kindly that people are normal abt it. this is me thriving i guess
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wizardrights · 2 years ago
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do y’all know the hunger games audio books are on spotify for free? literally haven’t been able to stop listening and when i had to stop listening i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it
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calpalsworld · 4 months ago
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I really want to find some way to fix the problem but that desire is my compulsion (?) and it never actually fixes the problem. I tell myself to drop it and focus on other things like my art, but I just wish I could fix it now. The only way I can fix it is through ignoring it. And that will take time. (but also it feels unsafe to ignore it, because i feel like it is a real issue even though its probably not a real issue).
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void-tiger · 4 months ago
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Maybe I’m doing pretty well at containing this, actually. Or at least not the WORST about it…
#tiger’s roar#…I have. liked this idiot for approximately 2 years now#and a good chunk of that in absense#which like. all the ‘advice’ is for when things are truly one sides and limerantic fantasies. which. I just can’t relate to#but…yeah. I don’t need to be blamed for feeling something I’d already decided not to act on and let them decide if not Friends Good#’cause other people can’t mind their damn business and Stay Out Of It#why do I keep looking up ‘psychology of wuv’ even when it’s allonormative and fixated on limerance and makes me feel like crap?#’cause the Doubts I feel from my own insecurity on days I struggle to trust the idiot at their word are kinda awful#and like. I’d drop my feelings and truly have an uncomplicated friendship if it did get to be that simple#(we all know it’s not. that’s not how humans work.)#but…yeah. we’re both NOT doing the ‘typical attraction things’ and yet it’s so damn obvious by our Vibes it’s caused trouble#and sure. I THINK we finally have an understanding now. have both worked on trusting the other person at their word#(them with no I’m not going to push for more than anything but finding a midpoint that’s comfortable for both of us as friends.#(me at trusting them that when they say they want to be friends it’s not someone being ‘nice’ yet again#and well…best I can tell they’re looking forward to basically being reunited too#I’m just. worried that I’ll get flack again from others + their projections#and then have my own distortions triggered in response to theirs#when. if I don’t ‘match’ an attraction model even if I could express freely without people screwing with me or the other person#then…I have to accept someone else doesn’t either. and believe them at their word#because the respect and care we have for eachother is just as obvious to others as me relaxing and them lighting up
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squuote · 6 months ago
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comparing dialogue once again as you do. anyway. this cut dialogue from the other games ending vs the the 2011/ultra deluxe final game dialogue is interesting. frying my mind a bit.
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no deeper meaning to this post i just think it is. intriguing. i love dialogue comparisons sorry </3
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sukunasteeth · 8 months ago
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When Sukuna kisses you, it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest.
You started out perched on his lap, but by now he's reduced you to a boneless, panting heap in his grasp. His arms supporting you are the only things keeping you from melting against him like liquid lust. You're desperate for a moment of solid ground to catch your breath, but Sukuna is adamant on continuously taking it away from you. His calloused hands inching their way up your shirt, brushing softly against your sides, over your rib cage, skimming the underside of your breasts, all in mesmerization at how soft your skin is.
"'Kuna..." You try to capture his attention, which has been taken by his fixation on how sensitive your ears were to the scrape of his teeth.
You're surprised when he answers with a distracted hum, "Yes, my little doe?"
"I -I need a second." You stutter, your heart is thumping wildly in your chest, despite how intoxicated and incapacitated you feel at his mercy. You were starting to forget how to breathe in his close proximity and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your head straight with his natural scent acting like a pheromone.
You feel his wicked grin against your neck before you hear it in his voice, "Poor thing. Am I working you too hard? I rarely see you so out of sorts..." 
Sukuna doesn't even try to disguise his amusement at your complete inebriation with his kisses. His tongue presses against the nape of your throat before he follows a line of sweat up to your ear, leaving behind a cold stripe of his saliva against your burning hot skin. He holds you fast when you violently shiver against him, "It's a good look on you."
“Please…” You beg with whatever breath you can conjure for him but it comes out as more of a desperate little whimper. That was Sukuna’s favorite tone of your voice, after all. 
