#thought I'd pop in and say hi :)
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Well then
I did not expect that I would be coming back. This fandom is impossible to stay away from, and I nostalgically went and stalked some of ya'lls tumblrs. Is it creepy if I re-follow? >.< I doubt anyone remembers me, but hi *waves* I hope I can post stories again soon. I'm alive and didn't die from my illness. Actually, to everyone's shock, I've recovered remarkably. I hope everyone has been well. *Hugs*
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Got any trans HCs for the amphibia trio? I love the many different interpretations I've seen from this fandom
I don't know about specific headcanons, I know I'm considering making Anne trans in RiAAU but I haven't decided yet.
In one hand: it would be interesting to think how she deals with her first periods because, well, amphibians don't have those, and Hop Pop assumes she's dying (she doesn't tell anyone else because she's so embarrassed). Not that he tells her that, but it really freaks him out. He thinks she has some sort of internal damage, and it's only after months of research that he finds out about some rare mammalian species, such as a few monkeys and rodents, that experience the same cycle Anne goes through. The whole point of this is that it makes Anne feel even more out-of-place. She doesn't remember her world or her parents, only that she came from "somewhere" (possibly another continent) full of people of her species, and she wonders if things would have been easier if she grew up with her biological family. I mean, surely this would be easier. It just serves as a reminder that she knows nothing about her species, not even its name, and she has no idea of how her biology works or what is good and bad for her or how long she'll live or what changes she'll go through.
.
BUT, on the other hand: Trans Anne. Let's start with the obvious: amphibians don't have penises or vaginas and they reproduce externally, meaning they like... release eggs and sperm in the water and they mix without the involvement of either parent, meaning no one knows what the cultural significance of a "penis" or a "vagina" tends to be in most human cultures. As a literaly 3yo, Anne probably didn't have an extensive understanding of s.ex and gender, and it wasn't like the clothes she showed up with told Hop Pop much. She just knew that, as time went on, she found herself relating more and more to the female frogs of Wartwood, and she almost subconsciously began to refer to herself as a girl. There wasn't any big coming out moment, more like a point in which, after months of ambiguity (this kid kept using different pronouns for herself) she just settled on some good ol' she/her and began picking somewhat girly clothes when Hop Pop took her to the market.
It's not like the concept of trans people doesn't exist in Amphibia, it's just that Anne didn't realize that was her situation until, at least, meeting Marcy, and noticing the differences between them. It's not like either of them had ever seen another human from up close, so they didn't know what to expect anyway. Anne's only encounters with Sasha beforehand had consisted on magical girl swordfighting in the sky and whatnot. Certainly not enough to discuss their unique biology, which is something Marcy is very excited to discuss, since she's never met anyone with her same "condition" before, and she wants to know everything, so she uses her as her little rat lab whenever she has the chance. Even then, since she also lacks all knowledge of human s.exual dimorphism and its cultural implications, she doesn't associate anything about either of their bodies to any specific gender that could possibly be asigned to anyone based on biological feautures. Since Sasha remembers the most from Earth, she's probably the only one who could maybe possibly remeber her mom or the kindergarden teacher saying something about "the difference between boys and girls", but by the point she's in speaking terms with Anne, and by the time she realizes their bodies are different, she doesn't really care.
That's not to say Anne doesn't experience dysphoria or that she never undergoes any kind of physical transition. It was probably around the time her voice started to change during puberty that she realized her case may be kinda unique: neither Marcy nor Sasha's voices have changed that much, she can tell even though she only sees Marcy in person like once every 3 years and all the words she exchanges with Sasha consist of death threats and insults. Plus, there's a clear difference between """male""" and """female""" voiced in frogs too. She doesn't want to sound like a man! She doesn't want to be anything like a man! Men are gross! Sorry Sprig, Hop Pop, but it's true. Men are icky icky yuck yuck and Anne is a girly girl. She doesn't want to turn into Stumpy! Or Buff Loggle! Oh, no, is that her future? She commits the triple mistake of 1) sending a letter to Marcy that same day, 2) knocking on Maddies' door promising her firstborn if she can save her from turning into Stumpy, and 3) she becomes obsessed researching mammalian biology in the archives. Bad decision. Bad bad. She's discovering things to feel dysphoric about she never even knew existed! Did you know mammalian mothers feed their offsprings with "milk" that comes from their "mammary glands"? Did Sasha and Marcy have those? She hates herself a little for checking out Marcy next time she sees her and she realizes that, indeed, in the past years she's grown a pair of those that Anne does NOT have. She notes that both she and Sasha are pretty much hairless. She used to think hair was a normal mammalian trait! That weasel that tries to eat the frogs every winter sure is covered in it!
Maddie shows up to her door with a bunch of new spells to try out, happy to have a willing subject. Most embarrassingly, Marcy starts doing her own research as soon as she gets Anne's letter and sends her all her discoveries, and now Anne feels mortified because Marcy knows about all the bad bad very bad changes she's going through (Marcy, for her part, is just fascinated by the nature of their "condition").
It takes a bit, but after a few very frenzied weeks, Anne comes to understad what's going on: her species had certain level of sexual dimorphism and she just happened to have been born with the supposed "sex" usually associated with "men" as a social category. When Hop Pop finds out, he burst into laughter. Oh, it was THAT all along! Anne made it sound so complicated, but it was just the same things he went through when he was younger, just the other way around ("Say what now Hop Pop?")! A few curses here and there and she won't have to worry about these so called "mammary glands" and "hair" anymore, though in the meantime, as Maddie perfects a human-friendly curse, she gets turned into all sort of different creatures. By the time it's done, she just wants to feel like... herself.
It's true that there are some things about her body that make her feel weird, like they don't quite fit in, but there are others she only worries about because she compared herself to Sasha and Marcy, which wasn't fair to anyone involved. Did she really want to fundamentally change parts of her body because of insecurities she developed last week over a book about lemurs? Then, a second set of fears come in: what will happen when she goes back to her place of origin? Because she does want to find her birth family. Will they recognize her, if they're looking for a boy? Will they think she's lying if she claims to be their daughter? If she changes only a few things but doesn't "go all the way", will people there think she's a freak? Will she ever be able to fit in with those of her species?
Does she really care so much about what other people think? She just wants to be herself. Some of the changes she's been going through are making her feel less like herself and more like she's being turned into a tax collector from Toad Tower. Those things have to go - her voice, for example. And she wants a more femenine silhouette (she may or may not show Maddie photos of young Mrs. Croaker as a reference). She wants a softer face. She's seeing her face changing in the mirror and she doesn't like it. She wants it to stay round and soft, not to grow hard and sharp or big and rough. She's not so sure she wants those "mammary glands". It's not like she ever thought about having kids, and the whole "breastfeeding" thing just seems gross, but after her research, and finding out she could have kids with, I don't know, maybe Marcy one day (a thought that makes her blush), she thinks it may be a good idea. She'll consider it. Maybe later. Her genitalia... well, she's used to what she has now. It already took her like 10 years to fully figure out what it was and how it worked and starting over with a whole new set just feels like too much work (also, the babies, the potential babies with Marcy). Frogs and toads have neither "penises" or "vaginas" so there's not a lot of information, and based on books about lemurs and her own empirical experience, comparing herself to other mammalian species isn't too useful. She'll leave it the way it is. She'll see if there's anything else she wants to change later, or if she wants to go back on something.
Marcy is surprised next time Anne visits Newtopia. In her letters, she described this strange transformation in excruciating detail, but seeing her in person now, holding her face in her hands, all she sees is the same Anne she's always loved.
A few more ideas:
HEADCANON: in Amphibia, two people of the same "s.ex" can reproduce through magic, which means there has to be a concious effort and intent. The external fertilization process there's no such thing as a pregnancy, and there's no such thing as s.ex. All reproduction is intentional, which means there's no need for abortion either. There are processes to destroy fertilized eggs and embryos, but they look completely different from human abortions.
Amphibians may perform acts resembling s.ex for pleasure or fun but they look different from human s.ex and have no relation to reproduction.
