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#sorry for this taking a while to be answered
luveline · 1 day
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Ooo can we have a blurb where bombshell! R and Spence were either on a date or were about to have their first time but got called into work? They both look a little annoyed at being interrupted. The bombshell reader series has my heart 🥺
im picturing boyband reid here maybe <3 fem
cw suggestive content
“These are trick buttons,” you accuse. 
Spencer laughs for the tenth time in as many minutes, perhaps tickled under your hands, more likely that he’s just feeling the same rush of hormones (namely adrenaline) as you are. “They’re not trick buttons, it’s ‘cos your hands are shaking.” 
He takes your poor hands in his. “It’s okay,” he adds softly, “I can do it.” 
“I’m not nervous, I’m excited,” you say, less soft, more desperate than he is, or at least on the surface. 
“I know, I know–” He catches your lips in a sudden eager kiss, a hand jumping to your cheek to ferry you closer, the other sewing down between your two chests to work open his fiendish buttons. 
“See,” he says between kissing, “easy.” 
“I’d like to see this level of dexterity when you unclasp my bra,” you mumble, kissing with every bit of hunger and love you have for him, lips drifting to his cheek, and then down to his jaw. Your mouth opens of its own accord. Spencer lets a breath slip from him coloured with wanting, the most amorous sound he’s ever made under your hands as you kiss, and nip, and—
Your phone rings from the nightstand, a heavy, repetitive vibration. 
“Ignore it,” you say easily, climbing up over Spencer’s lap, hand to the side of his face and rubbing tenderly. 
“I was planning on it,” he says. He was shy at first, those first few kisses, but Spencer’s a person like any other and he squeezes your hips closer to his without further argument. 
Your phone stops ringing a half a minute later. You smile into his mouth, even more when his fingers climb the length of your spine to slip playfully under the clasp of your bra. “How many tries do I get?” he asks. 
You sit back just a touch to meet his charming gaze. “As many as you need, handsome… I’m very patient.” 
He pulls you in to kiss your neck just as his phone begins to ring. 
“It’s work,” he guesses, paused regretfully under your chin. 
“We don’t know that.” 
“That’s my ringtone for work.” 
You breathe heavily atop him. “Can’t we be late?” 
He smiles at you gently. “I’m sorry, angel. If we’re late again this week he might actually bite your head off.”
Things were so perfect. This was it, this was the moment you finally knew each other to the very core, and your stomach aches with how badly you want him. You're startled at the heat behind your eyes knowing it’s not gonna happen. 
“Not tonight,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. Maybe he’d been thinking a similar thing. “But soon, okay?”
You wrap your arms around his neck. 
His phone stops ringing before he can catch it. Both of your phones ping with simultaneous text messages quickly afterward, before your ringtone begins again in earnest. 
He leans graciously toward the nightstand, allowing you to continue hugging him while also answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask. 
“Agent Hotchner’s calling you in.” 
You press your nose to Spencer’s shoulder. “Okay. I have Dr. Reid with me too. Please stop calling, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, flustered. You hang up quick. 
Spencer pats your back with his fingers, palm flat to your shoulder, apparently the less gutted of the both of you at your missed moment. “Let me get you dressed, okay?” he says. “You’re too sulky. It wouldn’t have even been that good.” 
“How rude.” 
His teasing continues. “I’m serious. I haven’t been with anyone since that girl in Vegas–”
“What girl in Vegas?” 
“–and anyways,” he says, tilting your head back, his smile both playful and adoring at once, “you shouldn’t have been on top.” 
“Spencer,” you laugh, pressing your hand to your eyes. 
“I have a head full of statistics on female pleasure and I don’t need them to know you should be laying down when we–”
You kiss him. “That’s enough,” you say, pressing the tips of your noses together. “I get the picture.” Your arm curled around his neck feels right, and you’re heartbroken to let it slink back to your side, but you do. “I love you. I wish we’d chosen different careers.” 
“I love you, too, but I don’t. Then we never would’ve met,” he says simply.
You let out a happy breath. “I guess not.” 
Spencer hoists you off of his lap in an impressive show of strength, but then he dumps you in the mess of sheets, which is less lovely. “What do you want to wear?” he asks, springing up, heading straight for his closet. “I pressed your pinstriped dress yesterday, that would look cute with your stockings. And you won’t need a jacket, it’s hotter out there than it is in here. Why are you looking at me like that? We literally don’t have time for this.” 
