#oh hey look a nuanced take

[jackie-of-all-spades]

Oh my god you sound like a pompous ass with a fixation on Jews. Piss off.

Alright a nice and timely bit of hate, from I'm guessing either Spacelazarwolf or Slyandthefamilybook, but who knows and it doesn't really matter.

Here is a breakdown of everything that just happened. I came across a post denouncing antisemitism by someone I follow. A good message save for the fact that it was essentially worded

"If your not Jewish agree that antisemitism is bad as if this conversation took place in a bubble, or you suck"

I then agreed that yes, antisemitism is bad, but refused to pretend any speech occurs in a bubble free of the context of the world around us and the events that transpire in it, soooooo, while yes antisemitism is bad maybe we should also have a discussion about how a particular state in the middle east is attempting to turn the multiple Jewish denominations, and multiple Jewish ethnic identies as well as that state into a Monolith so that criticizing any constituent part of that list constitutes criticizing the entirety.

(I'll admit my initial response was a little more wise ass in tone than it probably needed to be, I don't responde well to posts telling me to "say what I want you to only then shut up")

The response I then received for wanting to also talk about the Israeli state trying to turn the diaspora into something like the monolith that neo-nazis and antisemites paint them as when they say "the jews", and how that is probably a bad thing likely to result in more of the antisemitism that they were asking people to condem as that far right government carries out terrible actions; was, "shut up forever" before i was blocked or it was deleted. Not exactly sure which since I can't look at spacelazarwolfs blog who I'm guessing blocked me, though I think that response was from sly. Regardless the response was essentially

No, I don't want to, shut the fuck up and never talk to me again

So, not exactly the response I'd expect from someone who was genuinely just trying to promote awareness of the growing problem of antisemitism.

As for your charge there anon about me having a fixation on jews. I don't, i do have a fixation on history though the thing I care about is the dual rises in both Identitarianism, and the violence that historically follows a push of that mindset. Whether that's white guys attacking and assaulting people with Hispanic names or dark skin in my country, the use of Russian Nationalism and pride for defeating the nazi's being used by putin to try and claim land and eradicate an ethnic minority, or ethno-religious nationalism from the Israeli state widening the definition of antisemitism to use it as cover to do the very same thing to its neighboring ethnic groups that the states founders wanted a state to be protected from ever experiencing again.

Conversations don't happen in a bubble... those that try to force a conversation to occur in a bubble have an agenda, and I've found, It's usually one that historically you should be wary of because they are trying to hide something.

And with that. May those pushing antisemitism get punched in the face as all Nazi's and antisemites should, and may Palestine be free and it's people find justice.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[fairene]

beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

prompt ⋯ ohhh hey ! wanted to stop by to say i love ur fic and wanted to request insatiable lando with max f’s sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no one’s supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) — @444mercss

a/n ⋯ this was much longer than i intended, but the words just kept flowing out of me. thank you to all those who beta read my post and helped with grammar!!! ( @jamminvroomvroom , @theonottsbxtch ) you all helped so much. and thank you to mercs for requesting this. i didn't know i'd enjoy it as much as i did, but it definitely was for 20k words. i'll probably take a week ( or maybe not ) off from writing just to give myself a cool down period, but still here to answer any asks. feel free to pop in. hope you all enjoy this, and remember, readers looks are up for interpretation, along with the outfits. colors of coloring are mention only briefly!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, oral(m+f)!receiving, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, feral lando. best friends little sister, brothers best friend dynamic, mutual pining, 'games', horny thoughts. much, much more. but even, possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.

wc ⋯ 20.1k (WHEWWW WEEE... edited by @jamminvroomvroom, @theonottsbxtch)

the summertime was one of your favorites. you and all of the rest of your girlfriend’s would spend each and every day together without question. but as time went on, they got their own lives. partners, engagements, jobs. not to say that you weren’t an accomplished young lady, but it was starting to show that you were hung up on a life that was starting to fade.

your brother on the other hand, was keen on keeping you in this life. in tip top shape on your toes, he’d always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter. 

but he had invited you this summer on vacation with his friends. you knew them all relatively well, texted here and there, but you never imagined to be trailing along on a villa getaway sponsored by the quadrant house, mainly the famous lando norris himself. 

you would be shy to admit it, but you had a bit of a soft spot for lando. him and his cheeky smile. the moles that donned his face. his starlit eyes that radiated an emerald hue beneath the sunlight. it was intangible the way that you could pick apart the details about his nuanced beauty, but it was a secret for you to keep.  a secret that no one, especially your brother, could ever find out about.

but that’s all that it was, wasn’t it?

a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldn’t ever gain the courage to talk to him, make a move, despite how often him and max talk about going on dates with girls. talking about his love life, or the rather drab there of. he fucked around a lot, max knew that, and would consistently warn you to never get wrapped up in the same lifestyle as the british driver. you’d hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a ‘don’t worry about me,’ though you wish you gave him a reason to.

why did you feel undeserving of lando– because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzoned–? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldn’t it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so you’d bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own. 

the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that you’d been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why he’d probably sniped you an invite. but it wasn’t like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of max’s friends, that he kept them at arm’s length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing. 

“wow,” you breathed, stepping out of the uber from the airport. the house before you was a stunning makeup of eccentric architecture that dated decades before your own birth. it was a grand building with tall, marble columns. thoroughly decorated landscaping, and even had running fountains in the front. you were so lost in your awe that you didn’t see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open. 

“max,” you turned your head towards your brother who was grabbing your bags from the trunk. you shifted to the source of the voice, finding the british driver standing barefoot with a beach flannel and short-inseam khaki shorts low around his waist. you gulped before looking anywhere else but him. 

“lando!” max approached him, arm outstretched for a shake. lando met him half way down the marbled steps, taking his sunglasses off from the top of his head. 

“how was the flight, mate? good?” max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didn’t ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence. 

“not too bad, ‘specially if this is what you’ve got.” lando chuckled at your brother’s words, and then his eyes finally landed on you. you and your comfortable outfit from the plane ride over. you and your pulled back hair, respectfully messy, and the jewelry that adorned your fingers. his eyes caught over the bling, and how you anxiously picked away at the skin. 

“never thought she’d grace our presence,” lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth. 

max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. “whatever, mate, she’s here now, in’she?” what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things. 

“she certainly is.” lando approached you with his tongue tucked behind his bottom lip, hasty in his steps. you stood up straighter with a light smile on your face, eyes twinkling away from his own. you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “c’mon, love, i’ll take your bags.” 

“are you sure? i can take–”

the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a moment— the warm flesh, humming low against his own. you felt like he spoke to you through your blood, but you let it go. lando norris wasn’t giving you special attention, that’s for sure. 

you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brother’s best friend, older than you, and certainly didn’t have time for a girl who wasn’t a celebrity. 

right?

he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagine– floor to ceiling windows, candlelit ceiling lights, flora decorating each wall that you turned to. it smelled delectable, too, wafting germanium and coconut oil. the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun. 

“you like it, then?” came lando’s voice. your head dropped, glancing at him from where he stood, waiting for you to join him on the steps. had he been watching your face? 

“you’re joking.” you assured, hands clasped together. “it’s beautiful.” 

lando smiled then, too, letting his lower lip snatch between his top teeth. he tried hard to conceal his happiness, but you felt like you could feel it amongst the air. you felt warm all of a sudden and cleared your throat, urging him forward up the spiraling staircase. 

you walked in silence with him down the long corridors. you would pause before each door briefly, wondering if he was going to open it, but he didn’t. it wasn’t until you were reaching the ends of the hallway when he stopped, twisting the knob of the white wooden door. he stood aside, letting you in first. 

the room you’d be staying in for the next few weeks was more than you could ever dream of. with its spacious interior, personal bathroom, and private balcony, you felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to experience this. to live in this moment. to be here. in italy, of all places. 

lando interrupted your dreaming haze by sliding the bags in. you turned to face him in your unruly, exhausted glory, and he stared at you. a hand of his found the back of his neck. 

“so…dinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, um…” he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. “oh and, if you need anything, my room’s just next door.” 

he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door. 

“wait,” you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. “thank you.” 

the words seemed to hit him harder than you thought that it would. he blushed a light red, dimming his tanned face, and cleared his throat before nodding. “of course.” he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. “‘m glad you’re here.” 

and then he was gone. 

you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly? 

you didn’t let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldn’t help but let it. the curly-haired brunette stayed in your mind whilst you settled in and unpacked. all ounce of his shy, gaunt nature. 

by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. you’d taken a small nap to rejuvenate your energy, and just in the nick of time for dinner. you got ready amply, sliding a comfortable dress over the surface of your body. the straps were thin and fell loose upon your collarbones. you’d pair an elegant pair of low rise heels on your feet, pointy-toed, that matched the color of your dress.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the dim yellow lighting illuminating the corners of your face that you so frequently forgot to appreciate. it was in the hours of the night that you could appreciate yourself, unopposed to the gawking looks of strangers. 

there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open. 

lando stood there on the other side. him and his dark shirt and khaki pants. he wore a pair of leather black loafers that matched his shirt. he smelled good, too, a masculine tint of sauvage. 

no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each other’s features. you resisted the urge to trace the moles on his face with a finger, whilst he fought himself to not reach out and run his hands along the fabric of your dress. 

his eyes softened when you met his, cheeks filled with a simple kind of joy. the two of you were done ogling at one another, still foreign in each other’s presence. 

“ready?” he asked. you nodded, grabbing a matching handbag from the countertop and slung it over your arm. you shut the door to your room behind you and walked a few paces behind lando. you weren’t close with him like that to walk side by side.

or so you thought.

he dragged his feet to slow his pace, coming parallel to your side. he held his breath for a moment, turning to look at the exposed skin from your dress. you caught his wandering eyes and looked up at him, wandering beneath his emerald depths. 

“what?” you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat. 

“nothing.” he turned his head to face back forward. “just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.” 

that was an understatement. you haven’t seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you weren’t upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you. 

but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you could’ve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions you’ve had with lando over the years. 

when you turned 18, he brought you to an exclusive club and showered you with gifts, alcohol, and even more. it was a night you wouldn’t forget, feeling lucky enough to manage a dance with him on the dance floor. his hands hovered above your body, the warmth seeping through your skin, rattling your bones. he even got so close to your face that you could feel his breath. smell the alcohol that reeked from him. 

you thought you were going to kiss. 

and so did he. 

but your brother separated the two of you, calling lando over for a group shot. you were left there, stranded on the dance floor, with the phantom touch of a man that you knew you could never have. it pained you to admit such a truth to yourself, but it didn’t loiter. you had a life to get back to, not indulge some silly, fanatical dream that kept you up late at night as a teenager. lando norris was the fantasy, never to become a reality. 

though, every time in presence, you’d manage to falter. set those delusions free the second he’d act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. max’s little sister. that’s all you were, though, weren’t you? 

“you’ve been well, haven’t you?” you asked him with a hum, holding your bag with both hands in front of you. the leather piece bucked against your abdomen. lando watched, peering to see if he could hold it for you. 

“‘course. living my dream, aren’t i?” you’d made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase. 

“it’s not a dream.” you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. “it’s reality now, i’d reckon.” 

he smiled. 

the two of you made it down the steps. you lingered in the grand foyer, beneath the candlelit chandelier. it was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to set. it had created a pink and blue hue over the water’s edge. 

but you weren’t looking at the water’s edge. 

you were looking at lando. your brother’s best friend. he had his hands in his pockets, facing the open living room, rocking back and forth on his heels. you cut your way to his line of sight staring upward at him. he looked down at you, wondering what you were searching for.

you had considered not doing what you were about to do. you really did!

but your hand was already outstretched, the tips of your fingers grazing over the grown facial hair on his chin. he didn’t jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch. 