Andrias is the only person in Amphibia who knows enough about humans to know how they reproduce (a process he finds repulsive). He never tells Marcy, of course, though once she becomes queen, she finds his secret library and his hidden tomes on "alien biology", some of which talk about humans. He's also the only one who knows humans can have children on accident, and that Anne is the only human in Amphibia who could cause something like that to happen (he reads all of Marcy's correspondence). He knows his daughter is very close to this weird farm girl penpal of hers, and even though she's still a child, he worries for her future and the future of the crown. This new discovery could land the crown in the hands of a dynasty of aliens if he's not careful. Is it weird that he spends so much time worrying about his 12yo daughter getting pregnant from another 12yo? Yes, yes it is, but he already controls every aspect of her life, it's not like he's going to stop at her sexuality, future, real, or imaginary.
Man now that I wrote it all down, I think this option is more compelling than the first. Maybe I WILL go with this one.
#amphibia#raised in amphibia au#anne boonchuy#marcanne#trans anne boonchuy#my posts#btw i'm very cis so i want to apologize if I said anything weird. since anne here grew up in a world so different from us#i imagine the ''trans experience'' as one of the only humans in frog world must be very different from the irl ''trans experience''#so I kept it mostly personal and thinking about what would make sense in her situation#for example. we know she finds boys pretty gross and likes more girly things#so the idea of ''turning into a boy'' as she hits puberty must make her feel gross#but i'm worried that describing how i imagine the perspective of this specific characters in her very specific situation#will come across as me saying ''oh being amab is gross and disgusting and icky'' which is NOT what I want to imply#do i think this anne may feel that way about herself considering she's never met another trans person in her life (except for this Hop Pop#but it's been so long since his transition he kinda forgot about it and doesn't bring it up)#?? yes. i think her first impulse would be to feel like that#because it comes from a place of ''This Does NOT reflect me. in fact it reflects everything I hate''#aaaah i hope i'm not messing up here. i'm open to criticism btw if anyone thinks this doesn't work i'd love to hear corrections#also re: the reproduction and period talk. i hope no one is too grossed out by that. i just thought it'd make sense#like it'd make sense for andrias to worry about that#also i just find the idea funny like. amphibians don't f.uck. copulation is for gross mammals. which means they probably find mammalian#reproductive organs particularly disgusting#which probably makes the girls feel... bad 😭
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Happy New Year, everyone!!!
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/eec26e03be4b66e9b399a49889f2d056/993e6890ef3bfe12-bc/s640x960/e3a839247a1830a891c68cdb61238443226e0548.jpg)
The prettiest princess
#I referenced his outfit in the episode Officers Only#mash#maxwell klinger#corporal klinger#my art#traditional art#His eyes are a bit too close together but I didn't notice until after I edited it and uploaded the photo here :(#I know the drawing is in black and white but sorry about him looking so white.#I messed with the exposure and brightness too much to get the lines to pop.#Anyway I've reached season 11 and am not looking forward to finishing the series. I need more seasons.#I've been rewatching episodes since I'd reached season 4 but finishing the series will make it feel different#I'm going to drag this season on as long as I can.#I watched s11e4 last night and didn't really enjoy it though bc it felt really undeserved and like a prank they'd usually pull on Frank#I really hope the next few episodes aren't like that but the jokes these past few seasons haven't felt very funny.#Especially the ones where everyone berates Klinger only to turn around and say how important he is.#I feel I've said too much on this post. My apologies to whoever read through all of my thoughts.
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we should stop getting sequels and "what if"s because if atIus made some stupid story expansion spinoff about adachis jail life then everyone's gonna start shipping him with his warden
#kommento#// I was writing and had a terrible terrible thought. oh well lalalalala 7k etc etc#// I wouldn't mind spinoffs actually and I'd really appreciate voice dramas or novels maybe bevause it'd be cool#// 'why the warden and not the other inmates' everyone would hate his stupid bald head#// and his snark with the guy on the other side of the bars would make deranged people think he was flirting with him#// he'll say shit like 'from here it's like you're the one behind bars' and some ao3 tag pops up out of the ether
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how is everyone's saturday going?
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📱😪
#well glad i finally stopped overthinking for three days and sent the damn text#i get if things are super hectic with work and everything immediate i do--but if we've still been feeling each other we'd still find a way#to connect?#i thought dinner with him went well a few weeks back--and would've gone better at mine if not for shitty super (big stressor) halfassing a#roof leak repair job in his closet making him have to go handle that after it rained a little during dinner#but we kissed goodbye saying we'd hang labor day and i told him to text me once home or about how the leak goes and he never did#but okay things were stressy and he forgot no worries#labor day came and i followed up day of not having heard from him and did an afternoon in the park after not hearing back#he apologized the next day saying he was going through a lot and i understood and said i'd still like to help take his mind off things--nada#he works weekends so i sent him a doggo video on IG to help some and checked in the next Monday asking if we did still want to hang again#and that i'd missed him--he apologized last Tuesday saying work was chaos and that he was two-weeksing his part time job#i understood and asked what he planned on doing from there to have us talking--nothing#but he did see the doggo video finally and said 'thanks for the doggo c:'#i did also have a free evening on thurs from a day off with mom so i low-presh said 'hey if you wanna hang?' and nothing#last thing was i asked on Sunday how his week was going and nothing#what confused me is that through all this he would still pop into my IG stories and like things which makes me think 'interest'#but i'd low-pressure like or comment a thing on his and i wouldnt get anything#and also still kinda seeing him on the site we met on with a guy leaving him a bj review a few weeks ago... which#it's fine it's been two dates so sure--but i'm also v much wanting to do things with him too and i'm kinda right there??#so all this to say that i felt like i had to just see if we are doing okay given it's been hard to tell#...but i did so much overthinking on how to phrase it the past 2-3 days before finally sending it#saying that if we are i'd like us to connect a bit more and that maybe Snapchat could help with that#[we probably should've traded SCs already 🥲]#anyway we'll see how that goes but idk as much as i've liked our chemistry i kinda feel like--to quote The Drums' 626 Bedford Ave--#i dont get near what i've been givin'#(space considerations for the hecticness aside ofc#so if we can communicate a bit better that'd be nice but could also gear toward an end so we'll see with the ball in his court#anyway thanks for reading that pre-bed vent#you're now imagining a corgi about to go paddling on a boat as a treat :)#🥱
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dni.