And desperate you were. Sukuna had been devouring you for so long, sucking and nipping and licking at whatever part of your revealed skin interested him. You could feel your legs forgetting how to operate.
You just needed a moment. 
Without his permission, you push away from his chest and manage to get to your feet in front of him. Your legs buckle, but you're able to catch yourself before you fall face first back into him. Sukuna is looking up at you, as kiss drunk as you felt, blinking slowly with a satisfied smile. 
“Give me just one sec-” You’re about to turn away. And then you see it. 
Sukuna had you so entranced with him, had your mind so far away from your body, that you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you had cleanly soaked through your panties on his lap. And there, on that oh-so-comfortable part of his thigh, that had quickly become one of your happy places, was a dark spot on his jeans from your wetness. 
All you could do was stare down at it, mortified. 
Which only has Sukuna following your gaze in momentary curiosity. 
“I-I’M…” You try to catch his attention again with the sound of your voice before his eyes can settle on the new mark, but Sukuna sees it first.
His grin quickly fades and your heart careens into your throat. You feel embarrassment shoot through you like a shot of adrenaline, coloring your already pink face a bright and rosy red. 
The clear solution to the undoubtedly awkward situation is to run, right?
“I’ll be right back-” But you don’t even move an inch before his hand snaps forward and latches onto the front pocket of your (his) hoodie, stopping you in place. 
Your heartbeat thumps in your red-hot ears and you go against every fiber of your being to meet his eyes.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going with my dinner?" The playful lilt of his tone has completely vanished and reveals a deep, dark starvation in its place.
"I work hard for my meals, you know?” 
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pixiesndberries · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : were back again at daily posting 🙏🏻 to my pookies who supported me, y'all made me giggle and kickin' my feet in my bed last night 👉🏻👈🏻 love lots!
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GOJO SATORU, as your husband !
• Gojo being your husband is no different from being your boyfriend — he still gotta be that same person you dated few years ago, though he became more serious about situations and decisions because you guys are married but his goofy, annoying, clingy side is still there — I mean when he met you and been with you for like two weeks your caller name is already set as 'wifey'.
Gojo who totally acts like a mom when you leave for work, he is like a freaking HOUSEWIFE —
"honey!" he sings as he walks into the living room seeing you brush your hair Infront of the mirror, getting ready for work. "hmm?" you responded and quickly turns your head at him — he's wearing a this is what an awesome husband looks like apron which made you too stunned to speak, "I created a bento for you." he smiles as he hands out a nicely wrapped bento box which was really new to you because it's always you who keep creating bentos for him, usually when he leaves for a mission.
"thank you, honey." you say softly with a warm smile as you accept his bento that he specially created for you, he can't help but to feel like a love sick teenager seeing you smile like that. He officially takes the position of being a housewife 🫡
Gojo who couldn't stop talking about the future he wants with you like nonstop — this man would talk about having three million carbon copy of him with you and would name them after megumi, yuji, nanami and basically all of his friends, students, and dead relatives 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 — I FEEL LIKE HE GOTTA BE THAT TYPE OF PERSON.
Gojo always flexes you everyday and YOU are his hyper fixation — argue with the wall, he gotta be the type of man to say "she's my wife." randomly when he's talking to an old friend he haven't seen for a long time. HE WILL BE THE HUSBAND WHO YOU WILL SEE WEARING "I LOVE MY WIFE" TYPE OF SHIRT WITH THE UGLIEST FONT AND PHOTO TEMPLATE EVER. Once a person mentions your name he ain't gonna shut the fuck up.
I just know this marriage go'n be like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's relationship 🙏🏻 ABSOLUTELY RANDOM TEXTS FROM HIM, UPDATING YOU TOO MUCH.
2:32 pm
gojo : shitting at the mall cuz i don't have anywhere to shit on.
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : i miss you my wife, my beautiful wife.
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : [sent an attachment]
gojo : your very handsome husband ❤️
2:40 pm
you : stop spamming me messages love, im at work 🙏🏻
gojo : why? is it turning you on 😏
you : that's a photo of your feet.