“i like it,” you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you. 

“yeah?” lando asked, suddenly much closer to you. 

“makes you look older and manly.” you rolled your eyes. 

“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 

your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. “i’ve seen you weep at the sight of fish.” 

lando’s face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. “doesn’t make me any less of a man.” he crossed his arms. 

“really?” 

“just enthusiastic. don’t see a problem with having a bit of character.” you didn’t argue with him further when you saw your brother and other group friends join one another in the living room. they made their way closer to the two of you.

you took a step back from lando. he couldn’t take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. it’s nothing. his expressions mean nothing. they’re not for you. 

“c’mon, i’m starvin’.” max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner. 

you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. “you’ll ride with me, yeah?” you blushed. how could you not? max turned his head over his shoulder, his voice saying nothing, but his eyes telling all. he knows how you felt about lando when you were younger. 

he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely you’ve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadn’t harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldn’t. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late. 

it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him. 

lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldn’t help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadn’t felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with lando’s presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years you’d walked this earth. 

your excitement had done things to him as well. his eyes were glued to how you reacted, enthralled by your visceral enthusiasm to being in such a tangible sports car. your fingertips grazed across the leather interior of the door handle. 

“gonna jump out on me?” 

you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core. 

“not if you don’t give me a reason to.”

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 

you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villa’s extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him. 

“you look fit.” came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. “beautiful, but your brother’d have me by the balls if he heard me say that.” 

your breaths were heavy in your chest. “then don’t let him.” 

lando’s head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you weren’t even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasn’t misinterpreting them. god forbid he didn’t understand. you didn’t brush him off like you did as a child, didn’t stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would. 

“between us, then?” 

you nodded, tongue coming to wet your bottom lip. you made a motion of a lock and key against them, throwing the key out the window. he watched, but was drawn back to the road. that was one of the fastest car rides you’ve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence. 

the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been awed by the sites you’ve seen, but you couldn’t help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends. 

lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute. 

you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you. 

“he say anything to you?” 

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?” 

max didn’t elaborate and simply settled for a huff from his nose. lando had been handing off his car to the valet man when he met up with the two of you. your other friends were in tow, eight of you in total, and made it inside the restaurant with ease.

you didn’t even think about what the seating arrangement would be. not until lando pulled out a chair for you, beside him, and you had no other choice but to settle in. not like you were complaining though. 

but max was going to. you could see the look on his face when he sat opposite to you, flashing you a pair of warning eyes. but you didn’t know what warranted them– you didn’t even say anything to lando, more or less. 

you furrowed your brows at him, feeling far too old for these insolent glances, and picked up the menu. lando sat next to you, mirroring your actions. you placed the napkin on your lap, a polite etiquette you’ve always precluded dinners with. 

“ah– look,” you leaned into lando’s space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. “for you.” 

your finger pointed to the blackened cod that they had on the menu. lando met you half way, looming over your shoulder at what you were pointing at. as soon as he read it, he scoffed. “fuck off.” you couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.

“don’t do that,” lando’s voice came firm, but soft against your ears. he was talking just loud enough for the two of you to be able to hear. you glanced quickly at max, who was lost in conversation with his buddies. 

“what?” 

“hide your laugh.” you guessed you didn’t realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. “you used to do it when you were a teenager, too.” he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. “never understood why. especially since it’s so pretty.”

you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. “stop it.” but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone. 

“don’t let him, ‘s what you said, right?” 

you swallowed. nodded your head. 

his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. “he won’t hear a thing then, will he?” lando’s nose brushed against your scalp, and you thought for a moment, dreamed, that he would plant a kiss upon your head. but his lips simply hovered, breaths warming your strands of hair. 

but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. “but he can see, you imbecile.” 

that had lando laughing. your face broke with a smile, unable to resist his intoxicating gestures. he simply shrugged, letting you win this one, and his arm came to sling over the back of your chair. his fingertips grazed the strands of your dress, dipping down to your bare shoulders. your posture straightened against the chair, legs crossing over one another beneath the table. he watched you shift, his teeth catching his bottom lip to retain his smile. 

the waiter came to take your orders. you ordered your preferred choice and drink, lando following suit. when the table received their drinks, you lifted your glasses for a collective ‘cheers’. 

when the main course was finished, you were handed the dessert menus. short a couple, you had to share with the man next to you. you nudged lando’s shoulder with your own and like a dog to a whistle, he was over your shoulder once more, his stubble barely pinching your skin. the thought burst through your head: what would it feel like on your neck? on your thighs, your cunt? you blushed again for what felt like an infinitesimal number, but turned your attention back to the menu. 

you pointed at the option that you thought was best. lando hummed, his eyes tracing over the features of your face. you glanced at him. “what?” you asked. 

he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice. 

it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all. 

when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow. 

“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard. 

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 

there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?” 

your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?” 

lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair. 

“guess so.”

the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him. 

you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 

lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he? 

you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free. 

you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things. 

he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he. 

it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 

“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for. 

he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut. 

it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer. 

you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 

he did. 

there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 

lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 

“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”

that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 

you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 

the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 

“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 

“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 

you were shameless when you nodded your head. 

“so embarrassing, i know–” 

“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 

“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 

“what do you feel for me now?” 

you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 

there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 

you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 

he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 

lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“some dreams just remain dreams.” 

he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 

“do you want to dream forever?” 

no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 

you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 

his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 

“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 

he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 

you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat. 

his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years. 

he lied when he said he didn’t notice you. 

he lied. 

lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando. 

‘course he fucking noticed. 

he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore–  black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight. 

your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.

“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress. 

your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own. 

“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress. 

“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.” 

lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?” 

your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs. 

“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…” 

your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock. 

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 

lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice. 

“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.” 

“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream. 

the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin. 

you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.” 

you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck. 

the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body. 

your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body. 

the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.

“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice. 

“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come. 

“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you. 

but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair. 

with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?” 

you shook your head. “no– no!” 

you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping. 

“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself. 

his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat. 

lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again. 

you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips. 

“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you. 

“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.” 

you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.

the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again. 

“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.” 

it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like. 

your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret. 

you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand. 

lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling. 

and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes. 

his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you. 

within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone. 

lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep. 

you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn’t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister. 

lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself. 

he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace. 

you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart. 

he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is. 

his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed. 

“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly. 

your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong? 

“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words.��

he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.

“you don’t want me?” 

his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart. 

he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.” 

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped. 

he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs. 

your name was sweet on his tongue. 

“what would your brother say–?” 

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 

lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck. 

“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin. 

“how much?” 

lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in. 

“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress. 

“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions. 

“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.” 

you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace. 

“the one with the bows?” 

“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him. 

there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility. 

you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently. 

you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.” 

that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move. 

“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense. 

he swallowed. shook his head.

“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck. 

he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same. 

lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone. 

yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life. 

that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning. 

the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist. 

the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.

‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’ 

fuck that. 

you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you. 

“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim. 

“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately. 

“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?” 

you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.” 

you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.

“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?” 

lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction. 

“slept great.” 

you scoffed. 

max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks. 

“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?” 

max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage. 

you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning. 

the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that. 

when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something. 

“you–”

“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment? 

max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense. 

“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?” 

lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate. 

he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?” 

you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste. 

max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?” 

you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.” 

max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek. 

“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving. 

“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant. 

“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.” 

he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left. 

“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat. 

but you stood your ground. “positive.” 

lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold. 

he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane. 

so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool. 

most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack. 

in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime. 

the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one. 

it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head. 

it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over. 

lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless. 

with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw. 

“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water. 

you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.

lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands. 

he simply stared at you. and you stared at him. 

then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin. 

the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste. 

“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.” 

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out. 

with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool. 

you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max. 

when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention. 

“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap. 

“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning. 

“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling. 

“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at. 

“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted. 

“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest. 

lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show. 

“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.” 

“asshole.” max mirrored you. 

“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

though you did. 

you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through. 

“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word. 

max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.

“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could. 

lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you. 

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?” 

lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall. 

you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”

lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?” 

you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him. 

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions. 

“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.” 

but you dared to disagree. 

“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?” 

he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure. 

“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge. 

“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 

“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist. 

“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone. 

“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength. 

“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone. 

“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock. 

“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go. 

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 

you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex. 

you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair. 

a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power. 

a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger. 

but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner. 

you had come up with the idea for dinner. 

fish. as everyone enjoyed. 

you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself. 

you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious. 

and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.

“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.

“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.” 

they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer. 

you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind. 

it was an afterthought  for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot. 

you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines. 

lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.

“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for. 

“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?” 

you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.” 

“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker. 

you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice. 

he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove. 

it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days. 

but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged. 

it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips. 

you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.

though it was much easier said than done. 

his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table. 

you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck. 

attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap. 

your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit. 

you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone. 

your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table. 

with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here. 

you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind. 

but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit. 

it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings. 

you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word. 

“dessert, anyone?” 

there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen. 

it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go. 

but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…

lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.

you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you. 

he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you? 

you were. 

when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends. 

they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours. 

lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.

but your skillfulness was not. 

the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself. 

“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward. 

“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger. 

he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered. 

you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you. 

little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall. 

until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted. 

and maybe you did. 

you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races. 

was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand? 

the answer was undoubtedly yes. 

you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it? 

the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick. 

conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time? 

“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all. 

he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean. 

lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought. 

when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table. 

your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most. 

tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in. 

his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–

ah

ah

when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.

he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own. 

“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.” 

you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises. 

then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine. 

“being a fucking tease…” 

“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity. 

lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”

you were.

your face flushed. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction. 

“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”

you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust. 

with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?” 

“no.” 

“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.

but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”

your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were. 

his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth. 

but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?

“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly. 

a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you. 

“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?” 

you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.

his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you. 

he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat. 

you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more. 

“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan. 

“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.” 

it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure. 

“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.

before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes. 

he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle. 

you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat. 

“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam. 

“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him. 

he snickered. “guess so.” 

you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue. 

“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”

“let me–” 

you shushed him. 

“on the house.” 

you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes. 

you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad. 

in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?

you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home. 

glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee. 

into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms. 

lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call. 

at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds. 

a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds. 

you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night. 

it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air. 

lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him. 

a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is. 

lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching. 

and spellcasted he was. 

with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper. 

he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice. 

you were. 

you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed. 

lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper. 

“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.

lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile. 

you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust. 

the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic. 

when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you. 

good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right. 

you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother. 

some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf. 

“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him. 

“he’s a good guy.”  

lando was sitting up now. listening. 

“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.” 

your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter. 

“and…what did you say?” 

max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them. 

“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.” 

it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you. 

your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it. 

“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity. 

you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping. 

chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers. 

“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat. 

“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.” 

you edged further into the water until your knees were covered. 

“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you? 

“really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?” 

you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons. 

you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical. 

“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side. 

“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?” 

you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age. 

and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs. 

he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes. 

arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired. 

“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.