#i don't know how people who do not have siblings live cause#whenever i feel the very intense and real urge to genuinely kms their faces pop up in my head#my sister laughing at my jokes after she had a bad day and saying with tears in her eyes that hey you know what i need you so much please#call me constantly when im abroad i don't know what I'd do without you#and my little brother not trusting my parents advice when he is sick because he thinks they're constantly telling him to do a hundred thing#anyway but listening to me when im giving the exact same advice asking me such innocent questions that seem so obvious#but he doesn't know because of his childlike innocence#like why are we not going to the doctor if i have fever how do our parents know how to cure it and how can i take dolo without a doctors#prescription and me laughing and explaining that it's okay it's normal it's paracetamol you don't have to worry you'll be okay in day or 2#or how he's excitedly telling me that these are the colleges i looked up are they good how do you know if they're good#he needs me so much even tho he'd never say it they've been even worse parents to him than to me he doesn't have anyone else#so then how could i be so selfish and hurt the two people who love and need me the most the two people on whom if i see tears#it feels like a stab directly to the heart?#but i can't help it. can't help fantasizing about dying#maybe myself but even better if by some terminal illness#i keep thinking me lying in a hospital bed and doctors saying there's a complicated procedure and it's very expensive and results aren't#even guaranteed so are you sure want to be treated#and me saying no please let me die my parents would protest at first they would feel it is their duty responsibility to keep me alive#but id say please i don't have anything to live for and i just CAN'T i can't do this i can't live this life it's too difficult im not#capable im already failing please just let me give up and then they'd agree#and then i would tell my father that im sorry i couldn't pay you back for all the money you spent on me my education my living expenses#but atleast now i won't ask for anymore money from you ever you'll probably get some money from the insurance policies#and i would tell my mom that sorry for being such a burden on you all these years but now you can finally be free with the 2 kids you#actually love and you never have to cook for me again or fold my clothes or feel bad that i won't attend your family functions#and i would tell my siblings that i know it's sad but please i know you guys are strong and bright and you're gonna be very happy and#successful and that's enough for me im sorry we couldn't have our dream raksha bandhan away from our parents but you can carry on without#me and ill always love you. and that would be it.#i know it's wrong to fantasize so much about dying and ive read somewhere that they may just seem like thoughts now but if left untreated#one day you're gonna have a bad day and you're gonna find the perfect opportunity and you were so sure you were never going to do it but#then you do. but i don't know how to stop
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the struggles of today proved to me that i might indeed be a little mentally unwell
#not enough to go to therapy but at least now i know what i should work on#correct me if i'm wrong but most people probably don't start to feel suicidal if there's like. a problem at work#i've been asked to support the back office and help with managing cases which is okay i guess. but i'm not a support team person so#i don't know how to do a lot of things despite using the learning resources provided by the workplace#and this one case i'm handling was rather easy on the surface. no info in sys so parcel can't move forward. ask origin to release data. eas#but then origin says that they can't because they get an error message when putting in receiver's acc number. ruh roh#if origin can't release data no one can. i've asked them to handle it with IT but had no response. in the meantime the other involved CS#started getting involved and now a production in a factory is stopped. and i know it's not my fault but i could've done better#acted faster. thought smarter. and i hate this kind of responsibility. and that i care too much#i've cried so much today i'm so tired. from the stress of this task i've been given and because of the IT issues popping in all the time no#i logged into work 45 minutes late because the VPN i've been using shit itself and i had to get a backup one#i should've gotten it installed ages ago but nooo let's do that laterrrrr you definitely won't regret that#i hate having to put up with this bitch (me) .#another thing is. it's currently summer vacation season so i'll have to brace myself for more support work to come. it's probably gonna go#just as bad if not worse. i'm so not cut out for this. i'll have to ask my boss if he can move me to a different service#so i can have an excuse like sorry i can't help i'm no longer associated with tnt~#but that's gonna have to wait until he;s back from his vacation in august . oh well#also all this stress might result in me getting something akin to an ED#my stress response other than crying and shaking is not feeling hunger. i ate something substantial at 5pm and had breakfast at 6am#between that i had two small pieces of candy and water#i'm already bad at feeding myself or at the very least eating nutritious food . this could make me worse#“oh but kav everyone makes mistakes and it's important to learn from them! keep fighting!” bitch i don't want to i didn't sign up for this#if i wanted to work for Support Team i'd have applied there. i did not wish to get involved with them and their work#sorry i needed to get this out of my system. i'll probably complain to some irls too but i might be able to do that without crying now#laments#<- i think this is going to be my vent tag
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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
#🐚*—my works#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando norris one shot#f1 fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fics#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#lando imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine
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WHAT WE DO IN THE TOILET
Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Fem!Reader
Summery: what if you stumbled upon your fucking ex boyfriend in a squid game toilet?
Triggers: SMUT, oral (both receiving), fingering, a bit of a dirty talk
A/N: first squid game smut, second smut fic in almost 10 years from me 🫡 English is not my native, so please, bear with it if you find a mistake, cause I'd die from embarrassment
A/N #2: dialogue formatted like this said by Thanos in English
Word count: 4k
Once you gave yourself a word that you will never meet him again in your life. You'd been trying to support him through his, not to say the list, pretty feeble rapping career, keeping him hyped up when his new tracks didn't hit the numbers he hoped for yet again. It was before he started investing his money into the crypt. You were the first one to say that this cryptocurrency shit was definitely a scum, but Su-Bong couldn't care less to listen, he had too much fun getting the first money back, doubled in number.
"This is all scum, Su!.." you once rattled at him, seeing Su-Bong changing yet another thousands of won to that crypto shit.
"We're gonna be fucking rich can't you see, señorita???" He grabbed the multicolored cash in his hands, throwing the money up in the air like a confetti. "I'm gonna win this life, baby!"
You only rolled your eyes at him, grabbing one 5000 won bill and making your way out of the room. "I'll look at your dumb ass when you invest all of your stupid money in this and they'll fuck you up, señor."
Now, you wandered how low did he fall to appear in this fucking shit hole. How many layers of buttom did his smoked, stoned ass broke to land on that pile of cow shit. How much debts did he have now? Definitely more than you, but how much more? Though after hearing some players' debts, you thought of your own to be a mild inconvenience.
You saw his head popping out from the crowd, the tallest guy in the group, as he always has been, with his head glowing purple in the dull green room. Thanos. You only prayed for him to not notice you, cause above all else, you would not stress his pathetically comical attempts into being not only a rapper, that you've already learned to stomach, but a comedian.
You were led out of the room, up and up and up by the pink strais that looked as if it have been snatched straight out of the psych test picture. Once you were high enough, you were instructed to go though the huge, massive doors leading to the open playground.
You saw him clinging to the pretty girl immediately after all of the players entered the playground, it didn't really sting, but it tugged on something buried deep down beneath the layers of indifference you've grown throughout the last year and the half.
"Hey, señorita."
You turned your head instinctively on the word. It was your word. You didn't know why, but when Su-Bong called that random girl señorita, you felt that string snapping inside you, that definitely did sting. It stinged even more, when you saw Su-Bong getting all turned on when the girl sent him off, rolling her eyes in a sheer annoyance.
Fuck him. Fuck him. FUCK HIM
You shouldn't have felt anything. Not for him, not after all of this hardships of getting him off of your mind after you two broke up.
Somehow, the thoughts of your past relationships overstaffed your head, you were running and ceasing on autopilot while you brain suffered the memories of you and Su-Bong having the time of your lives.
You didn't register how you crossed the finish line, slithering further away from the doll through the panicking players right until you felt two big heavy palm on your shoulders. The heaviness that was too familiar, and the fingers that clawed your bones with such familiarity you haven't felt for far too long.
"Babe!" The loud shriek Su-Bong forced to come out sent shivers down your body. When you looked up at him, his face was gleaming as he was laughing and studying you head to toes. "My fucking Nebula baby is here, like damn bro we're gonna be unstoppable!"
"Don't fucking call me that..." You shook his hands off you, turning on the tips of your boots, trying to get closer to the pink soldiers standing next to the doors.
"Babe, don't you want to ask me how I've been?" Purplehead grabbed you by the wrist, motioning you to swirl back to face him once more. He bent untill he somewhat leveled to your height, his face perfectly positioned in front of yours, eyes on the same level. You hated to admit that he still was as handsome as you remembered, face so fuckable the only look at it made your stomach swirling.
"What point in asking if you're here?" You tried to maintain the annoyance, but felt your voice cracking just fairly a bit, which was enough to catch a sardonic smile on Su-Bong's face, right before the words settled in his head and his face tensed with thinking.
The metal dome covered the sunlight and the pink soldiers opened the doors, making all of the remaining players to walk back to the main room, dumbfounded. Some rat looking guy snatched Thanos from your side and walked him to their beds once you entered the room. Thank you, you thought, sighting out in relief.
From your bed you saw Su-Bong and this guy from across the room. The rat guy pointed in your direction vaguely, and Su-Bong almost punched him, you could read his expression saying "shut the fuck up, man". You spent a few more minutes staring mindlessly into Thanos' direction, not exactly registering what was going on in the room, but at once you thought that the effect of the pill he swallowed during the game wore off, the comic bravado wanished from Su-Bong's face as he stared equally mindlessly into the emptiness in front of him.
After the voting you all had a little meal prepared, it felt all too close to your heart with the school like lunch, as if they tried to put you all at ease. You saw Su-Bong starting a fight with that damn Coin man, the one you knew from Su-Bong's crypto problems, but it didn't take much time before the player 001 beat the shit out of him for interrupting the meal time.
You didn't quite recognize your own feelings seeing Su-Bong lying on the floor half dead as the man was having him in a chokehold, Thanos whimpering and squirming under him. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting in some manic rushing tide, but when the man finally stood up and you saw Su-Bong's face, corrupted with both fear and anger you suddenly felt pity for him. How miserable of you.
The night crippled in, but the slumber decided not to show you any signs of life. To be fair, you could find at least twenty more people who couldn't sleep that night, and well, you had more questions for those who could.
You jumped down from your bed and slowly walked towards the bathroom. It was when you have done all of your things and was splashing your face with the spring cold water you heard some muted grumbling over the wall.
"Fuck man, c'mon!"
You creeped out of the female toilet room, tiptoing to the male one, hearing the grumbles more clearly, as well as the slapping sounds. You opened the door only for a few inches, when you saw Thanos standing in front of the mirror with his pants lowered to his knees, trying to jerk off.
"Stupid fucking shit, just fucking work!" His low voice was on the verge of growling, he never looked as pathetic and lost as now, standing half naked, trying to bone his dick up. Having sex, or at the very least jerking off, was his second to favorite activity to relieve the stress. The first one was getting high as fuck.