Gojo who became a seriously hands on person when you told him that you're pregnant — when he has missions with yuji, megumi, or maybe nobara and you told him that you're very tired to do anything today he will be like,"okay kids, I got to go I have important things to do." and dashed away before they could say something and mf arrived at yalls house within a second.
Gojo who cried when he carry his baby for the first time, he was sobbing like hell — girl dad? boy dad? BRO HE IS BOTH ‼️ "okay we'll name this one suguru and this one-" he is going to come up with the most ridiculous names, probably the worst one was his dead ancestor.
okay seriously, Gojo would be a full time dad after his children were born — he will always stay at home as much as he can, having twins isn't easy plus he's trying to help you with his full power and make sure you don't feel alone through this.
"gojo.." you grumble as you felt his presence disappearing next to you at bed, you open your eyes and sees he wasn't there which led you to stand up and start looking for him — you walk out of the bedroom and noticed that the twin's bedroom door was open so you check it out.
in your suprise, gojo was in the rocking chair with the twin's in his arms peacefully sleeping and he is snoring like hell. You can't help but smile seeing this moment, it warms you heart. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick photo, this is what you exactly wished for.
Gojo who couldn't stop posting you and his little angels and his fans are absolutely living for it, it's like his day wouldn't complete without posting cute photos of his angels and of course, you as well. Gojo is indeed a Facebook mom —
; gojosatoru
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tagged : @y/n.instagram | fam time 🤍 !
liked by megumi.22 and 8,957 others
itaaa.yuji | I volunteer as a tribute to babysit them 🫡
nobaraaa | CUTIES.
shokoleiri.7 | adorbs
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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renthony · 4 months ago
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In which I'm angry about intersexism from trans people. Again.
"AFABs don't experience [thing experienced by intersex people of all assigned genders]!" is getting really fucking old. People re-inventing the sex and gender binary through their weird fucking fixation on "are you AMAB or AFAB? Are you TMA or TME?" is exhausting.
I'm tired of existing in trans spaces as a trans person, only to realize how actively hostile those spaces are to intersex people. I don't bother to go to the local trans support group, because my experiences there when I first tried to attend were fucking rancid. Trans people of all assigned sexes and all genders act like I don't belong there, and I hit my limit on that shit real fast. It's exhausting, it's alienating, and it's fucking miserable!
Trans people, you have got to fucking stop acting like intersex people don't exist. You have got to fucking stop acting like you own the concept of sex and gender based violence. You have got to fucking stop acting like transfem and transmasc are a set, incorruptible binary. You have got to fucking stop acting like your fucking bullshit in-fighting isn't affecting people who aren't you.
I'm tired of intersex people discussing our own experiences only to get shit all over by perisex trans people who want to put everyone in a binary.
I'm tired of watching intersex people get treated like shit by terfs and transphobes, only for perisex trans people to accuse us of "appropriating trans struggle" when we talk about it.
I'm tired of talking about my experiences as an intersex trans person only to get constantly hit with endless variations on "shut up, theyfab" or "um, you're TME."
I'm tired of talking to my transfem friends and partners, us relating to each other on our similar experience, and then having random other trans people on the internet decide that, actually, I'm a raging transmisogynist who doesn't value trans women and is trying to "appropriate" their struggle. Never mind how many of my own experiences I've been able to articulate thanks to the support of trans women in my life.
Perisex trans people, do better. Y'all fucking suck! Y'all fucking treat intersex people like total shit! Fuck you for using us as rhetorical devices against transphobes and then ignoring our actual needs and struggles!
I go outside and people call me a tranny with a freak ugly beard. I get targeted by all the same bathroom bills and public policy trying to force trans people out of the public. I get people asking me if I have a dick. I get people aggressively calling me "sir" in public. I started getting called a "he-she" when I was a child. When I started developing breasts, a family member told me they weren't "real titties, just extra fat." I have had total strangers tell me I "look like a fat man" when I got upset at being misgendered. I get "helpful advice" from strangers about how to shave "properly," even though I didn't fucking ask, nor do I intend to shave my beard. I've had people tell me I have "tranny feet" and tell me to "try the drag queen shoe store" when I talk about how hard it is to find women's shoes that fit me. I have been the subject of nasty rumors about what's between my legs and why I "try to look like a woman." I'm not a woman, mind you, but I still get treated as a "wrong woman" by society.
