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#rather not and be the cool relative
puppyeared · 1 year
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man ok so you know the spiciness scale on menus that show you how spicy a dish is so you can order based on your tolerance. can we have that for sauces too please
#im being serious btw. the sauce to rice ratio is very important and sacred to me#whenever i eat at home i get to choose how much sauce i can have with my rice because i dont like absolutely dousing it but i still wanna b#able to taste it yanno. i dont do well with slippery/saucy foods and ive given up trying to understand it. it might be a sensory thing#i am so sorry to admit this on the soup website but i cant handle thick/chunky sauces or curry. forgive me#the worst part is that i actually can handle and even enjoy some like caldereta and congee. but its so hard to tell people ill eat this but#not that.. its embarassing because it feels like im making exceptions. which i am!! because its preference!! but alas#but anyway with the sauce scale. i was thinking it would be nice to include a scale for how much sauce you want with a dish#rather than just skirting away from a food because you feel like you cant handle the texture or feel unsure about it#sauce could be adjustable without completely changing the recipe so it would be more like a matter of quantity or serving size#also i feel like i can make cool names for the scale. like “light drizzle” to “sauceageddon”#im asian so when i eat sauce i pair it with rice and it works because the rice kind of cancels out or makes the sauce more tolerable for me#with caldereta i make it an even 50/50 because i can taste it in the rice without the texture getting in the way#but with pasta and sauce its normally 1/3 sauce because the pasta normally isnt enough to cancel it out#i also grew up with relatives making fun of my eating habits and i really really hate eating at restaurants and gatherings because of it#maybe its because they want to make sure im eating right but!! you dont have to call me out for my 1/3 portion of spaghetti sauce!! damn!!!#anyway im not sure if anyone feels the same abt this and maybe its just me. but it would be really nice to have this a normal thing#without judging ppl for their eating habits and preferences. on god#yapping#food ment#EDIT: ASKING FOR SAUCE ON THE SIDE. MY EYES HAVE BEEN OPENED. I DIDNT KNOW THAT WAS A THING
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Sandman: It’s just so hard not getting to see my little girl
Otto, who stole some of Spidey’s DNA to combine with his to make a kid to use against him, lex luthor style, but Spidey just kidnapped the kid immediately when he found out and got Matt to cover him legally: I know exactly how you feel, Spiderman won’t even let me have visitations with my kid :(
Sandman:
Sandman: That is not the same thing, our situations are not comparable at all, it’s important to me that you know that
#I like thinking of Otto for situations like that for several reasons#cause I usually think of him with red hair so with him and spidey combining dna you could get a kid with red hair#making may-day even in universes where he doesn’t get with MJ#and it’s a funny situation for me to think of him telling other spideys#‘oh me and MJ? that didn’t end up happening’#‘why do I have this red haired daughter? well funny story actually-‘#also I like to think that as the kid gets older they have to deal with Otto trying to persuade them to become evil#gifting them mechanical spider legs#which is a cool look#also Otto is my favorite villain to imagine as being the only one who knows Peter’s identity#especially in universes where they used to work together#so rather than sounding like an evil villain like he’s trying to be#he’s trying so hard to sound and be Spidey’s worst nightmare#he just ends up sounding like a bitter ex who misses his lab partner and whenever he explains his ‘evil plan’#instead of sounding like an actual supervillain using the hero’s fears of forever being alone after their last relative dies#by dangling blood relative in front of them and threatening it#he just accidentally makes it sound like the kid’s his last shot at getting the ex back#kind of a ‘you can’t leave me for another villain I’m pregnant and it’s yours’ type of thing#idk I just prefer Otto for this#otto octavius#flint marko#doc ock#sandman#Spiderman#spider man#spider-man#peter parker#made up dialogue by yours truly
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forcedhesitation · 5 months
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oh? something mizora said actually being worth listening to??
this is an interesting bit of foreshadowing to ansur being dead/wyll being the true "heart of the gate!"