"Stressful day, huh?" He jerked his head into your direction seeing you leaning on the doorframe, smile completely roasting him.
He gulped, looking at you, detecting your gaze that was focused on his slumber dick in his hand.
"My señorita, do you want to help?" The desperation and anger in his voice washed away as soon as he saw your mocking face. He he let go of his dick and took a step forward to you, shaking his legs in the air to free them from the pants. "You always knew how to get it going, my fucking love."
He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer untill your body was pressed fully to his, then he unclasped his palm and put one of his hands on the crook of your back, lowering it untill he was able to grab your ass cheek and squeeze it.
"Why should I?" You didn't move away, nor did you shake his hand off your ass, but you also moved your face to the side when he tried to kiss you. "There's a nice, pretty guy in that room, I'd rather fuck him."
You knew that stupid cunt had a rejection kink. The seconds you said those words you felt his dick starting hardening, pressing against your inner thigh.
Su-Bong chuckled lowly, his voice vibrating through your skin as his lips were in mere inches from your ear. "Cause you still fucking love me." He squeezed your ass harder, pressing you flat into his groin. "You know none of these suckers can outdone me in fucking, right? I'm a fucking hump legend."
Too miserably for you, he fucking was. You never met someone who fucked your better than Thanos did, especially when he was under the influence of his stupid pills. You hated it, the pills, but loved the ferocity with which he thrusted into you or eated you out untill he could feel your soul on his tounge when he was on the pills.
"C'mon, my señorita, I want you so bad, just suck my fucking dick, please."
You didn't even know why, but you gave in. Maybe because you didn't know if any of you would live to see another day, or cause you knew he had his pill again and the mere thought of what he could do to you made you shiver. Or maybe because his dick was already hard enough it could leave a bruise on your thigh if you had kept staying still like this for another minute.
You slithered your hand down between your bodies, finding his dick pressed to your leg, and carefully wrapped your fingers around it. Making just a few tugs, your ear felt arousingly hot from Su-Bong's slow breathing. When he got too comfortable with you jerking him off, you relocated your hand further down his shaft, barely touching his balls, as you lifted up on your tiptoes, brushing his ear with your lips.
"If I hear you calling other bitches señoritas, I'm gonna kill you myself." You heard him mewl pathetically into your shoulder as you squeezed your fingers around his balls, practically digging into them with your nails till Thanos hissed and digged his fingers into your ass cheek in return, surely leaving some nicely framed bruises on your skin.
"You gave this name to me," you pulled your hand with his balls in it to the side slightly, stretching the tender skin almost painfuy, winning the muffled whimper from Su-Bong, as he sucked hectically on your neck. "it's fucking mine to bear."
"Done, baby, you won't hear it." He wheezed into your shoulder bucking up his dick against your thigh. You laughed, the sound was barely a whisper tickling Su-Bong's ear, but boy did it make him shiver, biting the skin on your shoulder?
"Atta boy." You bit his earlobe and let go off his balls, hearing him growling into you as his balls got back to their rightful place.
Finally for him, your tore your body off his, feeling the stinging warmth where his fingers were nailed into your ass even after you tore his hand off it, and kneeled down, finding the eye contact with Thanos before even getting close to his dick. His eyes were reminding you of boba balls, just a huge black circles amidst the white eyeballs, he was so high on his pills it drew you crazy and made you feel wet between your legs.
"Make me cum, my señorita." Once you sat down on your knees, Thanos placed his hand on your head, sliding it down to your cheek and finally your chin, leaving the trail of goosebumps on your skin as he went.
You touched his dick with your finger, pressing it up to his belly and got closer to the shaft. Su-Bong saw your tounge swirling inside your mouth, and when you stuck it out completely soaked in saliva, he squeezed your chin with his fingers, tugging your face closer untill he felt the watery tip of your tongue touching the base of his dick and shivered, snickering lowly.
You pressed your tongue flat to his very base starting to slide your way up to the very tip of it, slowly and tormenting, hearing Thanos grunting though his teeth, his hand moving back to your nape, controlling your every move.
You were sliding up and down, rolling to the tip of your tongue and touching Thanos's dick just so lightly it sent waves of shivers down his body, and then rolling it back flat, polishing his shaft with your tongue.
"I missed that so much." Through the muffled whimpering Su-Bong almost moaned, tugging on your nape to make you lick him higher. "No one's sucking the way you do, babe, my fucking slut queen."
You couldn't still the smile forcing on your face. That one thing keeping the bond between you two - you both were each other's best fuckers. And that was such a huge problem. That wasn't something that's easy to get off your mind. Every man you had after Su-Bong was intrusively compared to him while being in you, and let's be honest, none of them had the high ground. Every time you were fucking someone, at some point your head started getting clouded. Su-Bong would have already made me cum twice.
And without wandering, you knew this sucker had the same problem having every single girl compared to you.
"You'll make me cum yes?" Thanos placed his free hand on your finger that was pressing his dick to his stomach and pulled it off, making his dick fall, bouncing up and down right next to your lips. "I'll pay you back, you won't be disappointed."
You knew you wouldn't. You were sitting on your knees, thighs squeezed together in an attempt to stop your lube running down as you looked up at Su-Bong, his wide stoned pupils studying every inch of your body, lips framed in a manic smile and purple hair catching the light of the lightbulbs sent another wave of swirling down your stomach. The things he would do to you...
You wrapped your palm around his shaft, directioning the tip of his dick into your mouth and started circling it with the tip of your tongue, barely touching it. You made a few circles clockwise, a few counterclockwise, you licked it up and down and left and right, hearing Thanos' breath became loose and rapid. While you were circling his head slowly, your hands were working up and down his shaft.
"I've dreamt about thi- fuck-..." He muttered, his hand jerked automatically, sticking you on his dick deeper. Thanos didn't give you the time to adjust, starting shoving his dick down your mouth, deep into the warm tender mouth of yours, feeling your tongue sliding flat on his shaft until he felt the tip of his dick pressing into the back of your throat, you gagging, spasming over his shaft, only making Thanos moan gutturally, watching your head bob a little with a rythm he controlled. "My fucking sweet paradise. Fu-uuck!"
You felt his precum sliding down your throat, almost tickling making your insides jolt, as you started loosing your breath. The bolt of panic shattered though your chest as you started gagging without any air in your lungs, but, at this point, your desire to finish Thanos dry made you collect yourself. You started breathing though your nose, letting him guide your head in a timing that was perfect for him. You would make him cum and he would eat you out afterwards.
You felt his finish was close enough, so you grabbed his balls again, squeezing them gently, tickling and caressing them with your fingers, feeling them hardening under your touch and his dick trembling in your mouth as Thanos let the guttural moan into the air, his dick spurting semen into your mouth, nearly choking you.
"My señorita." He took his dick out of your mouth, tilting your chin up to look up at him, wiping with his finger the mix of his own cum and your drool that was soaking through the corners of your lips. "That was so fucking hot"
The way you swallowed Thanos' seed maintaining the eye contact visibly brought shivers on him, it awakened something animalistic in him as he pulled you up by the chin untill you stood up firmly and kissed you, ravaging your mouth completely. His tongue wasn't waiting for invitation, he slide it between your lips and you opened your mouth instinctively, feeling how his tongue slid deeper into your mouth over your own. At this point, you could only whimper into his mouth, thighs pressed to each other in order to find at least a bit of satisfaction.
"Fuck!"
Your kiss was interrupted by the two voices down the hall, two male voices that were creeping closer to the toilet.
"Fuck babe!" Thanos rattled, grabbing you by your pants and tugging into the closest stall, closing the doors behind you shut. The adrenaline got into him, his pupils, thought you thought it's impossible, got even bigger, as he untied the laces on your pants and tugged I'd down, along with the panties. He bent just a bit, to be able to press his lips to the side of your face and whisper gravely, "you thought it's gonna stop me?" His hand slid down your body, forcing you to open your legs. "Fuck no."
And you felt two of his digits sliding into you roughly. He didn't give you a chance to gather your scattered thoughts together, or adjust to his fingers, when he curled them, one at a time, shoving then up your cunt.
Thanos growled softly into your ear, you didn't even grasp what was the reason of your airy moan - his fingers or his voice, vibrating though your skin, but with two people outside your stall you did your best to still your vocals, only letting the little weep escape your lips and then shutting them together in panic.