“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.

“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.” 

and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile. 

shit. 

shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night. 

when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top. 

“just you and me, yeah?”

you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time. 

“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?” 

he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris. 

your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had. 

lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good. 

he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek. 

“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 

you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of. 

“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful. 

“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa. 

“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”

lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone. 

“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?” 

whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could. 

he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.” 

and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you. 

you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat. 

he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.

his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you. 

he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—” 

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.” 

you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too. 

his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.

“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan. 

“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum. 

“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?” 

you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness. 

“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.” 

you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him. 

with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away. 

your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.

“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed. 

“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—” 

“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.” 

“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way? 

finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt. 

your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom. 

with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry. 

his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect. 

“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for. 

lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling. 

he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear. 

“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.” 

he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder. 

he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend. 

you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh. 

“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail. 

lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed. 

“am i?” 

one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean. 

“think you like it, love.” 

you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter. 

his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered. 

“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?” 

“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder. 

it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit. 

he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine. 

lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with. 

“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.” 

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 

he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.

both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table. 

his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it. 

feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him. 

“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?” 

your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words. 

“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through. 

he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to. 

the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other. 

his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end. 

“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

lando hummed. 

“about us.” 

you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 

you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for. 

he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship. 

it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for. 

and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms. 

lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.

sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat. 

but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.

“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side. 

“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.

“motherfucker.”

tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[indigo6f00ff]

toontown drama on the timeline. What

[hoshifighting]

helloooe can u write svt reaction when yn uses the safeword plsss? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

seventeen reaction when you use the safeword

seungcheol is the type who would realize way before you said anything. when his hips fucked you a little too hard, he noticed a subtle shift in your demeanor. a fleeting expression of discomfort flickered across your face, and his empathetic instincts immediately kicked in. without hesitation, he paused, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of distress, In that vulnerable moment, you looked back at him, your eyes silently pleading. when the safeword left your lips, he immediately stopped, to place you in his arms, "sorry baby, are you okay?... are you sure?"

jeonghan when you uttered the safeword, without hesitation, he withdrew his fingers from you, ceasing his movements, he stepped back, creating a safe distance from you to gather your thoughts. "take all the time you need," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody. "we can slow down or stop if you want."

joshua withdrew with a gentle grace, creating a safe space for you to express your needs. the connection between you two extended beyond the physical. looking into your eyes, he offered a reassuring smile, he radiates empathy. "it's okay," he whispered, "we can take a step back. let me know what you need."

junhui eyes widen as you felt a subtle unease creeping in, and he noticed fast, his touch becoming more tender, until you managed to whisper the safeword, he'd caress your cheeks, "are you okay?" Jun inquired gently, his voice a soothing balm. "we can stop if you need to. your comfort is important."

hoshi's eyes would quickly turn from desire to worry, panicking "oh my god, oh my god baby, are you okay? w-what happened?" when you assured him, grateful for his spontaneity and understanding, you took a moment to collect your thoughts. probably finding him crying when you opened your eyes. hearing him sniffling sorry's in the crook of your neck.

wonwoo saw the discomfort in your eyes before you mutter the safe word, then he keeps you close, not going anywhere, so you know and feel that he's there with you. his face looking calm, but his eyes showing that he was really worried. "is everything okay? I'll wait until you feel better"

woozi detected the shift immediately, his eyes widened, a rare display of genuine concern. in less than seconds, his was off you, his intense gaze scanning your form. "hey y/n, hey, hey, talk to me" and without waiting for a response, he gently shook your face, searching for reassurance in the nuances of your expression. with a nod, you affirmed your condition, and a subtle relief flickered in his eyes.

minghao however, as his calm exterior processed the situation, a sense of desperation flickered in his eyes. your murmured safeword signaled a need for a pause, and he responded with immediate concern. the tranquil atmosphere shifted to one of quiet urgency as he blew air gently in your face, a plea for you to breathe. "hey, breathe," he murmured with a mixture of calm reassurance and subtle desperation. "take your time. I'm here."

mingyu and the weight of his embrace momentarily stifling. mingyu lost in the moment, forgot the extent of his own size and strength. sensing your need for a pause, you mustered the safeword, and in an instant, his puppy-like eyes grew wide with concern. physically distancing himself from you, feared he might break you. his large frame seemed to shrink as he held back, his expressive eyes filled with tears. "i'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice carrying the weight of genuine concern. "are you okay? did i hurt you?"

seokmin, definition of panic. when the word slipped your lips, you opened your eyes to find seokmin now on the other side of the bedroom almost crying. realizing the impact of your words, you reached out with an outstretched hand, silently inviting him back into the bed. he, snapping out of his momentary panic, rushed to your side. his animated energy was momentarily replaced with a gentle presence as he sat beside you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "hey, are you okay?" he asked, he voice carrying a mix of worry and regret. "i didn't mean to... i just got carried away."

seungkwan suddenly became caught in a loop of apologies, "i'm sorry baby, i'm sorry," he repeated, the urgency in his voice mirroring his internal panic. his steady demeanor gave way to a momentary loss of composure. Seungkwan didn't stop to take a breath, the weight of your well-being now his singular focus. you, sensing his growing panic, gently reached out to touch his arm, a small anchor in the storm of apologies. "it's okay," you reassured, your voice calm amidst his frantic apologies. "i just needed a pause."

vernon as you uttered the safeword, a subtle shift occurred, and though he tried to maintain an outward appearance of calm, the trembling of his hands betrayed an underlying concern. "i... i didn't expect... i'm sorry," he stammered "i want to help. what can i do?" you appreciated his genuine concern, and with a reassuring smile, you gently took his trembling hand. "it's okay. just being here is enough," you assured him.

chan and you always talked a lot about sex, before even having it, agreeing to put a safeword. when the safeword escaped your lips in a moment of oversensitivity, he gently cradled you in his arms, repositioning you on his lap like a precious treasure. his touch was tender, his actions expressing a desire to cocoon you in a comforting embrace. leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead. "i've got you," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody. "are you okay? what do you need?" he thanked you for the previous conversations you had, so he could take care of you more calmly.

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Hello I'm back again at how Arcane ironically continues the cycle of violence that it says it wants to end at the end of S2. It's unsurprising, but just like general Western sentiment, Arcane also perpetuates the idea of This violence must stop - therefore the oppressed must stop rising up, through not just its treatment of Zaunite characters but also through the way the writers just handwaved away the issues of classism and oppression facing Piltover-Zaun.

They also continue the tradition of giving antagonists very valid points as they rise up against their oppression, and then they take it an extra step so they can villainize the oppressed and go like "hey actually look at their monstrous actions therefore they're all BAD and their points are invalid and these dangerous revolutions need to be put down." While I will give that Arcane certainly does give more nuance than standard Western media, it still ultimately falls into this same trap.

Like:

Enforcers killed Jinx/Powder's parents, but at the very end of the day she and Vi get no apology for their parent's death but she's the one who's apologizing to an enforcer for attacking the Councilors responsible for leading the oppression of Zaun

The shot of a Jinxer knocking away an enforcer's hand and then seeing that same enforcer helping an old lady and then feeling bad - like, oh no, this person who's part of a force that's been actively killing your people actually helps old ladies, actually everything is okay now

Renni, whose motivation was to avenge her son, is framed in a monstrous light while Jayce, who literally killed her child (a child!) does not even get a single second of introspection as he faces a grieving mother (Is there anything as undoing as a daughter/child? seems not to apply to Renni at all I guess)

The Zaunite characters that achieve any level of "peace" at the end with any part of Piltover are: - Vi, who gets together with an enforcer who literally gassed her city, and gets not a single moment of conflict past her initial apprehension at joining the enforcers and some jabs from Jinx that she brushes off. I do allow though that her getting together with Cait has been set due to game lore since a very, very long time. - Sevika, who is tokenized and placed on a hostile council - Jinx, who literally exiles herself and fakes her death - I'm not even going to count Viktor under this category given how Cosmic Horror Machine Herald completely does not relate to the themes of classism (but therein lies another problem, how Arcane did not address the systemic barriers that led him to this!)

Was Cait wrong for mourning over her mother? No, absolutely not. Was it understandable that she was extremely distraught, and wanted what she thought was justice? Yes, it was. Was it okay that she gassed civilians and then thought exactly zero (0) thoughts about how she was hurting innocents was it okay that she led a team to brutally continue the oppression of Zaun? No, it really fucking wasn't.

Overall, Arcane sustains the status quo; in doing so, it continues supporting a system that perpetuates violence against the working class, a system in which the marginalized must bend the knee to achieve a surface level of "peace".

[halfwayhearted]

I seen that you did a lot of Criminal minds stuff could you do one for JJ please😄

Super Crush — Jennifer Jareau.

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Reader

Summary: Unable to stop yourself from sharing your future plans, you notice JJ’s eyes wandering unmistakably.

Word Count: 425+

Disclaimer/s — WUH LUH WUH + established relationship! :3

A/N: Truuuuuuuuuuuust, I need her expeditiously. Also, I got back to this sooo late, that’s my bad… hey…

One question, just one, had you rambling. A lot.

The blonde in front of you didn’t seem to mind. As soon as she asked the question and you answered almost immediately, she turned toward you, tilted her head, and crossed her arms.

That was one of the reasons why you loved her.

If anyone was truly attentive, it was her. She was more than happy to listen whenever you spoke. If asked, she’d claim it was because she found your plans intriguing. But in reality, it was so she could bask in the sound of your voice—the way it’d rise with excitement when you talked about something even remotely riveting, or the way it’d soften tenderly when you mentioned something that clearly upset you. She could always, always understand you through those subtle nuances.

Maybe you were… too excited. Deciding to calm down a bit, you slowly wrung your hands together, finally taking a deep breath and the chance to actually look at her as you continued.

That’s when you noticed. Her gaze had wandered down to your mouth, and she seemed completely unaware that you had caught her in the act.

Could you even say that you caught her? What if something was distracting her? You suddenly felt a little self-conscious, “Did my lip gloss smear?” Your fingers swiping at the corner of your lips.

With that, she stiffened, eyes locking onto yours in an instant. “Did it—what? No, no, it's good.”

‘It’s good.’ It’s good. Right… why was she looking?

That question lingers in your mind when you speak, your eyes narrowing playfully. “You are so not subtle, do you know that, Jennifer?”

She sputters at the accusation, “I am subtle.”

“No, you’re not!” You laughed, “You were looking at my lips for a solid three minutes before I even said something. That’s creepy, you’re creepy.”

“Oh, so… what, I can’t look at my girlfriend now?”

Well! Well. “What do you want for dinner, hm?”

A short laugh escapes her lips while her body instinctively leans toward yours, her hand sliding around your back. “Huh, that’s what I thought… and it doesn’t matter. It’s your day to choose.”

“It’s either take-out or I make something. Oh! How about tacos? It’s Taco Tuesday. That okay?”

JJ hums, “Sounds good, I’ll get what you get.”

“Okay! I’ll go order,” you paused, “Love you.”

Placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, she plops down on the couch, her eyes sparkling with affection as she smiles and says, “I love you, too.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[sailorrhansol]

Amnesia | Teaser c.sc (m)

❀ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

❀ Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

❀ Word Count: TBD

❀ Genre: FWB to Lovers

❀ Type: Smut, Angst if you squint

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Teaser Warnings: Recreational drinking, tension

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin. 

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.” 

“No, no, you are. Thank you.” 