But when I talk about all these things? When I seek support? Trans people of all genders call me a TME theyfab who is appropriating transfem struggles.
I still don't understand how I'm the one "appropriating" when it's the outside world calling me a tranny he-she freak.
But whatever. I guess I just have to accept that intersex people are subhuman to perisex people, even the trans ones. 🤷‍♂️
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fairene · 6 months ago
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gravity / ln
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
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where your life with him is just beginning.
yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.
wc: 15.2k woops!
warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.
it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink.   but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers? 
you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town. 
who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable. 
a nerd in short terms. 
you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there. 
the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.
“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest. 
“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled. 
they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point. 
“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night. 
“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”
you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore. 
“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction. 
you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled. 
“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:
“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him. 
but how the whims would be tested over the years. 
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a year later
“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking. 
a season of going to races with him.
you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further. 
you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco. 
your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table. 
“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned. 
you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“
“you wouldn’t drop a pound.” 
you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money. 
“lando—“ you began to shake your head. 
“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”
“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”
it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey. 
you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say. 
with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him. 
you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours. 
on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german. 
you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away. 
“what’re you reading?” 
“do you really want to know?”
he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”
your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?
intimate
“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”
lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”
your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—
“lando?”
“hmm?”
“what will it be like?”
“what?”
“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you. 
lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him. 
“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”
you nodded. 
────────────
he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of  your thigh the entire drive. 
he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?
────────────
the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits. 
“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should. 
you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask. 
“what about orange?”
orange.
lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from. 
the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right. 
and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong. 
────────────
you certainly underestimated the crowds. 
with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated. 
your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today. 
“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”
that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun. 
questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking. 
you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features. 
lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction. 
it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach. 
a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her. 
“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 
“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.
you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”
you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?
“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself. 
“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went. 
he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it. 
his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters. 
────────────
what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still. 
“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking.  you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired. 
“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists. 
he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did. 
the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.
your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?” 
she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds. 
lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly. 
he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”
because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth. 
────────────
you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap. 
when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin. 
without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch. 
you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress. 
whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter. 
“you got this, lan.”
there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention. 
he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom. 
with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely. 
────────────
miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side. 
he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity. 
his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt. 
it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it. 
accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention. 
of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing. 
though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason. 
on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends. 
though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing. 
at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in. 
charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup. 
carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather. 
no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke. 
lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers. 
the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind. 
alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name. 
lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra. 
“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side. 
you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.
though many would disagree with that. 
you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice. 
“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face. 
“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks. 
“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you. 
“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”
you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you. 
before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold. 
it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music. 
she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her. 
you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head. 
alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder. 
the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable. 
your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities. 
the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn. 
a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul. 
lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?
before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”
charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling? 
“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips. 
you gave him a quizzical look. 
“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?
“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt. 
he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”
you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”
his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make. 
you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”
���do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge. 
he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more. 
“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement. 
rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease. 
dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it. 
but your friends noticed. 
rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm. 
“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen. 
“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod. 
“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance. 
“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”
“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls. 
“we’ll figure something out.”
against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…
your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good. 
you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you. 
the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself. 
you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”
he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”
your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.” 
the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.
“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims. 
“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction. 
“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again. 
“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped. 
“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit. 
“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good. 
before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks. 
the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.
“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged. 
“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.
“guess so.”
────────────
saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming. 
“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”
you were taken back. “what do you mean?”
they exchanged a look. 
“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really. 
“so…?” 
“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen. 
“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.” 
the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased. 
“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”
so confident
alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered. 
you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”
rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”
“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”
“how he pays for everything for you.”
“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”
your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them. 
“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you? 
“absolutely.”
“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.
shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say. 
would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head? 
the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed. 
“what do i do?”
the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks. 
────────────
lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side. 
oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.
lily looked at you, confused. 
“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”
lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head. 
“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her. 
“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”
“yeah?”
“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?
a beat of silence.