#bg3#thoughts about media#I have to wonder if they considered draconic sorcerer wyll at all...#I don't believe there are really any stipulations for how a draconic sorcerer obtains their power from the dragon.#maybe they DID consider it- but decided against it because they didn't think/didn't have time to make it so that wyll would-#-automatically be the one chosen to speak to ansur were he in the party. that would have been a cool potential path for him honestly!#like if he was in your party- he would get auto-selected to speak to ansur and if you chose certain dialogue options-#-he could gain the powers of a sorcerer! it would work well to build upon the twist in his fairy tale-like story!#is it because of the bad reputation sorcerers have? or because mizora is technically classified as one?#or maybe it's because they didn't want to have wyll and the durge to BOTH be sorcerers. since they're both origins...?#idk. I'm kind of the opinion that durge is somewhat...overrated. I'd rather wyll get the fancy magical dragon powers.#I feel like they should have just...not added durge as a character and focused on REALLY polishing the 6 main origin companions.#because even with a character like star. who has a lot of material-- the writing feels...directionless? at certain points?#in a better world. we would have 6 main characters with more cohesive stories of relatively equal length and complexity.#in a better world. wyll would be treated as THE main of the main characters that he is. he and lae'zel.#they are like the CORE of the story imo.
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lieutenantselnia · 3 months
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My birthday is in 4 weeks already huh where did the time go🫠
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skenpiel · 1 year
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had a dream i died a horrible and mysterious death but was isekaid as a little bunny furry thing with a cape living in some peaceful hobbit-like fantasy hamlet where i had a goat and also my name was witherworth for some reason. it was awesome
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orcelito · 1 year
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OK WAIT here's a ITNL chapter 14 section that's not really spoilers. just a sweet lil section
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after this is where it's more Spoilers. but for now. HERE U go. happy birthday vash & also Uhhhh @ ITNL readers I PROMISE i am working on the chapter. things r just hard lol
#speculation nation#itnl shit#spoilers bc of uhh. Conversation. i wanna keep the conversation a secret for now lol#not bad spoilers it's just better digested as a whole probably#ANYWAYS heres some more vash & kaite bro time. god im gonna miss kaite when we gotta say goodbye to him#but he's still here for now and he gets to watch vash tinker with his (very internally fried) arm#before and after this section is vash inspecting the damages & thinking of what he can do to try to fix it#which i do have a lot written. but im gonna be going thru it for accuracy & also keeping in mind the thing from earlier#the possibility that average operational power of his arm comes from vash himself rather than extra batteries#this is with the assumption that a (relatively) small output of electricity is not smth that would fuck with his lifespan#just a normal expenditure of energy. like moving his flesh muscles. just a constant lil stream of electricity that he gets from eating & w/#no need to dip into his life reserves for it. bc if he did that would get impractical.#idk im going to think about it more. i really dont Need to figure out how his arm works#but listen. ive built a robot before. im in polytech. i wanna think about wtf his arm actually Is#even if this is coming in the context of all the internal wires being blown & a bunch of shit straight up Melted#his arm is... very very blown... he's gonna be going one-arm for a While still lmao. oh well#i think it's a good thing to remember that he is in fact physically disabled. he can make up for it Especially in a fight#but it still will inconvenience him in a lot of ways. cool biotech arm is cool but also it's nice to remember that he Is physically disable#and so i am embracing it. he's tinkering with his arm in his free time but if he has to spend weeks (or months) w/o his prosthetic#well that's just the reality he's gotta live#anywyas. Here u go. snippet. that's a few hundred words so idk if this counts as a snippet but im calling it a snippet. Here You Go
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dandyshucks · 7 months
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i get slightly annoyed when people make community posts that tell ppl to stop doing xyz and use the phrases "they're a FICTIONAL character, theyre NOT REAL" to justify whatever theyre saying because:
1) everyone knows that already, we're all aware these are blorbos from our media;
2) if someone is genuinely struggling to grasp that because of a delusion or similar, a forceful reality check is only going to cause harm rather than help;
3) it just feels so needlessly patronizing;
4) most of the time whatever I see people complaining about is either smth that I never see anyone doing or if it is smth somebody is doing then the block button is a very quick and effective fix for the issue (or even a quick convo w the person in DMs can resolve issues!)
(granted I keep my following circle very small and probably miss a lot but if i can do that then perhaps... perhaps other people can do it too fhfkdl like just prune back whatever u dont like seeing! unfollow or block as needed!)