You love him. You’re gonna rock his world when you get home. “The dress is fine.” You put your arms up in the air. “I’m waiting. And look! We’re half undressed already. How convenient.” 
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pucksandpower · 3 days
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Hypnotized
Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader
Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis
Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak
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You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.
The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”
He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”
Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”
He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”
“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”
“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.
“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”
Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”
You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”
You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”
Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”
He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”
Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”
You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”
His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.
“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.
“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”
You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.
“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”
Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.
“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”
His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.
“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”
A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.
“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.
“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”
He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.
“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”
There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.
“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”
His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.
“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”
Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.
“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”
He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.
“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”
“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.
You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.
“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”
Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.
You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.
“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”
His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.
“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”
Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,
“Come for me, love!”
His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.
At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.
“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”
He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”
You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”
His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.
You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.
You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.
He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”
You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”
A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.
With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.
The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.
Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.
Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.
“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.
He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”
A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.
You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.
“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”
He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.
“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.
Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.
He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.
Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.
“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.
A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.
You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.
Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.
Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.
“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.
A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”
“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”
The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.
Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.
“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.
“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.
“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.
His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.
“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.
You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.
With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.
“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.
He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”
With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.
A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.
The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.
After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”
And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.
***
The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.
No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.
“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”
A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.
There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.
Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.
“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.
“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.
The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”
With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.
“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.
You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”
Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”
A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.
With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”
The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.
You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.
His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.
Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.
“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”
His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.
When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”
Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.
All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.
Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.
“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.
When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.
For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”
You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”
Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”
With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.
“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”
He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.
“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”
His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.
His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.
“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.
Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”
The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.
“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.
Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.
Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.
“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”
You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”
“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”
You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.
In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.
His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”
A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”
Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.
With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.
***
The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.
A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?
Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.
“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.
You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.
He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.
It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.
Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.
By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.
You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”
Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”
“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”
A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.
You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.
“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”
Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.
For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.
“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.
A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.
Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.
“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”
Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.
“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”
A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”
Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”
“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”
You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.
“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”
A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.
When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.
“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”
In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.
There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.
Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.
You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.
Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.
Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.
The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”
His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.
It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.
“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.
“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.
You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.
When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.
You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.
It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.
Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”
In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.
In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.
Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.
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LN4 | Dutch Courage
Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.
Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader
WC: 2.9K
Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption
Masterlist
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The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.
And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.
Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.
“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.
Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”
Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.
“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”
“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”
Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 
It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.
“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 
“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”
Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”
“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.
“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.
“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 
They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 
Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.
Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”
“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.
Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.
Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.
Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.
The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.
It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.
Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.
“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.
“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 
“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.
Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”
Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.
The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.
When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.
Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 
Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.
He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.
Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.
Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.
“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.
“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.
Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.
When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.
“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..
Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.
Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.
At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.
They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 
Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.
When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 
She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.
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sugojosgf · 3 days
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not so nice! nanami req can you write reader using the safe word with him ????
using your safeword with nanami
degradation + smut + comfort + mentions of sexual harassment
nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this ,,, you've said so multiple times.
but sometimes he can go overboard.
like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.
"k-kento! s'too much,,—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.
he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.
"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"
your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised,,,you loved it when he talked to you like this.
something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.
it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.
"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.
"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.
"kento! stop,,, red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.
it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.
"my sweet girl,,, i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.
he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.
"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.
"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart.,,," he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.
he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.
"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day,,,i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.
"oh,,,pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you,,." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.
"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."
you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.
bonus <3:
not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.
not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.
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Text
Bucky finding out that you have a thing for his vibranium arm
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out you love his vibranium arm.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, praise kink, vibranium arm kink, use of name calling/pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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You watched intensely as Bucky cleaned his vibranium arm, not able to take your eyes off of it. You licked your lips and bit your bottom lip. You felt your panties dampen the more you watched him. You couldn’t help but wonder what he can do to you with it.
“I can feel you staring, doll.” Bucky says, not looking up.
“I’m not staring at you.” You say.
“Then what are you staring at?” He asks.
You didn’t say anything. You continued to stare at his vibranium arm. Bucky looked at you and followed your gaze to his vibranium arm. A smirk grew on his face.
“You like my arm?” He asks.
“Mhmm.” You hummed, almost moaning.