"Good fuck, good day, huh?" His voice sent goosebumps running down all over your body, making you squeeze your thighs around his hand, your hips volunteerly moving down on his fingers.
"Okay, children's games, done" Thanos said, suddenly making your cunt uncomfortably empty, greening down on you, his body, towering high over yours squeezed the little whimper out of you which you bit down, almost bloodying your lip. "Want it?" He snickered jittery before bringing his soaked fingers to your lips, sliding them lightly on your bottom. You lips fell open as on a command, but as soon as you craned your neck forward to embrace his digits with the warm hug of your lips, Thanos yanked his hand back, his fingers in his mouth now and sucked them viciously, testing you before sliding down to his knees.
For a second, you forgot about all the people in the toilet and slammed the wall of the stall with your flat palm, trying to redirect your frustration and agony out of your mouth to your hand, while Thanos was sliding his hands up your inner thighs, spreading them without any effort. He pressed his face to your pubic area and breathed you in vigorously before sighing out.
The proximity of his face to your cunt sent a tugging pulsation through your body, making you squirm on your toes, hips bucking up. You want to face fuck him untill his mad soaked in your cum, just as in old good times.
In a second, you put your free hand on his head, fingers threading through his purple hair. You tugged on his nape, angling his head up untill his chin was on your puffed, soaking wet folds, and you moaned though the bitten down lips.
"That's so fucking beautiful." He said as he lowered his head, sliding down your folds with his chin and slurped you for the all the miserable desires you had. He eated you vigorously, the sound of him sucking your lube messy, letting his drool drip down your thighs mixed with your wetness turned you dazzlingly dizzy. Thanos was rubbing his tongue flat up and down your clit, pulling it in and out of your tight hole, your walls clenching hectically desiring something more. Something bigger that just a tongue. It wrecked your insides. It warmed up your cunt and made you even wetter, and you tugged on Thanos' hair to tear him off you just to see how wet his face was, covered in your slime.
"Fuck..." Was the only thing you could moaned out, looking at his absolutely deranged smile and his tounge framing his glossy lips. Thanos' eyes were nothing but pupils, two black buttomless holes staring back at you with manic desire, the previously dried blood on his cheek got soggy again and was smeared all over his jaw. Damn, that stupid señorita girl from before died in from of him and now you fucked your man with her blood on his face and for fuck's sake that almost turned your insides upside down.
Thanos wrapped his palms around your wrist and freed his hair from your grasp, pressing your hands to the wall on the both sides of you. "Let me finish my meal, babe."
He fell back into your cunt, licking you dry and biting you clit just enough for it to teeter on a slightly painful side, making you wriggle, your ass catching on a wooden wall of the stall.
"Su-.." You caught your breath as a heat wave slammed down at your nether regions, curling your toes and fingers as Thanos kept slurping the juices your body rewarded him with for his work. "-Bong..." His name finally left your lips as you collapsed on his face, your feet too weak to hold your body up.
You barely registered how he snickered, one sound on his lips - lust. He pressed his lips back to your folds and slurped all of your cum at once, his tongue circling around your cunt gathering the juice.
"My señorita..." Thanos put his hands under your quivering thighs as his head appeared in front of yours. He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself from his tongue, salty and sweet. "I told you I'll pay you back."
He sat you down on a toilet, opening the door slightly enough to check if anyone was still there. No one.
"We live another day, babe, and I shove it up your cunt." Thanos looked at you, cupping his dick in his hand and smiling like a demented junkie he was. "Let's go, you first."
You tugged on your panties and pants, action was rather challenging with your whole body still trembling from your climax, and popped your head out of the stall. The path was clear. Walking out of the stall you threw the pants Su-Bong left laying on the floor under the sinks to him and was about to left the room, when he wrapped his hand around your waist, slamming your body into his. "Please, babe, don't die, cause I'll need it again." Su-Bong murmured into your ear before leaving a wet kiss on your neck.
You trotted back to your bed, people were still mostly sleeping. Barely making your way up, climbing the ladder to your bed, you sat, knees pressed to your chest, and watched Thanos walking jauntily across the dormitory. His fucking cheeky ass would absolutely run his mouth to his new friend when he wakes up, no chances Thanos would keep his tongue behind his teeth about having the blowjob of his life.
You clenched your jaw on the thought of it, but, ugh. That would be a problem for the future you. Now, you had to fall asleep with the warm pleasure between your thighs, praying for Su-Bong's name not to slip out of your lips in a dream.
Tags: @verdantsecretgardens @wintaemoonjen
#hooray to everyone who get 'what we do in the shadows' thing in the name of the fic lmao#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#choi su bong smut#thanos smut#squid game thanos x reader#squid game thanos#squid game x reader#squid game smut#squid game 2#squid game season 2#x reader#x reader smut#i need him to wreck me so f bad#just please 🥵🥵🥵🥵
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yandere! hitman and hitman reader who are always at each other's throats, trying to kill one another.
somehow, someway, he's fallen for you. must be because of how often he's in contact with you, trying to kill you and claim the bounty over your head. or maybe it's the way you're able to keep up with him, to evade all his kill attempts despite him being one of the best hitmen in the country.
maybe it's the way you're simply... perfect.
so when your bounty suddenly raises a whole bunch, and a whole army of other hitmen get sent to kill you... he's a little more than just pissed.
"only i get to kill you."
he hisses, clearing the wave of people effortlessly as he makes his way over to you. he's angry. really angry. so angry that he doesn't even take a second look before killing someone. no one shall stand in between him and his beloved target after all.
he spots you on the ground, panting and heaving. god, there's his baby. all injured and on display for him. he can't name a more beautiful sight than this.
"fuck, you're so beautiful like this."
the hitman spits, gripping your cheeks painfully tight. a smirk crosses his face, your blood dripping down his fingers. he pulls away, licking at the tangy liquid before connecting his lips with yours.
the kiss is hot, needy. he doesn't even give you a chance to breathe before he's slapping you across the face, the heel of his boot stepping you on your ribs.
"should i just kill you now, huh? bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? kill you and get your bounty, kill this disgusting feeling in my chest."
but he pauses, eyes narrowing at the sight of your bruised and tattered body. a sharp pain shoots through him and he falls to the ground, clutching at his chest.
"fuck! ugh..."
"h-haha... you'd think... I'd die without bringing you down with me?"
an invisible string connects to your fingers and it all clicks in his mind. sneaky little thing, he scoffs. of course you'd pull a trick like that. it's so like you.
"you think that'll work on me?"
"no... but... it'll curse you... probably..."
he barks out a laugh, pulling the string away from his torso. his hands brush his chest, swatting away all the invisible dirt that got onto him from the fall.
"you're so stupid."
and then an ingenious idea pops into his mind. why hadn't he thought of this before? it's just... so fucking brilliant!
"say, what if i keep you instead?"
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#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#yandere hitman#yandere hitman x reader#gn reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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Spoiled - A.H
a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did
think im ovulating or something YALL IDK
anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ��˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it
warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!
wc: 3.3k
"Penelope Grace Garcia!"
Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.
"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."
"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.
You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear.
"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."
Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen.
"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."
"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.
"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.
You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.
"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."
"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly.
The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."
Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.
Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.
He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.
The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.
The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest.
The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.
"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.
He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.
You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.
Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.
"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."
His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.
"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."
You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped.
Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.
"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."
You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily.
After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.
"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.
You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.
"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand.
A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.
"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip.
You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.
"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.
He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down.
"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."
"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."
There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all.
You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.
You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.
With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.
A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.
But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny.
You went back to your phone.
Hi
The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.
"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.
You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"
His response is quick. "You could never bother me."
A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.
"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"
"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."
You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.
"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."
"You know."
You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.
"I don't know, sweetheart."
Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.
"Where are you?"
"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"
Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."
"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."
Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.
"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."
"Yes, it's for you, baby."
You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.
"Why?"
His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud.
"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.
You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.
"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.
You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter. It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.
"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"
"Yeah."
You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."
"Aaron..."
He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"
Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.
You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."
Wow you're sure you fooled him.
"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."
A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip.
"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.
"Where, sweetheart?"
You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.
"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.
He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.
"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."
Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.
"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."
"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."
You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"There you go, that's my girl."
You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.
"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"
You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.