#speaking as someone who has experienced and occasionally still experiences delusions!!!#reality checks do not help unless we ask for them directly! it's only going to make things worse if u force one on us!#also yes im aware of the hypocrisy of me making a post complaining abt things#but its often just this one phrase that i will see in otherwise decent posts that go around#and im not about to unfollow ppl just bc of this one phrase being used in a post or two that they might've rbed fhfjdl#also this is a niche thing to know about i think? like i dont think most ppl know a lot about delusions#.... as evidenced by ppl using delulu as a quirky meme word. god that one makes me tired and frustrated fjfkdl#but yeah normally i keep complaints and annoyances to myself but this one i figured might actually be helpful to talk about here#since i know theres probably a lot of ppl who have no idea that this is a thing that can actually make things worse rather than better#and like. theres bigger fish to fry i know that! this is a relatively small thing all things considered#but i feel like perhaps if i can make life a little easier for one other person who struggles w mental health then its worth it#if i can convince one person to be more mindful of their language to make the world slightly safer for fellow mentally ill folks then yay!#and i know the internet doesnt need to cater to us crazies but fhdkdl it'd be cool if ppl could just be a tad kinder or more thoughtful#again! not shaming or blaming and I'm not even upset w anyone#ppl genuinely just do not know abt this stuff unless a loved one or they themselves struggle w delusions or psychosis etc#and even then oftentimes its such a stigmatized topic that even ppl who struggle w it themselves might not know or realize it#anyways. climbing down off my soapbox like a kitten clumsily climbing off of a tall couch SBDJSKL#dandy.cmd
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dawnstarranger · 1 year
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Sometimes I get too big for my britches and think that joining a fantasy/sci-fi discussion group is a good idea
Usually only takes a day before I realize my folly and repent (delete myself from the group as fast as possible)
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dexaroth · 2 years
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also ive been thinking. i always saw 'dex' as like a standalone nome and it only ocurred to me like recently-ish that it was the short version of dexter and idk its sort of growing on me. i kind of feel like a dexter. i think ppl irl would be like 'of course they have a weird name' whenever they saw me clumsily walking to my appointment n stuff. its also distinct enough to be easily recognized when im unfocused but has the drawback of being way further up alphabetically and such would force me to present those dumb college group projects earlier -_- ive had classes with a whopping 3 G names and even 2 ppl with the same name as me, sometimes that lead to there being so many ppl in front of me and the project needing at least 5 minutes to present that i got to do it on the next week just bcuz of name alone. im gonna miss that lol
also i have this fateful feeling that there will be a big potential of like. consequences to the name. i can imagine some ppl comparing me to the guy from dexter's laboratory but theres gotta be some more opportunities like that that i just cant conceive. ofc ive always had a name that has a big humiliating joke potential along the lines of having Dick as your first name but somehow i guess the school i was raised at or the ppl there just didnt do it to me or did it behind my back, i dunno. ive heard it from my mom but no one ever used it directly i was just constantly ridiculed by my weight instead by random 7yos which like yeah thats miles easier but itneresting i guess
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neverendingford · 7 months
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#tag talk#just realized the intense depression and associated anger issues and intrusive violent thoughts are prolly related to the Lamictal I starte#I was like “I don't think I need this don't think it'll help but I'll try it for science” because I'll try anything once#and uhhh. I went to go to bed and realized there was a bowl with food tucked into my bed covers.#laundry all over is one thing. that's kind of normal. but food in my bed is massive warning bells so I was like uh oh that's real depressio#so anyway i messaged my dr like hey I think these meds are making me feel so fucking lethargic and despondent and also I want to kill peopl#because I would just stop taking them but I'm willing to see what she thinks.#also my current psychiatrist is really great and I like her a lot idk if I already talked about her but she's really cool.#the first one I got was an absolute dick and was passive aggressive towards me and also straight up lied in her notes about me?#said that I had said I'm not sexually active and like. bitch where did I ever say that ever that's literally untrue and you wrote it down.#like. I don't think medical professionals are supposed to lie about you actually that's kind of a big problem#also she was like “I'm not seeing adhd here at all” and wanted to do a full on adhd diagnosis before trying any meds for it#whereas my new person was just like “oh you don't have to talk about being adhd it's pretty obvious to me” and I was like kissing you kissi#ng you kissing you kissing you kissing y#but yeah. I don't think I want to keep taking these meds and I think I'm just gonna take the meds I have to today not the short term ones#some days I just don't need my adhd meds or I would rather feel my normal relatively unproductive self.#still gonna take the ssri and estrogen obvs cause those need to keep up levels in my body and also duh I wanna keep my E levels up#but the others nah my body is super sensitive to meds (or any substances tbh) so I need a break from them today I feel really unbalanced#I did have my gf deadass ask me “should I be worried?” when I mentioned the violent intrusive thoughts and I was like no no no no it's fine#because like. I've never genuinely hurt someone fully impulsively like that. it's all thoughts it's all in the head#I'm not gonna kidnap and murder and dissect anyone it's just theoretical situations my brain likes to fuck me up with.#but it does kinda suck to have people around you inherently mistrust you because of how your brain works.#my brother told me a while back that he locks his door at night because he's worried about me and you do know how fucking hurtful that is?#the person you trust enough to move out and move in with is afraid of you enough to lock their door at night.#not like that would stop me if I genuinely did try to hurt him obviously. interior door locks are a joke.#but like... that someone would hear you talk about intrusive thoughts and genuinely think you capable of them to some extent.#idk that hurts a lot.#I wish I weren't like this.