Bucky leaned forward, his face inches from yours. You shivered when you felt the cool vibranium against your cheek. His vibranium thumb rubbed across your bottom lip. You stuck your tongue out just enough to lick his thumb. Bucky watched closely, his cock growing hard. He pulled you in for a hungry kiss. His tongue licked across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth, exploring every inch of your mouth. He moved his lips down your jaw to your neck. His teeth biting your skin hard enough for a hickey.
“Take your shorts and panties off.” He whispers in your ear.
You stood up from the couch, taking your shorts and panties off in one go. You sat back down on the couch and leaned back on your elbows, spreading your legs to show Bucky how wet you are. He moved closer to you. His vibranium fingers rubbed your pussy, smearing your slick around. You gasped, feeling the cool vibranium on your pussy.
“Tell me, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “Does my vibranium arm turn you on?” He asks.
“Yes… so much.” You breathed.
His vibranium thumb rubbed your clit in circles while his middle and ring fingers collected some of your slick and slid them in your pussy. You lips parted, a soft moan fell from your lips.
“Bucky…” You moaned.
You couldn’t help but stare at his vibranium hand in between your legs while his fingers moved in and out of your pussy and his thumb rubbed your clit. You voluntarily spread your legs wider to give him more access.
“If I didn’t know any better…” Bucky curls his fingers, making you gasp. “I’d say you have a kink for my vibranium arm, doll.” He says.
You couldn’t speak. All you could do is nod your head. That wasn’t a good enough answer for Bucky cause that earned you a smack on your inner thigh, making you yelp.
“Use your big girl words.” He says.
“Yes!” You moaned. “I have a kink for your vibranium arm!” You managed to say without moaning.
Bucky smirked to himself. He sped up his fingers and applied more pressure to your clit with his thumb. Pleasure quickly took over your body. Your chest rose and fell due to you breathing heavily. Your hands scrambled to grab onto something. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, your nails digging in the fabric of the couch.
“Oh fuck, Bucky!” You moaned, arching your back in pleasure.
Bucky licked his lips when he seen your nipples poking their the material of your tank top. He couldn’t take it anymore. His right hand grabbed onto the neckline of your tank top and ripped it off your body, throwing the ripped material somewhere in the living room. You couldn’t care less that he ripped it off. He placed his right hand on your stomach and slid it up your body, stopping at your breasts. His thumb rubbed over your nipple before giving it a squeeze, making your cunt squeeze around his vibranium fingers. He repeated his actions on your other breast, earning the same reaction from you. A loud moan left your lips when he curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. You moved your hips at the same time his thrusted in and out of you.
“You really are a slut for my vibranium arm, aren’t you, babydoll?” Bucky says.
“Yes!” You say more in a gasp. “I’ve always been a slut for you!” You moaned.
The sound of your moans went straight to his cock. His cock was hard that it felt uncomfortable in his jeans. He needs to fuck you as soon as you cum on his fingers. He sped up his fingers even more if it’s even possible, his fingers repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. You felt your lower abdomen tighten. Your legs began to shake with the amount of pleasure you were receiving.
“C’mon, doll.” He urges you on. “The faster you cum, I’ll fuck you.” He says.
His fingers curled one last time before you came hard, soaking his vibranium fingers. Some of it got on your thighs and Bucky’s jeans. Bucky gave your clit a particularly rough rub before he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. You laid on the couch panting while Bucky licked your release off his vibranium fingers. You watched closely as Bucky stood up and take his shirt off, revealing his perfectly sculpted body.
“You’re in for a long night, doll face.” Bucky says, unbuckling his belt.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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emyladia · 2 days
Text
I want you back... | L. Nr
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pairing : lando norris x f!reader
summary : you and lando had broke up a few months ago and you're just now moving on. Or so you thought... 'Cause that was before he decide to text you.
genre : fluff, slightly angst ?
warning : cursing, pretty sure that's all
a/n : I just loooove writting about lando. This is kinda shitty but it was fun to write hope you'll enjoy it ! Anyways taking request if you want.
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You were fine, of course the break up has been really tough for you but now you could say it loud and proud : you were over it.
What a lie...
All it took was a damn text for your world to fall into piece again.
"Hey"
It was 3 AM when you screen lit up, and now that single word was making you completly crazy.
What the hell ? Why would he be texting you ? Maybe a wrong number ? Was he drunk ?
Your head was just a huge mess at the moment, that's probably because of that that you decided to answer. You clearly wouldn't have if you were in your plain consciousness.