“without a doubt.”
the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?
he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out. 
lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.
when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?
he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile. 
“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown. 
“are you alright?” 
“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip. 
“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip? 
you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat. 
“what happened? did–”
“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…
“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.
“me. just you and me.”
“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time. 
he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize. 
“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin. 
“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right. 
“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.
“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips. 
“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart. 
“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.” 
lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…
“deal.”
you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke. 
“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something. 
you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god. 
but he did
lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded. 
he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain? 
the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–
a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow. 
you flushed.
never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing. 
“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.
“what’s this for, then? hmm?” 
“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.
his laugh quieted. “did she?”
“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”
you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot. 
“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at. 
“did you?”
“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.
“meet a guy?” 
you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”
he relaxed, noticeably. 
keeping all these guys away from you…
“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly. 
you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people. 
lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down. 
his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though. 
did you even deserve to wear something so elegant? 
“gimme a sec,”  you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.
you opened the door. 
“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you. 
and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up. 
testing the waters
that’s what you were doing
you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”
“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching. 
he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive. 
you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold. 
“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.” 
lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown. 
you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws. 
in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together. 
you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months. 
it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe. 
he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner. 
but he could never control his tongue. 
“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle. 
darling
you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again. 
“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.” 
he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun. 
“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!” 
he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”
and for the first time, you believed him.
────────────
the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black. 
but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent. 
“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober. 
he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.
the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively. 
“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together. 
lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee. 
“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”
your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”
“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”
one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance. 
“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”
“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?
“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”
he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–
but what?
“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance. 
“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand? 
you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement. 
“are you nervous?”
you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch. 
“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”
“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms. 
your breath hitched in your throat. 
“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip. 
“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”
‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”
“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”
lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”
lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips. 
god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.
dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier. 
but you would, in time.
on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile. 
the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand. 
────────────
race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest. 
your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?
especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side. 
he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.
your fans.
there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed. 
but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious. 
“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. 
“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary. 
“it doesn’t sound like–” 
“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile. 
the british driver sighed. 
you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes. 
he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you. 
“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.” 
you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek. 
“you got this, lan.” 
he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.
────────────
you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.
first. lando was in first. 
you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.  
and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life. 
he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears. 
his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug. 
lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name. 
you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment. 
he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you. 
you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.
“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando. 
he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days. 
but you wanted that to go away. 
you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side. 
your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything. 
he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth. 
his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground. 
but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.
the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled. 
“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”
you cupped his cheek. 
“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”
he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile. 
“drink some champagne for me.”
he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done. 
and you sure as hell weren’t. 
────────────
“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing. 
“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”
lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”
your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes. 
“absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick. 
he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”
he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips. 
“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!
“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks. 
“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile. 
“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.
“in every universe, lan.”  your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”
he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.” 
your eyes widened at him. 
“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”
you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue. 
your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.
"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.
you nodded, but that wasn't enough.
"words. need words."
"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?
you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck. 
you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”
“don’t care.”
“you should.” 
“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.
you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”
there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.” 
lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car. 
────────────
the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there. 
when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side. 
you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”
he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub. 
“lando! is this your girlfriend?”
“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other. 
inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence. 
“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip. 
“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty. 
“she really did,” alexandra confirmed. 
you rolled your eyes at the pair of them. 
“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too. 
“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down. 
“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.
“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.” 
“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?” 
it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order. 
without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.
the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention. 
lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.
you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day. 
and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get. 
eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you. 
you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection. 
with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of. 
“what?” he said into your ear. 
you only shifted closer into him if that was possible. 
“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.
you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin. 
“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time. 
you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.
but lando didn’t. 
the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.
he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed. 
“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”
pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over. 
“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground. 
“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye. 
bastard. 
when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could. 
he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin. 
“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry. 
he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by. 
the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.” 
“you’re the death of me, darling.”
you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you. 
you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions. 
lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.
his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly. 
you were ethereal. 
there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey. 
you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties. 
lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly. 
he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this. 
the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core. 
one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more. 
he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met. 