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.” 

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.” 

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.” 

“I like winning.”

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do. 

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.” 

“I’m down.” 

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back. 

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.” 

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.” 

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?” 

“What will you give me?” 

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful. 

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more. 

You already do want more. 

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment. 

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

[tinydefector]

Transformers kinktober Day 1

Exhibitionisn (ROTB Mirage)

Mirage/reader/ Noah

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, valveplug, Feeling up, cumming from touch.

@tf-kinktober2024

Day 2

The next fic should be the update to the marine centre tomorrow night.

__________________

Car shows had always been something that fascinated Mirage, he had seen them a few times but never taken the opportunity to visit one himself. But trying to convince Noah to go with him to one was hard enough. He needed a human to enter into them even if it was just one of those ones where he sat there and got to look pretty.

"Oh come now, Nooooaaaaahhh" Mirage nearly whines out, draping himself artfully across the beat up car Noah was currently working on restoring for some cash. "You know you want to! All the shiny cars, you can look around and chat up some people." 

Optics cycle wide in an exaggerated plea, glossa clicking cheekily. “Don't you want to show off your pretty Porsche?. I'll make it worth your while, hmm? Give you a ride you'll never forget..." He moves to lay across the cab, a soft purr vibrating in his intake. "Come on, it'll be fun! Live a little " 

"Mirage I'm not taking you to essentially a car porn show" Noah calls out while moving around the Garage looking for different tools and parts. " not to mention I still haven't finished half the work on you, cause you won't sit still, you paint looks good but ya insides!" He huffs out while fidgeting with a touch and spark plugs.

"Awww, Noah, don't be such a bore! It's not car porn, it's car appreciation."

 "And besides, you know you love fine-tuning me - I'm your favourite Porsche to tinker with, admit it!" Revving his engine in a playful chuff, Mirage moves over the car leaning down to try and press himself against Noah's back. 

 "We can make a date for it! bring baby with us and everything. Please? Pretty please?" glossa flicking Noah's cheek in a cheesy fight to gain his attention. "Ewww don't like me!" He shouts at the cybertronian. Jumping back to try and keep his distance from the mech. "You're a pest, why do I even keep you around!" He shouts, had the two not known each other well someone would have assumed Noah was angry. 

Mirage reels back with an overblown gasp, aervo flying to his chestplate. "Noah, how could you wound me so! I thought what we had was special." His expression crumples into one of utter devastation, lip quivering theatrically as optics begin to shimmer with nonexistent tears. "All I want is to spend quality time with my boy. Is that really so much to ask?"

Collapsing onto the floor in a dramatic sprawl. "You might as well sell me for scrap, if I mean so little to you! See if I care, I'll - I'll just..." Noah is quicker than Mirage with his own comeback. "Keep it up and I just might, got someone who'd pay good for you" he shot back while rolling his eyes as he moved around to find the spanners and socket wrench he needed. It was playful teasing. 

The fake sobs cut off with an indignant squawk at Noah's quip. "You wouldn't dare! I'm a Porsche, not some rusted beater!" 

"10k Take it or leave it Noah" their lover calls out as they walk into the garage. "Hey handsome" they coo while walking up to Mirage. He sits up hastily, batting away nonexistent tears to throw them a dazzling grin scooping them up into his arms. " light of my existence! Tell this sparkless fleshie he needs to take me to the car show this weekend."

Revving his engine playfully. "Besides, 10k? I'm worth twice that, easy. Make it 20 and we've got a deal." It earns a laugh from them as they move towards mirage.  "Ahh but 10k would be a steal for me" they hum while pressing a kiss to his lips. "Hi baby missed you"  It earns a groan from Noah. "Don't work him up he's a nuances already, keeps pestering me about car shows" Noah calls out.

Mirage trills happily at the kiss, Weaving his arm around their waist, Mirage pulls them in close. "I'd be on my best behaviour, promise! We'll check out all the sweet rides and get to sit pretty for you two, come on I want to do something where I get to feel special outside of being an alien on your planet”

Mirage whirs and clicks pleadingly. "One little car show?" 

"Come on Noah! Look at that face, you can't say no to that face" they whines, walking up and slumping against the human man, Pressing a kiss to his cheek "Come on it will be fun, unless you have something else you'd rather do" Noah sighs deeply, giving his love a look. But he has to admit, it was getting harder and harder to say no to those faces. 

"Alright, fine! You win." He throws up his hands in defeat, though a small smile plays at his lips. "We can check out the car show this weekend."

Mirage lets out an ecstatic whoop, scooping Noah and Baby up in a hug that has them dangling off the ground. 

That's what had led up to the show and shine. Mirage sat in line with his hood up with Noah working on his engine, doing little tuning and checks. Mirage's other lover hat in the passenger seat handling Noah tools when he asked for them. "Easy Raj, don't get too excited" they hum while their fingers dance along Mirage's interior teasingly.  

Mirage revs his engine impatiently as Noah putters around under his hood, not at all accustomed to staying still for so long. Mirage lets out a plaintive little whine barely above a whisper. "You're killing me, baby!" he pleads. 

A couple stop to talk with Noah for a moment but neither Mirage or his other lover pay much attention as their hands begin to teasingly trace over the gear stick and centre console. 

"You're the one who wanted to come here now you have to suffer" they call teasingly. Mirage revs his engine in protest, though it comes out more like a stalling sound. “sorry, still doing a lot of work on this beauty,  going to have weird noises till we can get them fixed or tune them out” they call out casually to the people who take interest in watching Noah work. 

He grumbles softly as Noah pats his hood with a quiet chuckle, as he shows Mirage's engine and equipment off. "Really starting to regret begging you slaggers to bring me. This is torture!" Mirage whines through the radio hoping it isn't too loud for anyone to hear. 

Mirage stifles a needy groan building in his intake. His plating buzzes wherever Noah's hands dig deeper into the engine bay looking for different areas, but never fully working on another.  "You two are pure evil, I hope you know that," he manages, though his tone holds no malice. If anything, it's downright desperate with want. 

His entire frame vibrates to contain the urge to transform and pounce on them both right then and there in front of so many humans, they were doing it to spite him kneoing full well he couldn't do anything. 

more. "You going to overload huh?" They teases, enjoying watching the mech suffer as both themself and Noah tease. “hmmm might have to play with these vents a little” they coo while fingers dance over them. A squeal like a fan belt leaves Mirage onto for a stalling sound before his enough settles again. 

"You both know exactly what you're doing," he gasps softly, intake heaving. His engine races, Whining needily. Their hand moved much slowly along his interior, working him while Noah played with his engine. It makes his spike ache in need as trans fluid leaks from him.

They've wound him so tightly to the brink that all he can do is tremble helplessly, unable to move or even grab them to interface with. “So close, don't stop..."  It's an exquisite agony, being restrained without being status cuffed. "Mmm good boy, is that an overload for us?" Noah purrs at him. Mirage's vision whites out in bliss as waves of ecstasy wash over him, cresting higher than he thought possible. Locked in the throes of release wrung from him by his human's adept hands. 

His trembling fades slowly, Rebooting lazily, Mirage lets out a pleasured sigh, every nerve singing with afterglow. "Raj you alright, you haven't short circuited?" They ask softly, running a hand over his steering wheel. Mirage can't help but purr lazily in reply, humming engines struggling to reboot after such an intense pleasure crash. 

"Give me a klik, I'm still rebooting," he mumbles, Shuddering one last electrical aftershock, Mirage slowly flickers back to awareness. "You absolute glitches! Springing an overload on me" He huffs out only for his little lovers to laugh in amusement.  

 "Aww Raj, don't be like that you wanted to go to the show and Shine, you got your little moment to show and shine. Noah told you it was a car porn show" they tease, Noah makes a choking noise in amusement as he finishes up by giving mirage a quick under crage wipe. 

"Don't remind me, I should've known better than to trust you!” He gives them a final huff. "Let's get out of here and blow. I need to blow off some steam after that” he grumbles but no malice is in his voice.  He's rather content and weightless in his own sense. 

______________

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[dracosbabygirl8]

TWIN

Theodore Nott x reader!Matteo Riddle’s twin sister - PART 2

Summary : in which Theodore Nott develops a forbidden crush on his twin sister's best friend in three situations (inspired by this tiktok)

Warning : toxic siblings relationship, mention of alcool and smoke (lmk if i missed any)

n/a : it's my very first writing, and I'm soooo nervous to post it!! and i also questioned myself if i had to provide a better ending. i just love the suspens and the tension in this one, but if you wanted more details about what private place you go, just let me know, and i’ll add it in the second part (yeah, it's already in the works). hope you enjoy

As Mattheo Riddle's twin sister, navigating daily life isn't a walk in the park. While he can be an incredible brother, showering you with everything you desire and providing unwavering comfort in times of distress, his overprotective nature poses a challenge. No one dares to approach you as he harbors a deep distrust, particularly towards men.

You're in the slytherin common room, casually hanging out with Pansy, Enzo and Blaise when Theo, Matteo, and Draco join you after their weekly quidditch training.

As soon as Matteo enters, he lightly taps your shoulder, which is touching Enzo's shoulder due to the smallness of the sofa you're seated on « hey more space, shawty » he remarks. You chuckle and roll your eyes, finding him quite ridiculous, but you oblige, shifting forward to avoid bothering your brother, who seems to be in a delighted mood, likely due to their quidditch win against ravenclaw.

Draco wanted to teases him a bit « let her breathe mate, she needs to experiment yk, have a boyfriend, etc » he says while lighting a cigarette. « Oh, i had a boyfriend once » you share with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Blaise jumps in with curiosity « and... how did it end? ».

You turn your head, your eyes narrowing as you fix a deep, playful stare on Matteo, your tongue rolling on your cheeks « and…he broke his jaw ». Laughter ripples through everyone, and amidst the chuckles, you catch a faint « that was predictable » from Theo, who observing the dynamic between you and your twin brother, shoots you an amused look, recognizing the subtle nuances in your expressions. Undeterred, you retort « yeah, but we were 11... » casting a mischievous glance at Matteo, who now sports a proud, devilish smile, you add « poor Craig... » in a hushed whisper, you shake your head in a sorry way before erupting into laughter with the others.

•••

You take place in the Great Hall patiently awaiting Matteo’s return from detention, you focus on a parchment resting on your lap. Meanwhile, Theo enter the Great Hall either, he see you, lonely sitting, while reading your parchment. Pretty as always, distinguished as always, like you were out from a fairytale.

He approach you confidently. You feel his intense gaze, accompanied by the wisps of smoke from his cigarette. « may i join? » you just replies with a light « sure » he take place next to you, dangerously close. « What are you doing here? » he attempts to start a conversation « uh- just waiting for Mattie to get out of detention. I had to give him my notes from potions before his quidditch training, n’you? » you answer. « Waiting for him to go to quidditch training » he replies, smiling lightly. « Is it your notes? » he points to your parchment, and you nod. He moves a bit closer, your knees now touching. « You’ve beautiful handwriting » he says while leaning, his words dancing tantalizingly close to your cheeks, the warmth of his breath and the alluring blend of his cologne and cigarette teasing your senses, sending shivers down your spine.

You turn your head towards Theo, faces remarkably close, and you find yourself lost in his deep green eyes. However, as you spot Matteo descending the stairs in the background, you swiftly step back on the bench in a heartbeat, creating a more formal distance between you and Theo.