At least that's what you were trying to convinced you.
"Hey" You text back.
"It's been a while" He answered in less than a minute.
"WTF lando ?" You couldn't help but send, this wasn't making any sense.
He was the one to broke up with you, and he hadn't even try to contact you the past months. Why would he texts you ? And why now when you were finally moving on ?
"I miss you"
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You had turn off your phone after this text.
Like what were you supposed to say ? That you too you were missing him ? That in fact you were missing him so damn much it was hurting you ? That you were missing him so bad that sometimes you were calling your male friends by his name ?
You just couldn't answered that.
You were having lunch with your a few friends, yet the text just wouldn't leave your mind.
You had basically stared at it the whole morning.
"Hey, you're okay y/n ?" One of your friend asked.
"Oh yeah sorry I was just lost in my thoughts" You tried to brush it off, chuckling a little.
"You seem a bit off today, no offense but we've barely heard you" Another one of your friend spoke with a concern look on her face.
They were all nodding, as you sighed.
You should probably just told them, theywere your closest friends and it's not like you could keep that to yourself anyway.
"Lando texted me" You blurted out looking down.
A loud silence followed your confession as you saw all their eyes widened in shock.
"I'm sorry WHAT ?" One of them finally spoke.
"Lando in like LANDO ?" Another continued.
And they all followed, throwing questions at you.
You showed them the conversation, way easier and they all gasped at the last text.
"What are you gonna do ? You should probably block him" Your friend said, they seemed tp all agree.
"Yeah I should do that" You nodded.
They were probably right, that was the best things to do. They were the one who had picked you up piece by piece when Lando broke up with you.
You were gonna do just that, blocked him and he would be out of your life forever.
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God you were so weak.
When you went home and were about to block him another text illuminated your screen.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, you're not mad are you ?"
You swear your fingers had just moved on their own.
"I'm not mad, I was just busy sorry" You replied, and you knew you had fucked up, that needed to stop and yet you were encouraging him.
"I'm so relieved to hear that ! How you're doing ?"
Damn why was he answering so fast.
"Just casual life nothing too entertaining, you ?"
"Pretty much the same"
It was gonna be fine, it was a simple discussion between two young adults. Nothing to worry about.
"The paddock feels empty without you" He added.
Shit. This wasn't fine at all.
"Is that so ?" You were kicking your feet like a damn teenager.
"Yeah, can't win a race without you" You knew, and he knew this was border, but to be honest you weren't caring at all.
"Can't win a race at all" You joked, you were giggling. God you've missed talking to him, even for simple discussion like that.
You shouldn't felt that way, or you were gonna end up sad again, but you couldn't help it.
"OFFENSIVE" He texted back, but you knew he was laughing.
You and Lando kept talking for hours, you were smiling at your phone like a maniac.
He was such a good talker, smooth, funny, full of charm.
He knew how to annoy you and how to make you laugh the most. He also knew how to hurt you the most.
You were currently laying in bed, watching 'pretty woman' when you got another text from your ex boyfriend.
"I really do miss you tho"
Here you were again, staring at the screen like it contained the answer to the greatest mystery on earth.
"Lando, stop that please" You eventually texted back after a few minutes.
"That what ?"
"That thing that you're currently doing, trying to make me pity you"
"Is it working ?"
"Lando..."
"Cmon y/n I'm serious, I fucking miss you, every minute of every day"
You were no longer paying any attention to the movie that was still playing on the screen of your laptop.
"YOU chosed to broke up" You remembered him.
"I know I made a damn mistake, and I'm sorry"
"You know what I don't even want to talk you anymore"
"Y/n don't do that"
"I should have blocked you already"
"But you didn't"
You were infuriating, completly messed up by too many emotions at the same time, you were sad, and angry against him, and against you too cause you were so weak for this man.
He was right, you didn't.
"Babe please, I just want you back" He sent you a few minutes later since you weren't answering.
"Should have thought about that sooner, and don't call me that"
"I'd do anything" He insisted.
"Claim me on TV and I'll think about it" You texted saracstically before turning off your phone.
You and lando had never been public, because fans could be crazy at some times and you were finding it absolutly ridiculous to brag on social media that you were in a relationship.
That's why you had said that, that wasn't making anysense. Maybe now he'll understand that this was definitly over.