“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience. 
it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing. 
you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”
that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before. 
the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap. 
you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now. 
he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything. 
his gospel was on your pleasures. 
“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.” 
“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch. 
 you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant. 
and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin. 
he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap. 
there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you. 
at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal. 
he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”
yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”
“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap. 
you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees. 
“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth. 
you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.
“my perfect girl…” 
you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you. 
fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you. 
“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath. 
he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?” 
you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement. 
lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.
“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”
you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock. 
“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined. 
“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was. 
he liked to be fast. 
“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”
he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt. 
it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you. 
“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him. 
“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight. 
he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you. 
“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…
“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline. 
his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you. 
your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you. 
he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone. 
“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened. 
“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.
“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin. 
“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”
“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home. 
your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together. 
he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort. 
“did you mean it?” i love you.
“yes.”
lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.” 
a long time
“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime. 
“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.” 
you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided. 
you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now. 
────────────
weeps;;
i am also open for requests <3
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doumadono · 10 months ago
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think if reader had muzan's child and they're breastfeeding their baby & he see the child getting milk, would he be like 'hey. gimme some of that.' i imagine reader would be flustered but down for it aha
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SINFUL SUNDAY
Muzan found himself in an unexpected situation. Clad in his usual elegant attire, Muzan stood beside you, the mother of his child, as you cradled your newborn in your arms. The soft glow of the moonlight falling through a large window bathed the chamber.
Your infant, a delicate mix of human and demon heritage, nestled against your chest, eagerly latching onto your breast for sustenance.
Muzan observed with a calculating gaze, his crimson eyes narrowing as he fixated on the scene before him. "I want some of that too," Muzan's voice, smooth and tinged with arrogance, sliced through the silence. His eyes bore into yours, a twisted curiosity playing in their depths. There was a certain arrogance in his demeanor, as if he believed that even the act of breastfeeding held a power dynamic that he could exploit.
You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by his audacity. "You're a demon king, Muzan-sama. I hardly think breast milk is on the menu for someone of your stature."
Muzan's lips curled into a sly smile, revealing sharp fangs. "Stature has nothing to do with cravings, my dear mortal. A feeble concoction of life's essence, bestowed upon the weak and vulnerable is making me curious." The demon king circled around you, his gaze never leaving the child at your breast.
With a sense of reluctant compliance, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the delicate dance required to navigate the temperamental whims of the father of your child. Gently cradling the infant in your arms, you approached a meticulously crafted wooden crib, adorned with the most opulent silk blanket money could buy. You carefully nestled the child within the confines of its plush sanctuary.
Upon your return to Muzan's presence, you once again nodded, a gesture that carried the weight of unspoken acquiescence. The Demon Lord, perched regally, regarded you with an air of entitlement as he gestured for you to take a seat beside him on an elegantly crafted couch. Complying, you lowered yourself gracefully onto the plush cushions, the atmosphere tinged with a subtle tension.
Without delay, Muzan's hands moved with a possessive confidence, cupping yours breast in a gesture that bespoke both control and desire. Muzan deftly slid the strap of your nightgown from your shoulder, revealing a portion of your chest. His gaze fixated on the rounded swell of your breast, brimming with nourishing milk. The baby's suckling had left the aureola of your breast darkened.
The demon bent down, taking the bud into his mouth. He began to suckle gently, ensuring the sharp edges of his fangs didn't cause any discomfort to you. As the milk flowed into his mouth, he hummed with satisfaction, savoring the runny sweetness that gradually evolved with each sip.
You found yourself in a bewildering situation, unsure of how to react as he drank your milk. Eventually, you tentatively rested a hand on his shoulder, seeking a semblance of stability.
He continued to suckle, delicately pressing against the breast with his chilly hand. His long, pointed nails lightly brushed against the tender flesh, making you yelp a little.
"Shhh," he whispered, taking the bud out of his mouth to look directly at you. "We don't want the baby to wake up."