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months
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Edit: thank you @tetranationaltortoise for pointing out that the Red Spot is on Jupiter instead of Saturn! Fixed it! You’re not nickpicking, you’re providing very appreciated constructive criticism (and a basic fact check I should have done lol) <3
Danny, as usual, hadn’t meant to become the local cryptid. Local being extremely relative, as his locality in this instance is… space.
He just wanted to have some relaxation time. He just wanted to do some homework, chill on Mars or something, and then call it a day.
This hero business was taxing and Danny took his breaks when he could. Take that, work-life balance! Just kidding, Danny had no work-life balance. His life is a mess and he's overworked.
What was it that Superman had said in that one interview?
“Evil never sleeps."
Apparently, that also meant Danny never slept either.
“Hrk!” Danny snorted awake, looking around wildly at the vast expanse of space to see what woke him.
….
Yeah, that’ll do it.
In front of him, merrily floating through space, is the battered remains of what used to be an asteroid and a mecha that’s a weird combination of Gotham’s vigilante hero, Batman, and Metropolis’ Golden Boy, Superman.
The vibrations of the collision had shaken Danny awake.
Danny got up, baffled as hell and half asleep still. He floated to the giant Bat insignia tumbling around, inching closer as he saw the- oh hell, that’s so cool, it’s a plane!- cockpit and the passed out hero inside of it. Danny clicked his tongue, the sound swallowed by the lack of air.
He shoved the plane closer to earth, passing it to a bewildered (and both beat up and stressed out) Superman, who did a double take at the glowing green boy chucking him the Toy-maker Batplane.
Danny had waved, blinked out of visibility, and had gone back to his nap.
After phasing inside the plane and nabbing a batarang from Batman’s pouch, that is. Danny will consider it payment for the clean up service he’d unwittingly signed himself up for.
And so went the first encounter.
——
The second time he met the so called Big Leagues, Danny had just come back from fighting Dan. He wanted a break, dammit, and if staring at Saturn’s gorgeous rings and gaseous formations helped him sleep better, then that’s what’s going to happen.
Then, a similarly green glowing Green Lantern “landed” to where he was floating curled up. Danny knew about Lanterns. Their council often tried to meddle in his court.
“Hello,” the Ring projected its Lantern’s words to Danny’s head. Danny tilted his head without looking at the Lantern. “I’m John Stewart. What are you doing out here, kid?”
Danny thought this guy had a nice, soothing voice. Powerful, as Latern tended to be, but infinitely kind.
Danny decided that this one wasn’t immediately on his shit list.
“Phantom.” He said, and the Lantern asked him to repeat it as the glow of his ring enveloped the halfa.
“Phantom. Are you lost, Phantom?”
“No, just dead.”
John Stewart paused. “…Dead?”
“I’m a ghost,” Danny raised his hands and phased it through the Lantern’s arm.
“Ah,” the man said, flustered. “Right. So… you’re just…”
“Hanging out.” As he talked to the Lantern, Danny had a rather amusing idea. He rotated himself- turned- towards Jupiter and pointed to the Red Spot. “That’s actually my grave.”
John Stewart paused. “I’m sorry…?”
“My grave. Don’t disturb it. It’s rude,” Danny lied through his sharp ghost teeth. “Your council disturbed my grave the last time they stopped by and it took ages to get it back right.”