Or so you thought.
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When you woke up your phone was blowing up with notification.
A lot of demands on instagram and hundreds of texts from your friends.
You were so confused until you clicked on the link your friend had sent you.
It was an interview of Lando that he hade just done but the views were already so high. Why would she send you that ?
Everything become clear when right before ending the interview Lando spoke :
"Actually I want to say something before leaving, I used to date a girl Y/n Y/l/n, she was amazing but I messed up with her cause I was a complete idiot... So if you're ever seeing this please come back, I know I've been an asshole. But I really want you back"
What.
In.
The.
World.
Was.
Happenning.
You grabbed your phone and dialed his number immediatly... No answer.
"What have you done ???" You tyepd agressively on your keyboard completly freacked out.
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jareaul0ver · 2 days
Text
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Opposites Attract
Summary: You and Nika share a class and sit next to each other. Shes always teasing you, saying you're nerdy, while you always tease her, calling her a stereotypical jock.
wc: 1.6k warnings: none really, mostly fluff, a bit of enemies to lovers if you squint pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader
im trying this in a bit of a different style bc i feel like it fits the best! lmk if you guys like it or not
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"What a nerd." "Nerd? At least I'm not a meathead."
When you first got paired with Nika for your class seating assignments, you were less than thrilled. Being with the class jock was not something you were looking forward to. You assumed she was all looks and brawn, no brain.
She felt the exact same way. She couldn't believe that she was stuck with some loser nerd. At least she'd have you to rely on for projects when basketball kept her too busy, and left her too exhausted to do anything but collapse in her bed.
You were working on your first project together, and you decided to meet up in the library. When Nika finally arrived, you had your laptop out and your nose in a book. She, on the other hand, was sweaty and exhausted from practice.
"Sorry I'm late. Coach had us run at the end of practice." She plopped her bag into the chair next to her and sat down.
"Mm, alright." You mumbled, keeping focus on the project.
She stared at you for a moment before sighing. "Are you gonna end up doing this whole thing all yourself?"
You tore your eyes away from your screen and stopped typing to look at her. "Not if you show up on time tomorrow."
She rolled her eyes. "Can't help it if practice runs late."
You scoffed. "You could've texted me, we could've rescheduled."
"Whatever." She muttered as she pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it up to the document you were busy typing away at. Her eyes widened when she saw almost a whole page finished already. "You've done this much in the twenty minutes I wasn't here?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Jesus, what a nerd."
You deadpanned. "Nerd? At least I'm not a meathead."
She took a deep breath and shook her head before forcing herself to focus on the project, the two of you being civil for your rest of the time in the library.
"Nerd." "Meathead." "Dork." "Jock."
You smiled at Nika as she sat down next to you. She flashed a bright smile at you. "Hey, nerd."
Your eyes rolled playfully. "Hey, meathead."
Your class started and the professor taught her lesson. Nika thought it would be better to mess with you than pay attention, though. She scribbled something messily on a sticky note and stuck it right onto your notes page.
You sighed and read it. 'wanna hang out later?'
She glanced at you with a hopeful smile as you quickly wrote something back, passing it back over to her. 'can't. studying and homework for other classes :('
Nika drew a frowny face and passed it back to you. You smiled a little at it, and resumed taking notes. But she wasn't finished.
She pulled out another sticky note and wrote on it again, passing it back over to you. 'pleaseeeee? i know you wanna'
A long sigh escaped your lips as you wrote an answer and gave it back to her. 'i have too much to do tonight, sorry. and pay attention before you flunk out'
She smiled and whispered to you. "I'm not gonna flunk out, I've got my favorite dork to help me."
You shook your head. "I'm not a dork, first of all. Second, you're such a stereotypical jock, always asking the smart kid in class for help."
A quite laugh escaped her lips. It sounded like a melody to your ears.
Your professor didn't find it as endearing as you did, however. "Girls, focus." Her eyes landed on the two of you before she turned back around.
The two of you giggled together quietly.
Later than night, you were doing exactly what you told Nika you would be. A mountain of papers and books surrounded you on the floor. You had flashcards laid out everywhere. You were drowning in work, and you were ready for a break, but you only had to study for one more class.
Fortunately a break soon arrived when you heard knocking on your door. You stood up with a groan and walked over, the hair in your ponytail practically falling out, bags under your eyes from the countless hours of work you've done today.