« What are you two doing here? » Matteo inquires, reaching an eyebrow as he approches. « We were just waiting for you. I wanted to give you this since you overslept this morning, it's the notes from the potion class that you missed » you explain while handing him your parchment, Matteo expresses his gratitude by offering a light embrace and kissing your forehead.

« Here we go, mate, we'll be late for the match, i have to change » he says to Theo, already hurrying off and heads towards the stairs.

Before following him, Theo stands up and suggests « yk i think we should go out together sometime » looking down on you. Lifting your face towards him, you internally question if you heard him correctly « no- i mean, i don’t date my brother friend’s- sorry » you respond with a light smile, wondering if it might be a stupid test orchestrated by Matteo. « Oh that’s suck- i guess i should have kicked his ass then » he replies with a smirk on his face, stubbing out his cigarette and abruptly start to walk, leaving you alone with your heart racing dangerously fast.

•••

Pansy informs you that Draco will be hosting a party in the slytherin common room tonight. Despite being aware that it will undoubtedly irk your dear brother, you are determined to attend the party. You begin preparing yourself, opting for a subtle makeup look, donning earrings, and choosing a dress that strikes a balance between not being too provocative yet clearly not formal, for the occasion.

As you walk through the corridor, the booming music and lively cheers signal that the party is in full swing already. You're well aware that your brother — likely already drunk or high, or both — is somewhere amidst the revelry. A slight unease settles in; you know how unpredictable he can be, especially if he's not in the mood or if someone approaches too closely. Despite this, you muster a resolve, telling yourself « no- not tonight »trying to convince yourself and boost your confidence, you repeat silently « i’m an adult, capable of making my own decisions ».

As you make your entrance, you subtly scan the crowded room to locate your brother, intending to steer clear of him as much as possible, « the magic trick is to avoid eye contact » Pansy says with a chuckle, guiding you to move in the opposite direction of Matteo and his friends — who are, incidentally, your friends as well — are seated.

As you approach the table to grab a drink in a green goblet, the sensation of numerous eyes on you is palpable. Engaging in conversation with fellow girls students, you gradually find your way to the dance floor, feeling a bit tipsy. Joining Pansy, fully immersed in the beat, you begin to sway your hips to the rhythm, surrounded by other drunk students from various houses. You’re suddenly yanked by the wrist, and a familiar voice demands, « what tf are you doing here? » you sigh; facing this situation was inevitable, knowing he would spot you eventually. « Well, i was just yearning for a generous dose of infantilization from my dear twin brother, so naturally, i found the prime spot for it. Thrilled to see you here too » you retort, rolling your eyes. He doesn't bother responding, guiding you towards the group seated on the couch. He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow, poised to question you once again, « just here to enjoy the party, same as you » you reply after a sigh « stop treating me like a fucking child, can you ? » you add. He settles into a seat, commanding « fine, stay next to me then. I didn't like the way they all dance around you » with a resigned sigh, you lower yourself onto the sofa, a tinge of disappointment lingering. Positioned between Matteo and Theo, you observe Draco, Blaise, and Enzo engrossed in a spirited debate on who is the sexier girl at this party while sipping on their whiskies.

« What a way to enjoy a party » you whisper between your teeth, arms crossed. Theo ear you and chuckles, « want to try it? » he hands you a blunt. Smoking is nothing new to you, and he knows that. You indulge in cigarettes daily and experiment with weed during parties surprisingly receiving Matteo's approval. You accept, take the blunt and muttering a quick « thank you » to him. As you savor the hits from the loaded blunt, the smoke lingering in the air, you immerse yourself in a conversation with Theodore.

Despite finding him very attractive, you haven't talked with him much, especially one-on-one. Unsure if it's because he doesn't like you (or quite the opposite) or if you lack the courage to talk with your brother's best mate, whom you've secretly fancied for so long.

The conversation delves into things and other, drifting effortlessly from one subject to another, punctuated by shared laughter at his jokes and reciprocal smiles. Suddenly, he says « uh- you’ve got a bit of lipstick—just right here », he point out the corner of your mouth. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks, and as you reach to wipe it off, he leans in, his thumb brushing the side of your mouth, « and there you go » he says, offering a smile. You feels your ear and your cheeks burn from his move and his smile. You smile him back. Unbeknownst to you, the entire scene unfolds before Matteo, who abruptly crashes onto the sofa between you two, declaring, « fine, enough conversation » while death staring at Theo.

A sigh escapes you, it's incredible how your brother manages to disrupt everything. Irritation seeps in as you become increasingly bored. Rising from the sofa, you announce « i’m a bit sleepy, guys, i'll head back to my dorm, g’night ». They wish you a restful sleep, and as you stand up, Matteo asks, « do you need me to accompany you until your door? » secretly hoping Theo would offer, you respond, « no, it's okay, i’ll find my way, don't worry ». Taking your time to bid farewell to friends, you discreetly search for Pansy to tell her about your quick interaction with Theo. When you can’t find her you leave the room in direction of your dorm.

During this time, Theo replays every moment of your conversation in his mind—the brightness of your laughter at his silly remarks, the way your hair cascades perfectly over your face, and the sensation of your warm skin against his fingertips. Lost in these thoughts, he stands up abruptly, stating, « uh- i’ll grab a pack of cigarettes from my dorm » and departs without waiting for the group’s reaction.

As he exits the common room, instead of heading to his dorm, he veers towards yours, hoping to run into you in the corridor. « Already heading to bed? » you inquire upon recognizing Theodore's silhouette in the darkness « uh- yeah, not really. Actually, I was searching for a pack of cigarettes in my dorm » he answers a bit surprised. « Isn't your dorm in the opposite direction? » you respond, a hint of doubt in your voice « hm yeah, you get a point. Tbh, i was searching for you » he admits with an embarrassed smile while scratching the back of his head, in the dimly lit corridor, you look at him a bit confused, he step forward and confesses « i guess we didn’t finish our conversation earlier ».

Seated on the corridor floor, you share deep conversations and cigarettes together. During a comfortable silence, Theo inquires « isn't it annoying to have Matteo as a brother? » while staring at the wall in front of you. « Oh, definitely! He's nice and all, but he tend to put a damper on my freedom. There are plenty of things that i want to do, but he doesn't allow me... » you share, exhaling a puff of smoke, « and if he stopped preventing you from everything, what's the first thing you'd do? » Theo locks eyes with you, his gaze intense and unwavering. You lock eyes with him, torn between sharing the genuine answer or letting it linger unspoken. As the alcohol and weed take hold, you consider whether to reveal the truth. Summoning by a burst of courage, you smirk lightly and say « this... » before crashing your lips onto his. Your arms wrap around his neck, he kisses you back instantly, placing his hand on your waist and deepening the kiss. Seconds pass in this intoxicating embrace before you separate to catch your breath.

« Are we waiting here for your brother, or should we find a more private place? » he inquire with a husky voice and a smirk on his face, the lingering warmth of the kiss still palpable.

masterlist

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

You've Got Some Nerve Trying to Buy Me

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Not proofread.

Two nights before Silvio's birthday一

A bunch of nobles and merchants showed up at his villa for the party, and there I was, facing him, not as his fiancée, but just as another businesswoman.

Silvio: "........."

Emma: "........"

(The wig totally completes the disguise. Even he shouldn't recognize me like this.)

Silvio: "What are you doing here?"

(He totally recognized me!)

Emma: "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just here for some business negotiations."

Silvio: "Hey, throw this one out."

Emma: "Wait, please don’t, Prince Silvio—I mean, ahem!"

I cleared my throat exaggeratedly to cover my slip.

He looked at me with a mix of exasperation and annoyance, his expression hard to read.

(Calm down. He might have noticed, but the others probably haven't yet.)

(In any case, I haven't lied.)

(I'm here to negotiate business with him.)

Emma: "You're just brushing me off without even hearing me out? You seem pretty different from what I heard."

Emma: "I heard you were a man who took business negotiations seriously."

Silvio: "Oh?"

(The atmosphere changed.)

Silvio: "If you say it's all business, I won't hold back. Don't complain if every single hair of yours ends up being mine."

Emma: "I came here with that resolve from the start."

(I was right to guess that he'd take on anyone in a business meeting.)

(It's going to be fine. If I stick to my plan, everything should go well.)

------------Flashback-----------

Earlier this morning一

Emma: "What? No letter again today?"

Carlo: "Yes, I'm sorry."

Carlo, who had just returned from Silvio's villa, bowed his head apologetically.

Emma: "Sorry if I came off like I was accusing you. It's not your fault."

Carlo: "But I promised I'd bring a reply! And yet, here I am like this."

(Carlo looks really tired. He must be very busy.)

(A schedule that requires him to stay holed up at the villa must be quite demanding.)

Five days ago, Silvio suddenly declared that he would be staying at his villa for a week for a business meeting. Without giving any particular explanation, he retreated to the villa, as he had announced.

Carlo had been acting as the messenger, exchanging letters with Silvio, but since two days ago, the replies have completely stopped.

Emma: "There's nothing wrong, is there?"

Carlo: "Um, there are some issues, but I think the main thing is just that he's super busy."

(If that's the case, I can't really complain.)

(But it's still lonely not being able to see him for a week. The whole villa retreat thing was so sudden.)

Carlo: "Lady Emma."

(I shouldn't let Carlo see me like this. I don't want to make him feel awkward.)

Emma: "I'm fine! Could you please deliver today's letter to Prince Silvio?"

Carlo: "Yes, of course."

Carlo: "........."

(What is it?)

Carlo: "Lady Emma, how about going to see Prince Silvio yourself?"

(What?)

Emma: "But Prince Silvio said not to come to the villa."

Carlo: "Yes. I've been strictly told not to bring you, but that doesn't mean you can't go there yourself."

Emma: "What do you mean?"

---------Flashback Ends--------

(So, I ended up making a plan with a somewhat desperate Carlo.)

(And now here I am, barging into the villa.)

Silvio: "So, what is it that you want to sell? If it's something trivial, I'll throw you out immediately."

His gaze was sharper than usual.

It looked like other people at the party had noticed the conversation, and their attention started to focus on us.

(I'm getting nervous.)

(But there's no turning back now.)

Emma: "Before that, let me first discuss the payment."

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "If you like my product, I'd like to request your birthday as the payment!"

Silvio: "Huh?"

Despite his incredulous tone, the room was buzzing with excitement.

A little farther away, Carlo nodded vigorously with his hands clasped in front of his chest.

(I can cook Silvio's favorite food and help him with his work.)

(As long as it's something that makes him happy, I can offer it as my product!)

Silvio: "Look, you..."

Merchant 1: "Please wait."

Merchant 1: "Shouldn't the opportunity for this business negotiation be offered to everyone present here?"

(What?)

Merchant 2: "You're right. We would also like to celebrate on the day if permitted."

(If permitted? What does that mean?)

(I thought every year, merchants and nobles would crowd in to celebrate his birthday.)

Despite my confusion, voices of agreement rise from the merchants.

Merchant 3: "If we can have Prince Silvio's birthday, I don't mind giving this up."

Merchant 4: "Same."

(Crap. What should I do? Everyone's getting into it!)

Merchant 1: "Prince Silvio, what do you think?"

With the words of one merchant, all eyes turned to Silvio.

Silvio: "Damn it, talking about buying someone's birthday and whatnot. You guys are saying whatever you want."

Silvio: "Since when did I become a product?"

(He's right. His birthday isn't a commodity.)

(Every year, he makes time to celebrate with me despite his busy schedule.)

(This year, I thought I'd go to him to ask for time, which is why I proposed this negotiation.)