The green Lantern shield enveloping Danny flickered as John Stewart went through the five stages of grief. To be fair, the council had last visited this solar system... a couple thousand years ago, so John was no doubt rapidly doing some mental math regarding Danny's age.
“The council disturbed your grave…?”
“Not that they knew it, those pretentious weirdos.” Danny pretended to be offended, just to see the struggle on John’s face as he debated defending the council or telling a dead child their grave didn’t matter. Because Stewart was a hero, he went with the latter.
“I see. I am sorry, on their behalf.”
“Eh, whatever. Just make sure they don’t do it again. So… what can that ring do?”
——
"Hi. Could you not litter in space, please?"
Wonder Woman whirled around, sword out and pointed at Danny.
"A... child? Who are you, child?"
"I'm not a child-! You know what, it doesn't even matter. See that?" Danny waved at the pieces of shattered meteor and smashed up alien tech floating outside of the watch tower. "Littering is not cool."
"How did you get in here?"
"I'm Phantom. This is kind of my neighborhood." Danny let his mouth run, sleep deprived and exhausted. "I'm dead, that's how I got in here. Could you not litter in my backyard, please?"
He had better things to do than cleaning after full grown adult heroes.
"Oh, you are the ghost child Lantern mentioned! I see! My apologies, the clean up will be starting in a bit." Wonder Woman slid her sword back into its sheath.
"Great. Nice meeting you. I'll stick around to make sure you young whipper snappers clean up properly."
With that, Danny sunk into the floor. After a moment's deliberation, he decided to take a nap in the floor vent.
——
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Danny jolted awake once more. Ancients, like mentor, like mentee. Robin stared at him, awkwardly wriggling through the floor vents.
"I'm taking a nap here," Danny grumbled. "What are you doing in the vents?"
"Me? What are you doing in the vents? I'm allowed in here!"
"Wonder Woman knows I'm here," Danny replied. She knows... probably? "I'm Phantom."
"Robin."
"So... what are you doing?"
"Knowledge is power," Robin intoned, clearly imitating the Bat.
Danny stared.
"... You're stalking the JL?"
"Information gathering!"
"Stalking," Danny concluded, ignoring Robin's grumble. "Yeah, okay. If you need help, let me know, I guess."
"I don't need help." Robin paused, tilting his head to the side like a particularly curious bird. "Unless you're up for some pranks? Green Lantern's been getting on my nerves lately."
Danny frowned at him. "I like John Stewart."
"You've met- no, not him, the other one."
"Oh. What do I get out of it?"
Robin reached into his belt pouch and pulled out... a bag of marshmallows? How the hell did that-? Ah, right, hammerspace.
"Oh, wait, can you eat this?"
"I'm dead, not tasteless. I love marshmallows, hand it over. I'll help out."
"Deal."
——
"I swear to god, Spooky, there's something in the walls. It's even creepier than you!"
Batman grunted. He'd stop Robin if he went too far and it started affecting Lantern's abilities on the field, but as far as the Dark Knight was concerned, the Green Lantern had it coming. Robins were vindictive on a good day. If Hal hadn't learned that from Dick, then Jason's retaliation was well deserved.
"Oh, maybe it's the ghost!" Hal said, looking around with his ring glowing.
"I thought John said he was a godling?" Diana polished her sword as she looked on in amusement.
"The boy." Batman grunted. "Not human, his pointed ears and green skin is proof of that. Did J'onn say anything?"
"Not yet."
"Whatever he is, he saved Batman. He's welcome in the Tower," Superman tilted back as his hearing picked up on Robin's and Phantom's snickering.
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radioactiveparker · 2 months
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The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)
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Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.
Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie
Word Count - 5.2K
~~~~~
You couldn't stand it anymore.
Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.
Nothing seemed to work.
You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Clank!
Squueeaakk!
Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.
It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.
Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.
"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.
Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.
You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."
His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.
You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."
"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.
"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"
He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.
You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.
"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."
His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."
You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.
"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.
"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.
"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."
You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.
"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.
You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.
~~~~~
The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.
You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"
You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.
"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."
He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"
Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.
Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.
And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.
You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.
"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.
A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.
"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.
"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.
You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.
You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.
His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.
"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.
"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.
You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"
His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.