"Okay."
It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.
His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.
But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.
"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.
"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."
"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.
You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.
It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?
"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.
"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."
"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"
You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.
"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."
You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.
The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.
"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."
Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.
"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood.
"Go ahead, sweetheart."
That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.
You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.
"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."
You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.
"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.
"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."
He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side.
"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."
His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."
"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"
"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#criminal minds smut#hotch smut#hotchner#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fic#Spotify
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silk ribbons and scraps of lace
pairing: f1 grid x reader [headcanon]
ft. lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, george russell
summary: your man loves it when you wear some lingerie, but what happens when you're not exactly wearing the right colours...
warnings: very suggestive AND 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> sexual foreplay, fingering
wc: 3860
[masterlist] [requests]
lewis
[you're wearing red bull lingerie]
lewis stepped out of the steamy bathroom, his chiselled physique glistening with water as he wrapped a plush towel around his waist. he froze mid-step when his gaze fell upon you, curves barely contained within a provocative red bull lingerie set. the azure fabric clung to your every dip and swell, highlighting your breasts and the tantalising v of your hips.
a look of shock crossed lewis' handsome face, his dark brows knitting together in disbelief. "what...the fuck?" he sputtered, clearly taken aback by this unexpected sight. his eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the erotic display before him. the driver's initial confusion slowly gave way to a growing arousal, his cock beginning to stiffen beneath the towel.
"i thought we agreed on mercedes branding only," he frowned, pressing slowly towards your waiting body on the bed. you giggled at his reaction, "oh come on, don’t be such a spoilsport! it’s just a little fun," you leaned closer, one hand pressing harshly against the quilt as you reach up to playfully tug at the towel draped low on his hips
"besides, i like how the blue really makes my skin pop" you say with a wink, letting your fingers graze the hardening bulge straining against the towel.
you spun around, your ass presented like a feast for his eyes. the thong leaving little to the imagination as you arch your spine, running hands down the side to cup your ass cheeks, "what do you think, babe? does it make me look good enough to ride on your mercedes?" you smirk.
a deep, rumbling chuckle escaped lewis' lips as he watched your playful antics; he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the tiny thong. the blue fabric seemed to glow against your skin, drawing attention to the tantalising curve of your ass. "you're certainly making a case for it," lewis murmured, his voice low and husky with lust. he allowed you to tug the towel free, letting it drop to the floor as his eyes devoured the sight of you nearly naked body.
“disappointed it’s not ferrari?” you laugh, watching him reaching for the thong before snapping it harshly back against your skin. moaning, his gaze remained fixed on you, drinking in the sight of your legs and the delicate lace of your bra
he reached out, his calloused fingertips tracing the edge of the red bull logo emblazoned across your chest. "i suppose we could make an exception, just this once," he purred, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak of your breast, making you gasp.
lewis leaned in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "after all, i'd hate to deny my girl the chance to show off her assets."
max
[you're wearing aston martin lingerie]
max had fumbled carelessly with the hotel keycard in the final hours of the night as he returned, but he was more alert than ever at the sight before him - you, his girlfriend, clad in provocative aston martin lingerie, sprawled seductively across the king-sized bed. the green ensemble hugged your curves like a second skin, emblazoned with metallic black stripes. a matching diamond choker encircled your neck, while thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels added an air of submission to your already alluring presence.
max's eyes widened, his initial unwariness swiftly replaced by arousal as he took in the stunning view. "what...what is this?" he asked, his deep voice laced with a mix of surprise and desire.
you smiled coyly, running a hand along the sleek fabric of the bodice, "just getting into the spirit of things, darling," you purred, slowly sliding off the bed to crawl towards him. your hips swayed hypnotically with each step, the lingerie clinging to every dip and curve.
max's gaze was transfixed, following the movement of your body, mesmerised. his breath quickened, and he felt his cock stir to life beneath the pants he had worn out to the restaurant with checo and other red bull personnel.
"i thought we could play a little game before bed," you continued, reaching out to trail a finger down his chest. "winner gets to choose the dessert later.” your touch sent shivers through him, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. "and what exactly is this game?" he asked, his voice husky with growing need.
you grinned up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, “one match of cod, then you can rip off the aston martin. otherwise i wear aston martin gear for fernando next race. he is my favourite driver after all,”
max's competitive nature flared to life at the challenge. "fine, let's do it," he agreed, a determined glint in his eye. "but i'm warning you, i'm not going easy just because you're looking sexy as hell."
as the familiar sounds of the game filled the room, you dove into the match, fingers flying across keyboards. sweat began to bead on max's brow, less from exertion than from the sheer eroticism of the situation. every so often, his gaze would drift to the tantalising display of flesh barely contained by your aston martin lingerie, making his pulse race and his resolve waver.
meanwhile, you remained focused, though you couldn't help but notice the growing bulge in max's pants as the minutes ticked by, “having problems there maxie boo?” you teased, leaning over to circle a finger over his zipper. max grunted at you in frustration, his usually steady hands trembling slightly as he tried to regain control of his character. the close quarters of the hotel room made it difficult to ignore the enticing scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat on his skin, further distracting him from the task at hand.
"shut up and keep playing," he muttered under his breath, shooting a half-hearted glare. despite his gruff demeanour, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, betraying his amusement at your teasing. you laughed lightly, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you expertly dispatched an enemy. "maybe you should focus more on the game and less on the view, hmm?"
max's jaw clenched, a surge of determination propelling him to concentrate harder on the screen. but it was a losing battle against your intoxicating allure, the way your breasts rose and fell with each breath and the tantalising glimpse of cleavage whenever you leaned forward.
his grip on the mouse tightened, knuckles turning white as he fought to maintain his composure. "i've got this," he growled, his character finally managing to flank and eliminate their final opponent.
“guess you won, want a reward now?”
with a triumphant grin, max grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his thick thighs, "i think it's time for me to rip off that delicious outfit," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. you bit your lip, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes as you reached behind your back and unclasped the bra, letting it fall away to reveal your breasts.
you grin and starts to pull at the zipper, revealing his impressive erection straining upwards. "mmm, looks like someone's ready for dessert," you purrs, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and giving it a slow, teasing stroke.
max groaned, his head falling back as your warm hand enveloped his rigid length. the sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. he watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you pumped him gently.
"once i get started, i don't stop until i'm satisfied," he warned, his voice strained with need.
emboldened by his words, you leaned in closer, hot breath fanning over his ear as you whispered, "then let's hope you're very, very hungry tonight." with that, you sank to your knees before him, lips parting to wrap around the swollen head of his cock.
charles
[you're wearing kick sauber lingerie]
charles' eyes widened in shock as he stared at the garish neon green lingerie adorning your body through the screen. "mon dieu," he muttered under his breath, clearly taken aback by the bold choice of attire. his gaze roamed over the bright, clashing colours, the tacky patterns, and the unflattering cut of the kick sauber set - each detail a testament to the outfit's egregious lack of style.
charles swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure despite the unsettling visual assault. he cleared his throat and attempted a diplomatic response, not wanting to hurt his lover's feelings. "ah, chérie...while i appreciate the, uh, enthusiasm behind your selection, perhaps we could find something a bit more...subdued for our next video call?" he offered a tentative smile, hoping to soften the blow of his criticism.
“i thought this would be fun, a little surprise for you. besides, it’s not like you’re gonna see me in public dressed like this. and technically i am repping your old team,” you giggled, leaning in closer to the camera, and giving him an eyeful of cleavage as the neon fabric stretched taut across your breasts.
charles' jaw clenched as you leaned in closer, the stretchy neon fabric accentuating your cleavage mere inches from the camera lens. despite his initial revulsion, he found himself captivated by the brazen display, his gaze lingering on the curves before reluctantly meeting your mischievous grin.
"ahh, mais oui, i remember now why i left sauber," he quipped dryly, attempting to deflect the attention from your provocative attire. however, the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying a hint of amusement beneath his exasperation.
you smirked again, pleased that your outfit had gotten such a reaction out of him, “i know you secretly love seeing me all dolled up in crazy outfits.” spinning around slowly, you gave him a full view of the neon green thong riding low on your hips and the matching garter belt holding up sheer stockings.
“besides, if you don’t like it, you can always cover your eyes while we talk…” you trailed off, whilst charles frantically grabbed his phone.