(But if I can buy his time, it opens up a whole new situation.)

As I reflected on my own naivete and was about to back down,

Silvio: "Well, it’s not so bad to be on the receiving end once in a while."

(Huh?)

Silvio: "As you all said, the opportunity for business negotiations should be given equally. So, we’ll decide it by auction."

Silvio: "The one who bids the highest for me will get my entire birthday."

(WHAAAAT!?)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4

[hippolotamus]

can nobody hear me? (i've got a lot that's on my mind)

some EddieKaren thoughts that have been rolling around my brain since the end of S7 🫶

���How did you do it?” Eddie asks, staring into the wine glass loosely held in his grasp. “Do what?” Karen raises a brow at him before taking a sip of her Pinot Noir.  Eddie decides that’s a good idea, too. Something he can do to stall while the full bodied liquid bursts with flavor on his tongue. Earthy, oaky, all the little nuanced notes Eddie’s never been able to discern quite like other people. He knows hops, summer ales and IPAs, but tannins or detecting Napa versus some remote region in France? Not really his forte.  “The empty room,” he finally supplies. “When-"  He doesn’t finish his sentence - can’t finish it - but he doesn’t think he’ll have to.  “Oh.” Karen slowly lowers her glass to the coffee table and folds her hands in her lap.  “The first night-“ She fixes her gaze on a spot by the door, as if she expects to relive the nightmare all over again at any moment. “The first night without Mara was absolute hell. We sat in her room for hours, me and Hen. Like worried parents waiting up for someone we knew wasn’t coming.” She continues to stare, clicking her thumbnails together. “In the morning it was almost worse. To wake up and remember all over again. To realize nothing had changed except the position of the sun. Our daughter was still gone. Ripped right out from under us.”  He watches as her jaw ticks and she swallows down the bitter memories. She finally looks at him, her face painted with compassion and a watery smile. “But life didn’t stop. No matter how much we wanted it to. We still had Denny. He reminded us that we weren’t the only ones hurting.”  Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wanting to hide from her subtle insinuation. The way she always sees through him. “It was him and trying to figure out how to get Mara back. How to get our family back. That's what kept us going. What kept us from giving up on everything else.” A tangle of emotions sits in his chest, barbed wire slowly ensnaring his heart and lungs. He doesn’t have another kid to keep him afloat, or a villain councilwoman to fight. Only himself. Well, him and his demons. The voices in his head telling him he should have died in Afghanistan. Or on the sunny streets of LA. The insistent whispers that he should have skipped the step where he dared to hope, that he should have conceded Chris to his parents in the beginning. He wishes fixing this was as easy as convenient body cam footage.  “Hey.” Karen lightly touches his shoulder, just enough to remind him she’s still there. “He’ll come back.” It’s meant to be a comfort, he knows that. Except it feels like a platitude, the way people say ‘remember the good times’ when someone close dies. A part of him wants to throw the wine, to ask how she can say that. Because she doesn’t know. Just like Eddie didn’t know he would ever have to be without Chris again. A different piece of him wants to throw a tantrum. He wants to be the one screaming for once and making demands of the unfeeling universe.  Instead, he gives her a tight nod. “I hope so.”

[lafaiette]

Inspired by some posts going around, saying Rook should be able to flirt with Lavellan to make Solas super jealous 😂 (but also to help him stop being stupid and finally go back to her!)

There are nuanced spoilers from Veilguard, and my own idea regarding Rook and Solas' connection, since we still don't know how it works exactly.

----------------------------

"I have an idea."

Neve raised her eyes from the notes scattered on her desk, giving Rook a flat, unimpressed look. She knew, by know, that their ideas weren't always the best.

Sometimes, she feared the things their brain came up with.

"What kind of idea?" she asked, hoping it would be different this time, that they would surprise her, that this wouldn't be like that time they had sneaked upon Lucanis and almost got stabbed.

"I'm going to flirt with Lady Lavellan."

"Oh, goodness." Neve took a deep breath. So much for her hopes. "Well, you're going to die, I guess."

"Not for real!" Rook had the audacity to grin at her. "As a joke! Just to unnerve our Dread Wolf a little bit."

"Why would you do that?" Neve shook her head in disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself? If what Lace said is right, he could kill you in your sleep."

"Nah, he won't. We're almost friends at this point - and besides, he wouldn't risk ruining our mission."

"He would for Lady Lavellan."

"Come on!" Rook's grin came back, happy and excited. "I'm curious to see how he'd react! He's always so serious and grim, you know? But Varric said he was a completely different person when he was with the Inquisitor, and the rumours I heard..."

"He's in contact with you, is he not?" She tilted her head, studying their face. "Isn't he listening to this conversation right now?"

"Our connection is severed most of the time. There are moments when I can feel him being present, but they don't last long, and I always have to update him on our plans." Rook scratched their neck. "I have no idea how much he's able to glimpse from that prison he's stuck in, to be honest. It doesn't look like a great place to be in."

"It was a prison made specially for mad elven mages." Neve sighed, going back to the more pressing topic. "Seriously, Rook, this is a terrible idea."

"Hey, he deserves it! Haven't you seen how kind and gracious Lady Lavellan is? If anything, I'm going to help them get back together! Trust me, this will help them. I'm basically doing them a favour!"

"You're going to scare that poor woman." Neve glared at them, almost disappointed. "I won't let you be a creep."

"Oh, Neve, who do you take me for?" Rook was at the door, ready to leave, ready to start their diabolical plan. "I will be the perfect gentleman, just like Emmrich."

"He is a gentleman, while you're acting like a mischievous nug!"

Rook left with a booming laugh; Neve stared at the door, trying to squash her morbid curiosity under a sense of professionalism and dignity.

But a part of her was looking forward to the consequences of Rook's insane prank.

----------------------------

"Lady Lavellan." Rook smiled at the elven woman, Solas' presence like a burning itch in their brain, right behind their eyes. "You look stunning this morning."

They even bowed to her.

Davrin and Harding stared at them as if they had gone mad. Lady Lavellan blinked, eyes wide, then replied, as prim as ever:

"Thank you?"

"Should you need anything, please don't hesitate to call upon me. It shall be my honour to serve a wonderful, beautiful person such as yourself."

Davrin made a weird sound, a noise between a snort and a choking gasp. Harding covered her mouth with a hand.

Lady Lavellan's shock only grew - but her background as an important political figure was indeed evident, for she didn't let it colour her next words nor her reaction.

"Thank you, Rook. You're very kind."

She even smiled a little, even though she still looked a bit perplexed.

Rook grinned at her, then left. The burning, the presence inside their head, felt like a roaring inferno now.

----------------------------

"Here, my lady - I heard you like these particular berries. I made sure to buy some from you while I was in Treviso."

Rook filled her plate with sweet, red berries, and Lady Lavellan's face did light up, her eyes filled with wonder and joy.

"Oh, thank you! It's been so long since I ate these!"

"Only the best for you." Rook bowed their head at her, then turned to pass a jug of water to Lucanis, who was sitting next to them and had heard their exhange with the Inquisitor.

The Antivan Crow was looking at them, studying them, his lips slightly curled upward.

"Yes?" Rook grinned at him.

"Spite says you're going to die soon, my friend."

"Oh, Neve said the same thing!"

----------------------------

"Oh, Rook, here you are! Lady Lavellan and I were discussing some matters related to the Mourn Watch. Would you like to join us?"

"Of course, Emmrich." Rook accepted the cup of tea Manfred was diligently handing them, thanking him with a nod of their head. "I'd love to spend more time with you and our beautiful guest."

Emmrich almost choked on his tea. Lady Lavellan kindly offered him her handkerchief.

"Has someone ever painted you, my Lady?" Rook sipped the hot beverage without a care in the world, even raising their little finger. "I can't believe no one has. Such a gorgeous, dazzling smile should be preserved for eternity."

"Well, uh... Solas painted the frescoes in the rotunda at Skyhold. And..." She looked down, into her cup, suddenly quiet and timid. "He made some charcoal portraits of me."

Rook felt bad, guilt squeezing their heart. They hurried to improve the mood.

"Charcoal portraits are well and good, but your beauty and kindness should be painted on gilded vaults. Or perhaps sculpted, to fill the world with your grace!"

She snorted, the prelude to a giggle. When she left to check on Varric, Emmrich sighed and stared and stared, until Rook had to speak up.

"What?"

"My friend, why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you have a death wish. We could have talked about this sooner."

"I don't have a death wish!"

"I know these are hard, frightening times, but you must let death come to you, not the other way around. You have your whole life ahead of you!"

"Emmrich, really..."

"Why don't we start some therapy sessions? We do it all the time in the Mourn Watch - it's a very taxing job on the soul, after all."

"Therapy sess-"

"Manfred, my boy, be a dear and fetch me some ink and paper. Now, Rook, lie down and tell me when your suicidal intentions have first started..."

----------------------------

"Rook."

"Taash. Bellara."

"Oh, Rook." Bellara sniffed, pushing back tears. "It's been an honour."

"Wait, what? Are you two leaving?"

"No?" Taash frowned. "You are."

"And quite soon, I fear. The Dread Wolf isn't the merciful type." Bellara nodded sagely.

"Hey, hey, I'm not leaving! Solas and I are getting along swimmingly!"

"The only swimming you'll do will be in a neverending nightmare, my friend." Taash said, patting their shoulder. "Well. It's been fun."

----------------------------

"Goodnight, my Lady."

Rook kissed Lady Lavellan's right hand - no, not really. They didn't even touch it with their lips, not wanting to creep her out, and they knew the Dread Wolf would really smite them if they even dared think about touching her.

"Oh, uh... goodnight."

"Your beauty and brilliance eclipse the stars." Rook continued. "I can see now why both Ferelden and Orlais adored you so."

She watched them for a second, confused and embarrassed, then realization shone on her face, and a bright smile appeared on it.

In that moment, Rook knew she knew the real reasons behind their silly behaviour. She even looked happy, as if Rook had done something good.

"Goodnight, Rook." Her smile was amused, now. "Say hi to Solas for me, please."

----------------------------

Rook fell asleep, excitement and apprehension creating a churning cocktail in their stomach. Perhaps Emmrich was right; perhaps they really had a death wish. No sane person would ever tease the ancient elven god of rebellion by flirting with his beloved vhenan.

The prison was darker than usual. They could barely see their feet, and the ground felt shakier, almost crumbly, as if they were standing on sand.

Beneath them, endless darkness, a pit of shadows and oblivion.

"Solas...?"

Then they felt an overwhelming pressure, their head splitting in half, ash in their mouth. Rook groaned, gritting their teeth, and squeezing their eyes shut.

"Oi, cut it out!"

"Your beauty and brilliance eclipse the stars." Solas' cold voice echoed, reaching Rook from all directions; but they couldn't see him, couldn't find him, and the pressure on their head only increased.

"You should be sculpted, to fill the world with your grace."

"It's true! She's quite graceful!"

A growl, then suddenly the pillar of earth and sand on which Rook was standing trembled, and for a moment they truly feared Solas was about to cast them down.

They saw him, then: standing just a few paces away, fire in his eyes, his teeth gritted into a snarl, fists clenched. Poor fellow.

"You disgusting little...!"

He took a deep breath, but Rook could see the vein throbbing on his forehead. When next he spoke, Solas sounded only slightly calmer.

"Leave Lady Lavellan alone. She has no time for your inane words. You are embarrassing her."