You opened the door and Nika was standing there, a plastic takeout bag in her hand. "Thought you'd need a break tonight, I brought food."
You stared at her for a moment before smiling and pulling her inside. "You are a godsend, Nika Muhl." You grabbed the bag from her hand and set it on your desk.
Nika stood behind you, looking at all your studying materials sprawled on the floor. "Jesus, how long have you been doing this for?"
"Uh, a few hours. Nothing too bad."
"A few hours? Without a break?" She scoffed.
You turned around and looked at her. "How did you know I haven't taken a break?"
She grinned at you as she took in your appearance. "By just looking at you." You were disheveled and simply looked exhausted.
"Wow, rude." You feigned offense and placed your hand on your chest.
She laughed softly and took a step towards you. "But seriously, you need a break. You're gonna wear yourself out." She brushed a lose strand of hair out of your face.
"Guess all that studying together paid off, hm?" "Guess so. Maybe hanging with a nerd isn't that bad."
It was finals week and you had been working your ass off. Late night after late night of studying with Nika had you both prepared for your exam.
Per Nika's rules, you had to take a mandatory fifteen minute break every forty-five minutes. She refused to let you overwork yourself, and for once, you agreed. You could tell she was exhausted too. She was balancing academics and her playoff games, on top of hours long practices.
You had also implemented a reward system. While doing flashcards, for every three questions one of you got right, you got to ask the other person a question. That was when you found out Nika was gay.
"That's three, I get to ask you something now." You stared at her as you sat across from her on the floor of her dorm.
"Go for it." She smiled at you.
You thought for a moment. You had already asked her about Croatia, her teammates and friends, but not anything romantically. "Ooh, I got one. Do you have a boyfriend? Or are your eyes on any guy in particular?"
She stared at you for a moment before laughing. Your brows furrowed. "What? Why are you laughing?"
"It's just funny." She took a deep breath. "How you looked at me and thought I was straight."
Your lips parted. "You're..?" She nodded. "Oh." You squeaked quietly, your face heating up. "I-I didn't mean to assume, I just figured... y'know."
"I don't think I do."
You sighed. "I just assumed you only liked guys, I dunno."
"Well I don't." She smiled. "Only like guys, that is."
"Right." You smiled a little back at her, your gazes lingering on the others for a moment too long to be considered only friendly. You cleared your throat and looked down at the notecard in your hand. "Back to studying."
She didn't look away from you. She couldn't pull her eyes away from you.
It was the day that exam test scores were going to be released. You sat anxiously in the lecture hall, in your regular seat next to Nika. Your leg was bobbing up and down as the professor explained that only two students exceled with her exam, and you prayed that one of them was you.
Nika had her eyes on you, analyzing everything you were doing. She noticed the bobbing of your leg, but also the tight grip you held on your phone, and the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth.
"Hey." She said quietly as she reached out, placing her hand on your knee to help calm you down. Your gaze darted up to meet hers, and her expression was soft. "I promise that you did amazing."
You swallowed nervously. "But what if I didn't? What if I totally bombed it and-"
She gently squeezed your leg. "You didn't bomb it. I know you didn't. Take a deep breath." You did. You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes as you let it out. "There you go."
She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and you relaxed a bit at her touch. You leaned your head against her, closing your eyes, and hoping for the best.
The professor called everyone down one by one, handed them the paper with their grade, and dismissed them from the class to look at it. Nika had already been called, and when you were, it took you a second to snap back into reality.
You went down and collected your paper, then quickly left the room. You rounded a corner and saw no one around you, unsure of where Nika disappeared to.
You took a deep breath before opening the paper and looking at your grade. You had gotten a 98, the highest grade in the class. You let out the breath you were holding and leaned your head back. "Thank god." You said quietly.
"Everything okay?" Nika's voice came from behind you.
You spun around with a smile on your face. "I got a 98!"
She smiled at you before moving forward and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a hug. "Holy shit! I got a 93!" You hugged her back and smiled brightly against her neck.
You pulled back to look at her, and in a wave of emotions, crashed your lips against hers. She froze for a second before reciprocating the kiss, causing you to stumble backwards a bit.
The both of you giggled and your rested your foreheads against each other's. "Guess all that studying together paid off, hm?" You grinned.
"Guess so." She pecked your lips. "Maybe hanging with a nerd isn't that bad."