"non, non, i think i'll keep my eyes open," he replied, his voice taking on a huskier tone. "the, ahem, 'dressing' you've done here is quite...eye-catching." he paused, his gaze drifting back to your exposed cleavage before meeting your playful gaze once more.
"and i suppose it's only fair, considering how often you see me in those tight racing suits," charles added with a sly smirk, his mind undoubtedly wandering to the many intimate moments you had shared after a long race, "but perhaps we could find a compromise for future video calls?"
carlos
[you're wearing mercedes lingerie]
carlos stares at you, his eyes widening as they scanned your body clad in the tight-fitting biking gear, only to land on the provocative lingerie peeking out underneath. a visible shiver ran down his spine at the unexpected sight.
"what...what is this?" he stammered, trying to process the combination of athletic wear and lacy undergarments. his gaze lingered on the way the black and silver g-string peaked out from your shorts, accentuating your hips, before his eyes wandered back up to the silver cups visible beneath your bolero. carlos' face flushed a deep crimson, his racing heart pounding in his chest. the intense desire coursing through him was undeniable, yet so was the confusion. "we're supposed to go for a bike ride," he managed to say, his voice strained with arousal.
you gave him a sly smile, hands resting on your hips as you arched an eyebrow playfully. "oh, we are, mi amor," you purred, taking a step closer to him. "but first, i need you to help me adjust this."
you reached behind, slowly unclasping the laces of the bra top. the cold air reveals your hardened nipples, poking against the delicate material, "i think these might get in the way of my aerodynamics," you tease, giving the cups a gentle tug. they slip down, exposing bare skin to carlos' hungry gaze. you let the bra dangle around your wrist teasingly, the cool air causing my nipples to stiffen further.
carlos' breath hitched as he watched, transfixed, as you bared yourself to him. his mouth went dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes roamed over your newly exposed flesh. the way your pert nipples stood at attention, begging for his touch, nearly undid him right then and there. "fuck, you're driving me crazy," he groaned, his resolve crumbling under the onslaught of your seductive display. without thinking, he reached out to cup one of your breasts, thumb grazing over the sensitive peak. a low growl rumbled in his throat as he felt it stiffen further against his palm.
"you know i can't resist you like this," carlos admitted, his other hand coming up to gently squeeze the other breast, fingers rolling the nipple between them. "maybe we should skip the bike ride altogether..."
you tease him that you can't, you and his friends almost approaching your apartment for the ride. carlos' hands continued their exploration of your body, fingers dancing across your heated skin as he struggled to maintain control. but the mention of others waiting for you snapped him back to reality.
"we can't, not now," he agreed reluctantly, even as his cock twitched in his shorts, straining against the confines. "but maybe we can find a quick solution..."
with a mischievous glint in his eye, carlos bent down and captured one of your hardened nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle nibble before soothing it with his tongue. with your seductive moaning, he repeated the action on the other side, leaving you gasping and writhing against him.
"there, now you shouldn't have any aerodynamic issues. but find me after the ride, maybe we can work on them further," he said with a smirk, straightening up to admire his handiwork. your nipples were red and puffy, glistening with his saliva, just the way he liked them.
lando
[you're wearing haas lingerie]
lando sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as you sauntered over, a sly smile playing on your lips. the early morning light danced across your curves, accentuating the lacy red and white lingerie hugging your body like a second skin.
his eyes widened as they roamed over your barely concealed assets, a flicker of lust igniting within him. but then, a shadow crossed his features, his brow furrowing in displeasure. he set down his cup with a clatter.
"you can't wear that," lando stated firmly, his voice low and commanding. "those colours aren't mine," he reached out, his fingers brushing against the delicate fabric of your lingerie, tracing the white stripes that contrasted so boldly with the deep crimson.
your cheeks flushed at lando's stern rebuke, but there was an undercurrent of excitement beneath your surprise. his touch sends shivers down your spine, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin lace.
"i thought... well, i wanted to show my support," you stammered, biting your lip. the intensity in his gaze made it hard to focus on anything else. lando leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "my team wears papaya, love. not this...american red and white." his hand slid lower, cupping your ass through the sheer material. "mclaren girls know how to dress properly."
he gave your rear a firm squeeze, pulling you flush against his growing arousal. "now, why don't you change into something more appropriate... for your boyfriend's taste?"
you trembled slightly under lando's dominant touch, your heart racing at the dark possession in his tone. the rough calluses on his fingers scraped deliciously against your sensitive skin as he groped you, "i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to disrespect your team," you breathed, pressing yourself wantonly against the thick bulge now straining in his track pants. "i just wanted to look sexy for you..."
your hands slid up his muscular chest to loop around his neck. you arched your back, pushing your breasts together enticingly above the scalloped edge of your bra. the flimsy lace did little to conceal your hardening nipples.
"what if i told you i'd wear mclaren colours later? would that make you happy, handsome?" you purred sultrily, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
a low growl rumbled in lando's chest as he felt your soft curves moulding against his abs. his large hands gripped your hips, kneading the supple flesh as he ground his cloth-covered erection against your core.
"that's more like it, princess," he murmured approvingly, nipping at your earlobe. "but i think you need a reminder of who you belong to first."
in one swift motion, lando stood, sweeping you up into his strong arms. he carried you bridal style towards the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. depositing you on the plush mattress, he crawled over you with a predatory gleam in his eye.
"i'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't even remember what other colors look like," he promised darkly, hooking his thumbs into your panties.
oscar
[you're wearing alpine lingerie]
as oscar stepped through the front door of his melbourne childhood home, he's greeted by the tantalising sight of you standing before him in the foyer. your alpine lingerie clings to your curves, the pink and blue hues a bold statement against your skin. the delicate lace trim and sheer panels leave little to the imagination, showcasing your pert nipples and thighs.
oscar's eyes widen slightly as he takes in the provocative ensemble, a mix of surprise and arousal flickering across his features. he clears his throat, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance despite the obvious effect you're having on him.
"uh, nice... outfit?" he ventures hesitantly, his gaze drifting back to your body as if drawn by an unseen force. as oscar's eyes roam over your nearly naked form, you notice a visible bulge forming in his shorts. his cheeks flush a deep crimson, betraying his attempts to appear unaffected by your seductive display.
"i mean…you look... very pretty," oscar stammers, taking a tentative step closer. his voice drops an octave, heavy with desire. he reaches out a hand, lightly brushing a finger along the edge of the lingerie's lace trim. a shiver runs down your spine at the intimate contact, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
"i thought you'd appreciate the nod to my favourite f1 team," you reply coyly, arching an eyebrow, "even if you definitely don't share the same enthusiasm."
oscar chuckles softly, his touch lingering on the delicate fabric of your lingerie. "well, i suppose even a formula one driver can appreciate a beautiful woman, regardless of her allegiances." his other hand comes up to cup your chin, tilting your face towards his. oscar's lips brush against yours in a gentle, teasing kiss. when he pulls back, his eyes smoulder with barely contained lust.
oscar's hands slide down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against his rigid length. "but let's be real, baby," he murmurs against your ear, nipping at the lobe playfully. "you could wear the colours of any team and still manage to turn me on like this."
his hot breath fanning over your skin as he steps back to admire you fully. "wanna make me like alpine again?" oscar teases, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh, edging higher with each passing second. "because right now, all i can think about is how good you taste..."
he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his digits brush against your slick folds. oscar groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "christ, you're soaked already," he marvels, circling your clit with deliberate slowness. "maybe we should start with getting you out of those panties..."
george
[you're wearing vcarb lingerie]
the meeting room was filled with hushed conversations and stern faces as high-level executives debated new marketing strategies. amidst this sea of seriousness, you discreetly pulled out your phone, your heart racing with anticipation.
with a quick tap, you sent the provocative photo to george, which you had taken earlier this morning, before you had both left for work. in the image, you wore nothing but a lacy blue vcarb lingerie set, the delicate fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. your breasts were barely contained within the cups, and the panties left little to the imagination.
as you hit send, a sly smile played on your lips. you knew the risks - what if someone noticed? what if george didn't respond right away? but the thrill of the clandestine act sent shivers down your spine.
minutes ticked by, each one an eternity as you waited for his reply.
suddenly, your phone buzzed with an incoming text. george's name flashed on the screen, accompanied by a winking emoji. your pulse quickened as you opened the message.