"Are you sure? Because I think I saw the prettiest of blushes when I..."

The pillar trembled again, and Rook had to hold onto it to avoid falling down. When they raised their eyes, Solas was gone, and they heard his voice coming from behind.

Very close. Extremely close, so much they thought he was finally standing on their same level.

But they also felt something else, a huge presence, as tall as a mountain, where there should have been only a bald elf. They didn't turn, their instinct telling them they would see too many eyes, and fangs, too.

"Leave her alone." Solas' voice said, sounding the same as before, but also not, an undercurrent of fury and pain hidden beneath every word. "This will be my last warning."

"Fine, fine! I was just joking, and she knows that!"

A moment of silence, then: "... What?"

Rook laughed, the pressure behind their eyelids finally subduing.

"You're still deep in it, huh? Don't worry, she feels the same. Every time we talk about you, she gets this soft look on her face. Oh, and she says hi, by the way."

The huge presence also vanished, and when next Rook blinked, Solas was standing before them again. He looked surprised, but also curious, eager to hear more, hope and sorrow written all over his pale face.

"What, you really thought I was trying to hit on her? She's a great person, but she's not really my type. And I know she has eyes for you only... even though I can't understand why. No offense."

Solas looked away, sorrow winning over hope.

"I often wonder the same."

"Try not to be an ass once you're finally out of here, yes?" Rook grinned at him, feeling their consciousness return in the waking world. "She's been waiting for you."

This time, only hope shone on Solas' face, chasing away the shadows of pain.

----------------------------

Time later, at the apex of their fight against the Evanuris, Solas found himself finally free, walking the corridors and rooms of the Lighthouse as he had done millennia ago, ready to stand against his mortal enemies one more time.

Things were a bit strained between him and Rook's companions. There wasn't - there couldn't be - the same sort of camaraderie he had had with his companions of the Inquisition.

He apologized to Varric, of course. He could barely look him in the eye, so vast was his shame - but the kind dwarf waved off his apologies, an easy smile on his face. And Solas knew he had been forgiven, even though he could scarcely believe it.

And then there was Lavellan, his vhenan. She smiled at him whenever they met in the Lighthouse, or at dinner, eating at the same long table with everyone else.

At first, he tried to be distant, not wanting to hurt her, not sure she actually wanted to have anything to do with him, despite Rook's reassurances.

But then he couldn't stay away from her any longer. He kept looking at her, saw her stealing glances, too, and he finally decided to listen to his heart.

"Good morning." He greeted her one day, when he bumped into her while heading to a quick breakfast.

"Good morning." she replied in kind, her smile soft and luminous like a wisp of the Fade.

"I..." Solas cleared his throat, moving closer to her. He looked at everything but her - her prosthetic arm, the ground, the view from the windows - then he finally found the courage to lock eyes with her.

"You look beautiful, vhenan."

Her smile widened, and an adorable blush coloured her cheeks. Behind her, Scout Harding and Davrin let out a soft "aww".

"Thank you."

"There... There is a balcony overlooking the Fade behind those doors. Would you..." He cleared his throat again, feeling his own cheeks burn. "Would you like to have breakfast there? Together?"

"I'd love to."

Solas returned the smile, a great weight lifted from his shoulders. He offered her his arm, and she took it, letting him guide her.

They were so busy smiling, lost in each other, they didn't see Rook watching them from the railing just above their heads.

"Hah!" Rook shook their head, a fond grin on their face. "Knew it would work."

[apothecaryscript]

Japanese "Onomatopoeia" 『オノマトペ/Onomatope)』

There are two types in Japanese Onomatopoeia. One is 「擬音語(ぎおんご/Gi-on-go)」 which is “written sound” as we hear, and the other is 「擬態語(ぎたいご/Gi-tai-go)」 which is “written sound of status” as we look or feel.

1) 「擬音語(ぎおんご/Gi-on-go)」: “sound” onomatopoeias

As examples, let’s compare onomatopoeias for some animal sounds in Japanese and English.

犬（いぬ/Inu）「ワンワン(Wan-wan)」 Dog: “Woof woof” “Bow-wow”

猫（ねこ/Neko）「ニャー(Nyaa)」 Cat: “Meow”

牛（うし/Ushi）「モー(Moo)」 Cow: “Moo”

豚（ぶた/Buta）「ブーブー(Buu-buu)」 Pig: “Oink oink”

にわとり（Niwatori）「コケコッコー(Kokekokkoo)」Rooster: “Cock-a-doodle-doo”

2) 「擬態語(ぎたいご/Gi-tai-go)」 “status” onomatopoeias

This type is onomatopoeias of “status”. An easy-to-understand example is “わくわく(Waku-waku)” which became famous through “SPY x FAMILY.” “Waku-waku” means being excited or thrilled about something you look forward to. Although the status does not have that sound, we can imagine Anya’s facial expression and emotions just by seeing the word.

By using onomatopoeias, we can describe the situation or the person’s feelings in detail with simple and short words. For example, if you want to say “It’s raining,” here are some onomatopoeias, from the lightest to the heaviest;

①「雨(あめ/Ame)がポツリポツリ(Potsuri-potsuri)と降(ふ/Fu)っている」…Raindrops are falling at intervals.

②「雨がポツポツ(Potsu-potsu)降っている」…Just a few raindrops are falling.

③「雨がパラパラ(Para-para)降っている」…Raindrops are falling continuously

④「雨がしとしと(Shito-shito)降っている」…It’s quiet, but certainly raining continuously.

⑤「雨がザーザー(Zaa-zaa)降っている」…It’s raining hard and making a fair amount of noise.

⑥「雨がドシャドシャ(Dosha-dosha)降っている」…It’s raining dangerously hard.

Onomatopoeias have existed since before manga and anime existed, but manga has made us more familiar with them, and they have enabled us to share delicate expressions with visual images using just a few words. So I think you’ll be familiar with them naturally while watching anime or manga, without extra effort to memorize them.

Hereunder I’ll pick up some lines with onomatopoeias from Season 1 episodes;

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From Episode 1 : Maomao

猫猫「たかがウワサ話に何を真剣になってるんだ。こんなのは、ただの憶測にすぎない。すぎないが…ちいとばかし、行ってみるか。そそそそそ…」

Maomao “Takaga uwasa-banashini nanio shinkenni natterunda. Konnanowa tadano okusokuni suginai. Suginaiga…chiito-bakashi itte-miruka. Sososososo…”

Maomao “Why am I taking a rumor so seriously? It’s all just conjecture. But still… I guess I can take a quick peek.”

Episode 13 : Serving in the Outer Court

壬氏「勉強の方はやっているのか？」

Jinshi “Benkyono-howa yatte iru-noka?”

Jinshi “Are you studying?”

猫猫「そそそそそ…」

Maomao “Sososososo…”

Maomao “Sneak, sneak.”

壬氏「おい！」

Jinshi “Oi!”

Jinshi “Hey!”

猫猫「そそそそそ…」

Maomao “Sososososo…”

Maomao “Sneak, sneak!”

「そそそそそ…」: sneak, sneak. (This onomatopoeia might be newly created in this anime.)

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From Episode 4 : The Threat

猫猫「ぴょーん、ぴょん。仕方ない。もう一度、作り直すか」

Maomao “Pyōn, pyon. Shikata nai. Mo ichido, tsukuri-naosuka.”

Maomao “Boing boing. Oh, well. Guess I have to cook it again.”

「ぴょん(Pyon)」： Jumping, 「ぴょーん(Pyoon)」: Jumping (higher or longer)

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From Episode 5 : Covert Operations

やぶ医者「お待たせしました、壬氏さ…しゅん」

Yabu Isha “Omatase shimashita, Jinshi-sa……Shun.”

Quack Doctor “Thank you for waiting, Master Jinshi- Oh.”

「しゅん(Shun)」: Get disappointed and depressed a little

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Episode 6 : The Garden Party

貴園「実際、若いの。だって、主上様を産んだのが…こしょこしょこしょ」

Guien “Jissai, wakaino. Datte, shujo-samao unda-noga… Kosho-kosho-kosho.”

Guiyuan “She is young. She gave birth to the emperor when she was…”!”

「こしょこしょ（Kosho-kosho）(with more comical nuance)」「こそこそ(Koso-koso)」： Talking in secret

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From Episode 6 : The Garden Party

桜花「ムカ～ッ！」

Infa “Mukaaa!”

Yinghua “Grr!”

桜花「キ～ッ！猫猫に謝りなさいよ！！」

Infa “Kiii! Maomaoni ayamari-nasaiyo!!”

Yinghua “Apologize to Maomao!”

「ムカッ(Muka)」 「ムカーッ(Mukaa)」「キーッ(Kiii)」： Getting angry

―――――――――――――――――――――――――――

From Episode 6 : The Garden Party

猫猫（へえ…こうして見ると、なかなか…。思ったより、お偉いさんなのか。やはり、武官に交ざっても違和感がない。

へえ、さっきの武官も、末席だが、年齢を考えると出世頭か？あのキラキラした宦官はいないけど、まあ、どうでもいい。おっ、それより毒見だ）

Maomao (Hee… Koshite miruto, naka-naka… Omotta-yori, oerai-san nanoka. Yahari, bukanni mazattemo iwakanga nai. Hee, sakkino bukanmo, masseki-daga, nenreio kangaeruto shusse-gashiraka? Ano kira-kira shita kanganwa inai-kedo, maa do demo ii. O, soreyori, dokumi-da.)

Maomao (He looks pretty good there. I guess he’s higher up than I thought. He doesn’t seem out of place among the military officers. Oh look, that officer from earlier. He’s at the very edge, but given his age, I guess that’s still impressive? Our glittering eunuch isn’t there, but who cares? More importantly, food tasting.)

猫猫（…新しいかんざし。宦官もかんざしをもらうのか。そういえば、襟も少し乱れてる。いつものキラキラさもない。うっ、宴席で姿を見ないと思ったら、そういうことか。でも、今なら年相応の青年に…というか、だいぶ幼く見える。こちらのほうが、まだいいな）

Maomao (…Atarashii kanzashi. Kanganmo kanzashio morau-noka. So-ieba, erimo sukoshi midareteru. Itsumono kira-kirasamo nai. U, ensekide sugatao minaito omottara, so-iu Kotoka. Demo, imanara toshi-so’o-no seinenni… to iuka daibu osanaku mieru. Kochirano-hoga mada iina.)

Maomao (A new hairpin? So the eunuchs gets hairpins, too? His collar is a little disheveled, too. Plus his normal glitter is gone. Is that why he wasn’t at the party? But right now, he’s acting his age more than usual… Or rather, he looks quite a bit younger. I prefer him like this, somewhat.”

猫猫（しおらしい。無茶なことを言っているのは承知の上か。いつも通り、無駄にキラキラしてればいいのに。ここ最近の壬氏様は、以前よりもずっと子供のように見えて仕方ない）

Maomao (Shiorashii. Muchana koto’o itte-irunowa shochino ueka. Itsumo-doori, mudani kira-kira shitereba iinoni. Koko saikinno Jinshi-samawa, izen-yorimo zutto kodomono-yoni miete shikata-nai.)

Maomao (How modest. He realizes he’s asking for the impossible. He should just be excessively shiny like his usual self. For a while now, Master Jinshi has seemed much more childish than before.)

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From Episode 7 : Homecoming

猫猫「チョキチョキチョキ…カチャカチャカチャ」

Maomao “Choki choki choki… Kacha kacha kacha.”