"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"
"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.
Eddie.
You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.
"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.
It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.
You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.
Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.
It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.
It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.
And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.
"Open." He demands.
You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.
He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.
He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.
Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.
A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.
Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.
You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.
He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.
To see the kind of power he could have.
The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.
Eddie liked that idea very much.
It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.
"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."
His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.
"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.
You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.
"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."
You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.
"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"
"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.
He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.
"Let them see."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."
You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.
"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.
Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.
His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.
"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.
He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.
But not right now.
Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.
His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.
"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.
"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."
And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.
Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.
He was addicted already.
He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.
His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.
You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.
And he was hardly halfway in.
You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.
Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.
But you did not want him to be gentle.
Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.
You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.
You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.
"Oh fuck baby."
"That feels so good, baby."
"Baby, I'm so close."
"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."
Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.
"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.
He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.
His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."
Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.
"Fuck Eddie!"
"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."
Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.
"Fuck! Eddie!"
Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.
"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."
His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.
"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.
"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.
Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.
The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.
"Are you okay?"
Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."
There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.
"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.
You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"
"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."
You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."
He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"You take me on a date."
"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"
~~~~~
Taglist:
@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt
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fairene · 3 months
Text
beneath the moonlight / ln4
vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister
no use of y/n, as always.
Tumblr media
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
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evilminji · 7 months
Text
You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months
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congrats on 1k!
would you be able to do something with ghost and pda? like when he’s with the team being all intimidating but completely changing when he’s with you?
Oh, anon! I would be happy to! Do I believe that at work Simon is an intimidating and slightly scary individual? Absolutely I do. Do I also believe that outside of work Simon is literally the opposite? Yes. Yes, I absolutely do. This is written with a gn!reader in mind!
Content & Warnings: fluff, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, brief suggestive themes
Word Count: 535
A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for the 1k follower event. This is just a reminder that the event is closed and I am not taking any more requests. Thank you!
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist
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Simon who is always a stoic and intimidating individual while on the job. He is relatively calm, cool, and collected. He is excellent under pressure. He is confident in his skills. And like his callsign, Simon is exactly that—a ghost.
Simon who can slit throats, break necks, and unload his weapon without a second thought. He doesn’t blink when it’s not one of his own. Some find that scary. Others admire him. Simon accepts the praise quietly and keeps going.
Simon who starts to shift when it’s finally time to come home. The team notices but doesn’t say anything. Simon always appears a bit anxious. His foot constantly taps like he’s impatient and can’t get out of there fast enough. They don’t blame him. They all have someone they want to return to.
Simon who knows that he can’t drive too fast or speed his way home because he knows you’ll be upset with him. And he always arrives late in the night when you don’t expect him. Simon is quiet. He undresses quietly. Sets all of his stuff down. Curls up next to you in the bed. Immediately falls asleep.
Simon who is soft and tender with you when you finally awaken to him. He wants to rebuild that connection, repair what might have been lost, and that starts with the physical. Once that’s done, Simon only wants to rekindle the romance.
Simon who never wears his mask on dates. Never. Ghost is for work. The mask is for work. There are only two people in this relationship. You and Simon.
Simon who never stops touching you. If he’s not holding your hand, he’s resting his chin on the top of your head, or he has an arm slung over your shoulder. If he’s feeling a little possessive, it might be a hand on the back of the neck, or a firm palm on the ass.
Simon who doesn’t care if anyone sees him kiss you. If people stare, he’ll put on a show even if you protest and try to slip out of his arms.
Simon who absently finds himself touching you even in the most generic of places. Grocery store, pharmacy, or standing in line. His body is always physically near. He can’t help it.
Simon who speaks softly and gently to you. His gruff voice is for the bedroom or when you’re irritating him.
Simon who looms behind you (sometimes menacingly) just because he likes to show everyone around the two of you that you belong to him and no one else. People get the message rather quickly.
Simon who loves to pull you in by the waist and kiss you in corners when there isn’t anyone watching. He won’t put on a show. He just wants a little moment with you.
Simon who is always reaching for you when the two of you are out at a restaurant. Sometimes it’s a hand on the thigh. Sometimes it’s reaching across the table because he wants to hold your hand.
Simon who always tries to kiss your knuckles whenever you try to hand him something.
Simon who hates shutting out your love for a bit when he returns to his work.
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