Muzan swiftly removed your remaining sleeve of the nightgown, revealing your chest completely to his hungry, crimson eyes. He then shifted his focus to the other breast, wrapping his lips around the hardened nipple. He took his time, gently sucking while flicking his tongue against the hardened bud. The milk spilled into his mouth again, prompting a satisfied hum. The entire experience, he realized, had an unintended consequence — his pants felt uncomfortably tight in the crotch.
The experience had a profound effect on you as well. You moaned quietly in relief as he eased the tension in your breasts by gently drinking the accumulated milk. "Oh, my lord," you whispered, gently caressing his shoulder.
Muzan took your hand and directed it toward his groin, where a noticeable bulge had formed.
Without a second thought, you sensed the texture of his hardened penis through the fabric of his pants and began to delicately massage it whilst his tongue massaged the erected nipple.
As things intensified, Muzan pulled away, fixing a stern gaze on your flushed face. "Take off your clothes," he commanded, his tone firm and demanding. "I want to take you, right here and now. And who knows, perhaps you'll birth me another heir soon."
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valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 2 months ago
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Shall we dance? - Viktor x reader
Hi there! With the second season of Arcane on the horizon, I’m excited to start writing for some of its characters. I hope you enjoy this one! ❤️
Words: ~1500 TW: none
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"Can you dance?"
Your voice echoed in the lab, making Viktor look up at you with a confused look. He would lie if he said he didn't expect you to say something. Not when you stared at him in the past thirty minutes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed just like they do when something was on your mind.
"Pardon?" he said, his eyes scanning your face. He did hear your question very clearly, but he hoped that maybe you would let it go, feeling too exhausted to deal with you right now.
He never understood why Jayce wanted an assistant. He never asked you to do anything anyway. You just stood there with them, sometimes doing some of his paperwork. But today was one of those days he found himself alone with you, as Jayce was at yet another meeting.
"Can you dance?" you repeated, this time slower, making sure every word got to him.
His expression was unamused, and he looked about as tired as ever: dark circles under his eyes, messy hair from him likely running his hand through it in frustration, and the way he was slumped in his chair like he was about ready to pass out at any moment.
“I don’t dance.” He said dully.
"I didn't ask that. I asked if you could do it," you said, gesturing at his leg.
“No, I can’t.” He said in a tone that clearly told you to drop the subject. You just stood there silent for a moment, your eyes still fixed on his leg. He sighed, relieved that maybe now he could continue his work in silence.
"Have you tried?"
Dammit.
“What part of ‘no I can’t’ are you not understanding?” he snapped, “Why are you fixating on my leg?
"Have. You. Tried?" you ask again, your tone more persistent.
“Of course, I’ve tried.” He said with an obvious annoyance in his voice. He didn’t enjoy talking about this subject. “How exactly do you expect me to dance if I can barely walk in the first place?” he huffed, waving a dismissive hand at his own leg.
You lean back, your eyes scanning him once again. He knew that face - the sign that those little wires in your head are connecting, another light bulb glowing brightly.
"Have you ever danced with anyone?" He placed the pen on the table, a bit harsher than he would've wanted. His eyes locked with yours, not sure what answer you would like to hear from him. "I mean... it's easier to dance with someone than alone."
“No, I haven’t danced with anyone. It’s rather difficult to find someone who wants to dance with someone who can barely stand up without a cane."
"I would."
He was stunned for a moment, his eyes widening at your answer. “You-... Why?” What possible reason would compel you to want to dance with him of all people? You didn’t even like him or at least you acted like this.
"Because I think you might enjoy it," you said, getting up and walking to the phonograph Jayce brought in the lab at some point. His eyes followed you around, a confused look on his face as you looked at some vinyls, trying to pick one.
He turned back to his work as if that would make you disappear... forever, preferably. Your steps approaching him made his heart skip a beat, his brain fogging as your warm hand briefly touched his, snatching the pen he was holding.
"Up," you commanded him, met with a groan of annoyance.
"I'm not getting up," he said as you tugged on his hand slightly. "I have work to do."
"You worked enough."
He hated how fast you answered him like you already knew every word he was going to say.
He sighed as he raised himself from the chair, leaning against the desk as he looked down at you. "Are you happy?"