Maomao “Clip clip clip. Clunk clunk clunk.”

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From Episode 7 : Homecoming

猫猫「シャーッ！」

Maomao “Shaaaaa!”

Episode 14 : The New Pure Consort

猫猫（ハッ！大事な教材を見せるわけにはいかない！）「シャーッ！」

Maomao (Ha! Daijina kyozai’o miseru-wake-niwa ikanai!) “Shaaaaa!”

Maomao （I can’t let him see my precious teaching material.）

シャー！(Shaaa!) ： Hissing sound of cats or snakes.  It can also show water flowing or something else, depending on the situation.

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Episode 12 : The Eunuch and the Courtesan

壬氏「どよどよ…いじいじ…じめじめ…」

Jinshi “Doyo-doyo… Iji-iji… Jime-jime…”

Jinshi “Wah, wah, boo-hoo, sob, sob…”

「どよどよ…」: Negative aura stagnates around there.

「いじいじ…」: sulking

「じめじめ…」: humid, muggy, gloomy mood

These words express how depressed Jinshi is, and he isn’t actually crying. I guess they’re translated into “Wah, wah, boo-hoo, sob, sob…” since there was no suitable short word.

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From Episode 13 : Serving in the Outer Court

白鈴「フフッ、つやつやのぷるぷるに仕上げておいたから」

Pairin “Fufu. Tsuya-tsuyano puru-puruni shiagete oita-kara.”

Pairin “We got her all dolled up for you.”

「つやつや」: glossy, shiny, dewy

「ぷるぷる」： jiggly, texture like a jelly 

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From Episode 13 : Serving in the Outer Court

猫猫（この間やけど薬の実験したから、ぐちょぐちょなんだよな～。しみる～！）

Maomao (Kono aida yakedo-gusurino jikken shita-kara, gucho-gucho nan-dayonaaa. Shimiruuu!)

Maomao (I just tried out some burn medicine the other day, so it’s really messed up right now. Stings!)

「ぐちょぐちょ」： wet and dirty, soaked and dirty

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From Episode 15 : Raw Fish

猫猫（フグの毒…！あのピリピリした痺れがいいんだ…ああ、食べたい）

Maomao (Fuguno doku…! Ano piri-piri shita shibirega iinda… Aa, tabetai.)

Maomao (Pufferfish poison… I love how it tingles and stings. Oh, I really want some now!)

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From Episode 18 : Lakan

猫猫（何の薬だろう…？）「フン…ぺろり」（…芋の粉か？壬氏様の薬だよな？）

Maomao (Nanno kusuri daro…?) “Fun…Perori.” (…Imono konaka? Jinshi-samano kusuri dayona?)

Maomao (I wonder what kind of medicine this is.) “Lick.” (Potato flour? This is for Master Jinshi, right?”

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From Episode 21 : How to Buy Out a Contract

猫猫（こういうのはベラベラ話さないんだな）

Maomao (Ko-iunowa bera-bera hanasa-nain-dana.)

Maomao (So, he doesn’t blab about that.)

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From Episode 21 : How to Buy Out a Contract

やぶ医者「んん…似てなくもないねえ。唾液を混ぜたら、糊もドロドロじゃなくなるのかねえ」

Yabu Isha “Nn…Nite-nakumo-nai-nee. Daeki’o maze-tara, norimo doro-doroja nakunaru-noka-nee.”

Quack Doctor “Hmm, I suppose so. Maybe mixing saliva into glue would make it less sticky as well.”

「ドロドロ」: muddy, thick, with a nuance of “dirty”

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Episode 22 : Blue Roses

小蘭「大丈夫だよ～。ぽい！」

Shaoran “Daijobu dayooo. Poi!”

Xiaolan “It’s fine.”

「ぽい！」: light tossing or throwing small thing away

[senlinyu]

Hey Sen!

I have a question. You've got an incredible eye for tiny details that add so much depth to your stories (to take some examples from Manacled alone, Aurore calling Draco 'Dad' in private, Hermione's hair always being braided, and so on). Are these things that comes naturally to you? Or do you have to really think about what to add?

(read: is there hope for us mere mortals?)

Love you and your crazy megalithic brain!

While I do admittedly like plot intricacy, a big part of it for me is adding details that contribute to a character or a relationship, not necessarily 'the plot.'

So like, Hermione's hair isn't a plot point, it's just an expression of who she is and how other people see her, it ends up revealing a depth of flavour to how she's chosen to define herself and a result how she's seen by her friends and Draco. Who Hermione is does drive the plot and so little details that reaffirm who she is, or add an additional facet of consistency, make her characterisation more compelling. Or Aurore calling Draco dad, is this little gesture of their familiarity, and the effort that Draco has put into being a different kind of father than he had.

But a lot of the time it's just a matter of making a choice that makes sense, and then tying it in, like a thread in a tapestry, where you stick one stitch to fill something out in a scene, and then you look at the rest and say, "oh I could add that here and here and here too" and then it's not just a filler stitch, it's detail and motif that you've made that adds to the overall nuance of the story.

Does that help? I know there's a lot of 'every single thing need to contribute to moving the plot forward' but I think that's something that's been taken a bit too far in some writing corners and all you get left with is a bunch of empty tropes and archetypes that don't say anything except what everyone else has already said a million times before.

[dr-spectre]

Guys, i wanna preach something to y'all.

If you really love a character and if they are really important to you, but you feel like a large majority of fans treat them poorly and they mischaracterise them. Don't be scared to talk about it.

PLEASE!

This is not even focused on Splatoon, no, this is just in general. If you genuinely love a character so much and they are treated in a way where you feel like it doesn't represent the character's true personality, events, arcs, etc, then speak up about it. Make a post on any social media platform or forum. Speak your peace, share your evidence, do what you can to say "hey guys. I think you should all take a second look at this character i really like! They have some cool stuff about them that not a lot of people talk about!"

I think a really great example of a character who's been really mischaracterised is Deadpool. In the comics he's a sad clown sort of guy where he hides his pain, suicidality and depression behind jokes and 4th wall breaks. He's a bad dude who tries his hardest to be a good person, but he fails over and over again and he doesn't believe he can ever be loved or respected. He's funny but he also has depth and layers which is so important to create an everlasting character. Or at least that's what I've heard he's like from comic fans. I haven't read the comics but i plan on to some day because I'm fascinated by his depth and i wanna experience that.

However in his first major solo appearance, which was the game, he was treated as only a loud mouth jokester who sees every woman he comes across as "awooga! boobies and ass!!!!" and all the depth and nuance is gone. Even though they had a comic writer who worked on Deadpool comics for years, he didn't fucking ATTEMPT to give the character any form of intrigue. Just... nothing. Only memes and pop culture references that'll become dated in 5 years.

And a lot of people think that's just who Deadpool is... That's how so many people got introduced to this character which caused misinformation to spread about him for so long... And that fucking sucks dude.

Thankfully the movies have some form of an emotional center with Wade and Vanessa's relationship and they give the character... SOMETHING!!!!! At least the comic fans seem to be pretty okay with movie Deadpool from my knowledge, which is good.

ANYWAYS! BACK TO SPLATOON!

Do you guys remember when Pearl and Marina used to be treated like this? Pearl as some big forehead joke of a character, while Marina was some bimbo with huge honkers and a giant waist.

Oh yeah, this was how they were treated for years. I remember it man, i fucking remember it all. I was there. Sorry to tell the new fans who joined from Splatoon 3. Even after Octo Expansion gave them detailed backstories and further explored their personalities, they were still mischaracterised as flanderised jokes and nothing more in the community.

But after people took the time to get to know these two, after people spent 7 years with them and discussed the interesting things about them online, they are now portrayed significantly better than how they used to be treated in the community and are celebrated as some of the best characters in the franchise. As they fucking deserve to be treated. Fans don't treat them as jokes anymore, casuals don't make tired old jokes anymore. Everyone loves these two now and for the right reasons.

And all it took was a small section of people to praise their best attributes and eventually overshadow the misinformation about them. Pearl is celebrated because she is genuinely a great character with a heart of gold and a want to care for the people around her. To make every day chaotic and to have fun with her CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND!

Marina is celebrated as a character who autistic people can look up to and find comfort in. AND THAT IS FUCKING AWESOME!!! AND IT ALMOST NEVER HAPPENED! If no one bothered to look deeper at her character then maybe many peoples lives could have never been changed for the better... Isn't that crazy to think about?

If you can change one person's perspective on a character you love, and they feel that energy and they wanna help you share that energy with more people, then i think you've done something truly amazing. Eventually that shit is gonna spread further and further AND FURTHER!!!!!!

Remember when Shiver and Frye were treated as jokes similar to Pearl and Marina at the start of Splatoon 3? Frye with her big forehead jokes and people calling her ugly due to... well... i'm gonna make some wild accusations here but... there might be an undertone of racism when people call Frye ugly... like... i'm just saying... I'm scared of what these people think about Indian women in the real world... What views they share about them... Frye is inspired by Indian culture and by proxy, Indian women. I'm just saying...

And, of course, fans gooning over Shiver because god forbid a woman exposes her midriff and has curvy hips... ugh...

BUT THANKFULLY IT'S CHANGED NOW! Lots of people see Shiver as a silly yet fun character who has the potential for depth down the line, which people are excited to see. People adore Frye and love her personality and her family.

There are people out there who say that Frye is actually cute and beautiful, AND YOU KNOW WHAT!?? I FUCKING AGREE! If people didn't share their love and takes on Frye then maybe she wouldn't become my favourite Deep Cut member.

Now... To tie it all back to me, I'm seeing this change in perspective for a character.... with Callie Cuttlefish.

During the years 2017 to 2022, Callie was always mischaracterised as some airheaded idiot who ended up getting herself "kidnapped" and "brainwashed" and had to be saved as she was some stupid helpless victim. This was seen in official material and fan comics too. I remember it man, i really do. Hell it STILL happens till this day. That fucking summer 2024 Nintendo magazine? Jesus christ dude...

But now? That perspective is changing... Sure not everyone is gonna fully agree and there probably isn't gonna be massive change in official media, social media such as YouTube and twitter, and of course wikis. Not everyone is gonna know about what Callie is truly like and what she has truly gone through. But....

That's okay.

I really don't wanna come across as some sort of gatekeeping fan, i really hate those kinds of """fans""" so much. I just wanna educate and share my love for a comfort character of mine. Eventually the perspective shared by me and others will be spread to other social media platforms and many more people. Because that's how the internet works baby!!!!

The perspective that Callie was just a girl suffering from fame and loneliness, a girl who wanted an escape from it all, a girl who went under hypnosis to numb her pain and stay in the corruptive darkness she built up for so long, a girl who wanted to help her enemies rather than stay in her current life with a cousin who isn't there for her anymore... A girl who didn't need to be saved, but a girl who needed to be reminded of the good memories she had with her cousin, to remember what she truly stood for and the love she wants to share with everyone via music... A girl who just needed... a fresh start....

She was never kidnapped despite what official sources say... She was never brainwashed despite what they tell you... Callie had agency... Callie was suffering... Just in a more nuanced and fascinating way.

that perspective... is spreading and... I'm so happy about it...

Anyways, that's all i have for you guys. Please share your love for a character with others, share your unique perspectives to the world, you have a voice, USE IT! I DON'T CARE IF IT'LL REACH TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE! ONE THOUSAND! A HUNDRED! ONE PERSON! DON'T FUCKING MATTER!

USE YOUR VOICE! PLEASEEEE!!!!!!!!