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i really hope you guys like this one!! i loved writing this sm that i wrote it practically within the same sitting on the same day that I got the request. thank you anon for sending this in!!
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yyawnjun · 3 days
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GETTING USED TO US
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biker!mingyu x reader ; summary an unexpected confession between really fast beating hearts ; 1k wc ; fluff !! ; third date w mingyu, nd they're so wipped for each other 🗣 ; likes comments and reblogs are really appreciated ; hope y'all like this mwah ♡ @kflixnet
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the wind tickled your face and moved your hair back, you took deep breaths in all your lungs. you moved your arms up, stretching them as much as possible, closed your eyes, and breathed.
with these breathing control exercises, and combined with other concentration activities - you tried to concentrate just on one object and describe it as much as possible - you wanted to occupy your attention while waiting for mingyu. it would be your third date, and he promised you that he would pick you on the motorbike. his motorbike. the one that not even his closest friends (according to wonwoo) had ever managed to even touch. that's why you were nervous about that night, along with the fact that you really liked that boy.
you were waiting for the boy outside your house at 9 p.m., dressed comfortably but elegantly (mingyu promised to take care of the necessary clothing on the motorbike). you were trying to focus on the background music of the bar next door to block out the distracting thoughts that were racing through your head.  
all your stoic resistance suddenly collapsed when you noticed from afar a tall boy, with dark and slightly long hair, waving at you with a smile. he arrived carrying a bag and one with a motorcycle helmet. before you knew it, he came close to you, and looked at you through eyes that were filled with a thousand different emotions, shining through like lights in a completely dark sky. you were briefly startled back to reality by the gleam in his eyes, but it was short-lived as he called your name. "hey yn, sorry for my late. have you waited a long time for me?"
"not much. you gave me time to prepare me psychologically" you replied, nodding and looking towards his helmet. he smiled at you, and shortly after you naturally started walking towards where he had parked the motorbike. "is this your first time on a motorbike?" he asked you "I remember I had tried it once, but it was less powerful than yours"
"oh I see, you scared?"
"no," you replied convinced. "look, I see you smiling and opening your eyes wide. now I know how to recognize when you're lying" he replied amusedly. you were about to answer him, but just then you noticed that your eyes were really wide… you giggled and agreed with him. a few seconds later, you arrived at the motorcycle. it was bright red and appeared much larger in real person than in the pictures. mingyu instantly gave you a motorcycle jacket and a helmet that fit you perfectly.
“here, let me help you close it,” he told you while you were busy fixing your helmet. then you saw the boy leaning down and gently pulling the laces to close the helmet. he was almost on his knees on the ground, checking that the helmet was not too tight and that its length was right for turning on the headphones that would be connected to it during the trip. you remained stayed and barely swallowed so as not to make too much noise. just proximity had already allowed you to detect the pleasant and refreshing perfume that distinguished him. "perfect, we can go," he said as he immediately got up and put on his helmet. (it's pointless to recall how enchanted you were watching him as he closed his own helmet...)
he got on first and signaled for you to get on, so you did. lifting your left leg first, and helping yourself with your hands resting on the saddle you quickly climbed up. he still had his legs on the ground and the motorbike was spent. after getting in, you instinctively lean against his back. due to the poor visibility given by the helmet, you hadn't realized how big his back was and how well-defined his muscles were, despite them being hidden by the motorcycle jacket. “you can hold on to me…” you heard directly in your ears. you immediately understood that it was due to the Bluetooth headphones that connected the two helmets. “…or there is a handle behind which you can hold” mingyu finished the sentence.
"all right," you replied placing your arms around his waist, and your hands gently on his hips.
"are you ready?" he asked you. "let's go" you replied convinced and unconsciously squeezing your hands at his sides making him give in to that contact.
noise and lights. mingyu lifts his legs from the ground, lowers his helmet visor, and takes off. and so you left. You went through the city, till you reached more rural places and long trails between the fields.
the speed increased as soon as you arrived there. you felt your heart racing, but you were getting used to the adrenaline-fueled sensation. the tension in your hold had gradually relaxed, and the wind on you made you feel more alive than ever. "woah," you said without realizing it, out of joy.
in response, you heard his laugh and a slight increase in speed. that speed made us feel it, but your feeling of safety returned as soon as you leaned on the boy with your helmet. you wanted to talk and express the thousand emotions that had gripped you at that moment. "MINGYU THIS IS FANTASTIC OH MY GOD" 
"you'll have to get used to it," he replied
“yeah...I think I might get used to it"
"is that a yes?" the boy asked you with a seemingly confident voice. "are you asking me to get used to your bike or you?"