"Very much so." you smiled, his face slightly heating up at the sight. You placed his other hand on your waist, as you grabbed his shoulder tightly. "Lean onto me," you said and pulled him closer, feeling a bit taken aback by the fact that he was heavier than he looked. "I got you."
He let out a scoff but begrudgingly followed your instructions. “This is stupid…” he mumbled as he leaned closer.
"Well, it is with this attitude of yours! Try to be more positive about it!" you encouraged. "Now, we'll start with the right one, alright?"
He gave you an annoyed look as you continued being overly chipper. He hated how much you were enjoying this. “Right… and how exactly do you expect me to move my right leg without my cane?” he grumbled, waving towards his cane sitting on the desk. You looked at him for a moment, the same look from earlier appearing on your face, as you realised you've mistaken his healthy leg.
"Just... Just lean on me, alright? Pretend I'm your cane."
He stood there for a moment, hesitant. It wasn't that he didn't trust you could hold him as you proved yourself to be more than capable of supporting his weight. He felt vulnerable. He didn't really like depending on someone else, so now, having to trust you completely was a bit overwhelming. You looked up at him, a bit worried at his sudden stiffness. "Hey... If you want to stop..."
“No…” he said, a bit too quickly than he intended. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid your gaze. He took in a sharp breath through his nose, his hand on your waist tightening slightly. He could feel his heart thump in his chest as he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet your eyes. “Let’s keep going…” he finally mumbled after a moment.
You smiled at his words. "Just follow my lead."
With slow steps, he mirrored you, as the music echoed in the lab. Your hands were firm against him, making sure you were not letting him fall, your eyes scanning his body for every sign that he might want to stop. But he didn't.
He didn't want to stop. The more he moved, the more the tension in his shoulders began to ease up.
He hated to admit it, but you were right. It was easier to move with a partner. And having you hold onto him, making sure he could follow your steps… it was something akin to freedom. He didn’t have to worry about keeping himself from collapsing because you wouldn’t let him fall.
That feeling scared him as much as fascinated him.
"See?" you said. "I knew you could dance." you encouraged him, a wide smile on your face.
You looked up to notice a small smile on his lips, a hint of pride in his eyes as he heard your praise.
“Don’t get a big head about it.” he mumbled, “This is still stupid...”
You chuckled as you swayed around the desk. "But you like it," you said, your voice a bit lower.
Oh, how much he wanted to argue with you. "No, I don’t. It’s stupid. It’s pointless." But the way his heartbeat in his chest made it difficult to focus. And he hated how he didn’t want you to let go anytime soon.
"You are such a pain in the ass sometimes, you knew that?" you chuckled, as you moved your eyes back to the ground, making sure you don't step on his legs.
“I could say the same thing about you.” He let out a quiet wince of pain as his leg twitched. It seemed his body was reminding him that he was, in fact, not made to dance, as much as he hated to admit it. “Okay, yes, I’ve had enough.” he said through gritted teeth, “My leg is protesting…”
You slowly helped him sit back in his chair, your hand lingering for just a few moments on his shoulder again. "Hurts too much?" you asked, a hint of worry on your face.
"Ah, it's nothing really..." he said, already used to the pain he was supposed to endure more often than he liked to admit. A feeling of guilt passed through you, thinking that maybe you shouldn't have insisted.
"I'm sorry..." you said, as you leaned against the desk. "I just wanted to help you relax a bit, that's all..."
He looked up at you, his hand slightly squeezing your arm in reassurance. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. That was…” He hesitated for a moment on his next words. “…That was nice…” he finally whispered.
A smile appeared on your face at his words. "Next time we'll paint. Maybe this activity will be less... dangerous."
“Paint? Really?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly. “That’s the next one on your list of things to do to get me to relax?”
You wanted to talk, but as you looked at the clock on your wrist, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you were late for a meeting. Quickly you made your way to the door. "Well... I have some other things in plan..." you smirked as you leaned against the door. "But we'll take it slow," you left him alone in the lab, a faint blush on his cheeks.
He sat there completely dumbfounded, staring at the door for who knows how long, intrigued by your words.
Suddenly, the idea of Jayce having an assistant didn't sound so bad anymore...
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