"i'm going to need a closer look at those vcarbs. official gpda business of course," he wrote, followed by several emojis, "meet me in the parking garage after the meeting."
a rush of heat flooded through you at his bold suggestion. this was definitely not part of your original plan, but the idea of sneaking off to indulge in some forbidden pleasure with your secret lover was too enticing to resist. you glanced around the room, ensuring no one had noticed your exchange. satisfied, you typed back, "i'll be waiting, but make it fast. we both know how strict they can be about employee conduct. especially with you,"
fifteen minutes later, the meeting adjourned and attendees began filing out of the conference room. you lingered behind, feigning interest in some marketing materials on the table while keeping a watchful eye on the clock. finally, the last stragglers departed, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering scent of expensive leather. you gathered your things and made your way to the elevators, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor.
in the dimly lit parking garage, you spotted george leaning against his sleek silver mercedes. his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a hungry gleam in their depths. he straightened up, his tailored suit accentuating his body.
"flattery will get you everywhere," you purred, pressing yourself against him. the cool metal of the car seemed to sear your skin as you moulded your body to george's. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his hard chest. george's hands roamed over your curves, tracing the edges of your blue lingerie. "i've been thinking about these all meeting," he whispered hotly in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. without waiting for a response, george palmed his hands under your skirt, before slowly tugging down your panties, watching them as they fell to the floor. left bare before him, you felt a surge of vulnerability mixed with excitement.
"you look even more stunning than the photo," george murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. george's gaze raked over your exposed flesh, his eyes darkened with lust, thumb grazed your clit, making you gasp.
"you're playing with fire here," you warned, even as your hips tilted forward, seeking more of his touch. "we could get caught..."
"but that's half the thrill, isn't it?" george countered, his fingers dipping beneath the skirt again to tease your slick folds. "imagine the scandal if we got caught fucking in the company garage."
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Simon would never argue with MOB, that’s a given. And defending her honor??? Maybe it’s leaked that Mrs. Riley is in fact a Mail Order Bride for who knows where doing who knows what and let’s just say someone spreads that rumor around base and it gets back to one Lieutenant👀👀
mail-order bride
cw: graphic depictions of violence, a little smidge of dark!simon, misogynistic language (18+)
"here to see your husband, mrs. riley?"
you smile, shuffling in the chair. the woman who greets you is always here with a happy disposition, even when she's drowning in paperwork and the telephone on her desk won't stop ringing. she looks a little stressed today, but she gives you a smile anyways.
"yeah," you smooth your hands down your jeans, looking around. "told me his day would be slow, so i thought i'd bring him--"
you're interrupted by the sound of intense laughter and loud voices. the front doors open, banging against the wall practically, and a group of soldiers move past you. you fiddle with your purse, smoothing your thumb over the leather, but when you hear the subtle laughter and whispers still around you, you look up.
you make eye contact with several privates. they're whispering in each other's ears, but once they notice you're staring, they laugh a little more and make continue into the building. some of them look over their shoulder at you, and you look down to see if something is wrong with your outfit. when you check to make sure no tags are sticking out and that you haven't worn two different shoes, you just try to shrug it off, tucking your hair behind your ears and tapping your foot anxiously against the linoleum floor.
"okay, he's ready to see you. you know where it is by now, right?"
you blink, nodding, and then you swing your purse over your shoulder to walk over.
there's a game playing in the rec room. they've got banners up for their teams hung on the walls and streamers in different colors, and there's lots of men cheering and whooping in the room. just as you pass by the door, you squeak as you bump right into two laughing men, stumbling a little as they try to right themselves.
"fuck, sorry--" one of them chuckles. you frown a little but try to smile, moving to shimmy past them.
"is that her?"
"who?"
"didn't ya hear? lieutenant bought her off some sort of fucked-up catalog. heard she's real expensive."
you whip around, your lip trembling, and your shoes squeak against the floor as you stare right at them. one of them is smiling from ear-to-ear, and the other is laughing to himself.
"where did you hear that?" you ask.
"everybody knows, love," he winks. "so how much is it for a night? maybe we can do a group rate."
"e-excuse me?" you whisper, and he leans his arm against the wall, trapping you there.
"we heard all about the...program. thought maybe if we asked real nice, maybe we'd even get a discount."
"i don't know what you're talking about," you spit at him. "whatever you think this is, you're wrong. now get out of my way--"
"how much? how much did he fucking pay?"
"oh, mate--mate, you have to stop--" his friend tries to warn him, smacking him on the shoulder, but he glares down at you still, in your face, accusatory.
his face goes from smug to absolutely terrified when he's grabbed from behind. the hand that cages you against the wall is gripped by a gloved hand, twisted at an unnatural angle, and you flinch a little at the sound of his wail when his arm follows it's motion and a sickening pop echoes in the hallway.
his screams are suddenly drowned out by the cheering from the football game. someone scored maybe, but the man underneath simon screams, too, terrified as your husband mounts him like a fucking horse and slams his face against the floor.
it's like watching an artist. he paints his surroundings in flecks of red, the occasional clatter of a tooth falling at their feet, and you tilt your head to the side as you watch simon fist that man's hair and makes him eat whatever that floor is made of. he's in agony--that much is clear, from the way he shakes to the terrified look in his eyes, the pleading he sends your way as he asks for mercy.
when simon lets him go, he collapses onto the ground in a fit of bloody coughs and groans. his arm hangs from his shoulder limply (surely it's been pulled out of its socket), and his face is unrecognizable. you think his eyes were blue, but you can't tell anymore. they're red now, pupils blown wide, and he keeps moaning between broken teeth, "didn't mean it...i'm sorry...i'm sorry..."
simon kneels, leaning over him, and he grips the front of his uniform and pulls him up to sit, making him cry out from the pain. he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and he drops his voice low.
"dunno where ya heard all tha' shit," simon mutters. "ain't true."
"n-no, sir--"
"i didn't say you could fuckin' talk," simon continues. "and if ya do again, i'll make sure ya can't." when he says nothing, simon tsks. "maybe ya wish ya could even afford my wife, mate. but ya can't." he tugs him a little closer. "'m gonna make ya an example. 'm not done with you. you are going to eat a fuckin' bullet from me, mate, but it won't be today. it'll be someday." simon presses his masked mouth to his ear. "but if i hear anyone else repeat wot you said 'ere today, i'll do it sooner. and you should know better than t'run...because i will find ya. wherever ya go." simon jostles him, and you swallow as he cries, trying to pull away, "now say thank you t'my wife. say thank you, because if she wasn't 'ere, i'd put my fuckin' boot in yer mouth--say it!"
"thank you! thank you!"
you simply blink as simon lets him go finally, standing, and as he walks past you, he grabs your hand roughly in his and starts to walk. you look over your shoulder as he tugs you along, and when you look back, you intertwine your fingers with his.
when the door closes behind him, simon slumps in his chair. he grips his mask from the back of the neck and pulls it off, burying his face in his hands. you set your bag down and kneel in front of him, putting your hands over his.
"simon--"
"wot the fuck is wrong with me?"
"simon--"
"i-in...i...i fuckin' lost it--"
you pull his hands off his face gently, cupping his cheeks. the eye-black smears a little around his eyes. there are no tears, but his eyes are watery as he stares into yours. his hands are shaking, and he palms his thighs to keep them steady.
"it's okay, simon," you whisper.
"i didn't want you to see me tha' way," he shakes his head. "violent. aggressive. fuck, i must've terrified you--"
"i'm not scared," you say softly. you smooth your thumbs under his eyes. "no one...no one's ever done anything like that for me before." you meet his eyes, and he leans a little more into your hands, bending low to get closer to you. "maybe he deserved it."
"i would...i would never--"
"shhh," you quiet him gently, shaking your head. "i know. i'm not scared of you."
you lean up, putting your hands on his knees and getting up just enough to get into his lap. you close your eyes as you kiss him softly, hugging him close, soothing him with a soft hand on the back of his head.
"you didn't do anything wrong, simon..."
"it's okay, baby..."
"i love you."
you know it isn't true. you're lying, somewhat, but it doesn't feel like a lie because it feels good. sick of being smaller, sick of being stepped on, sick of letting other people not be held accountable for the things that they do.
just this once maybe, you can let someone bleed. for misunderstanding you. for judging you. for not realizing there is a thing attached to you that bites and tears apart.
the world is a terrible place. and maybe you are simply just owed.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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