"to us"
and for the umpteenth time that day, that boy made your heart beat wildly.
"yes mingyu. it is a yes"
And as you rushed through the night, the stars witnessed that lovely first manifestation of you both.
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yunnuys · 2 days
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Choso Kamo
(〃ω〃) jus sweet boyfriend Choso
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Choso who has never been in a relationship before until you.
Choso who looks up things like “how to kiss” and “how to pleasure my partner” and when he gets caught you can’t help but giggle but also reassure him that there’s nothing to be ashamed of.
He’s so in love with you too and it’s evident in the way he basically has heart eyes every time you speak.
“Are you even listening to me Cho?”
“Sorry… you’re just so pretty.”
Choso who studies your likes, dislikes, and your body language so he can always be one step ahead of you.
“Why’d you get me flowers, are we celebrating anything special?”
“No.. uh- you just didn’t give me a kiss before you fell asleep last night, thought you were mad at me.”
Choso who drops anything he’s doing to tend to your needs. Whether it’s some food that you want at 3 am or just need him with you.
Can’t ever say no to you so if you want to take silly photo booth pictures or wear those matching “I ♡ my boyfriend/girlfriend” tshirts. He’s agreeing with a dopey smile in his face.
Choso who’s soooo clingy, if you’re somewhere then trust he’s two steps behind.
“Where are you going?”
“Can I come with?”
Do you need me to accompany you?”
“Did you know that couples who do everything together are guaranteed to stay together forever?” (He made that up)
Choso who likes to do your hair so it matches his, he even learns how to make it work if you have a different hair type.
His favourite thing to do is scroll through social media since you made him an account. He likes to tests the phrases he learns on you.
“Baby… you’re so cute I wanna eat you up.”
You look at him like he’s crazy and ask if that’s something new he learned.
“Yes! I learn it’s something called “cuteness aggression” you know? When you wanna squeeze the life outta something cause it’s so cute. That’s me with you.” (*≧∀≦*)
He never raises his voice at you, even when he’s really upset.
Choso who will let you guys switch shoes if your heels start to make your feet hurt. So then you’ll have to suppress your giggles while he struggles to walk. He doesn’t complain at all though.
Talks about you to his brothers alllll the time.. or just anyone who’s willing to listen.
When someone asks how he managed to get with someone like you his answer is always:
“I ask myself that everyday.. I’m so lucky.”
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brodieland · 2 days
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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Royal Rivalries !! ´ˎ˗
Luke Castellan x Fem!Zeus!reader Synopsis: It was the day of your 'contest for suitors' but a recurring man, one you detest, wins the contest Tags: Royalty AU, cursing, a suicide joke but nothing to crazy Word Count: 2592
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"Ouch," you cried out. "I can barely breathe here!!"
"I'm so sorry princess, but we need to tighten your corset just a bit further" your maid, Margaret, apologized. You rolled your eyes and inhaled as much as you could, finally allowing her to finish tightening your godforsaken corset.
"Never been happier to give up the life that was completely laid out from me," your older sister Thalia laughed from your bed. "Fighting is so much cooler than being a baby factory."
"Hey! I'm not becoming a baby factory, just one for the kingdom to continue. And be glad I so graciously stepped up on your behalf," you crossed your arms.
"Yeah, yeah, love you too," she smiled as she stood to stand next to you in the mirror. "But you know you don't mind being married."
"I want to marry someone for love, not from some 'contest of suitors,'" you groaned. "Doubt I'm gonna fall in love by the end of the night, probably gonna start hating more people if anything."
"Stop acting like you hate so many people, you so cute and loving!!"
"Oh my gods stop. You know I hold my grudges, like Leo and Jason stealing all the lamb puffs!! Let's remember I only forgave Jason because he's our brother," you exclaimed. "And don't you laugh at me you know those are my favorites."
"Hey," she raised her hands. "No laughing here, I love those too."
You both stood in the mirror admiring yourselves. Thalia didn't like wearing dresses, but she still dressed nicely for your big day. You on the other hand were absolutely dressed to the nines. You had a long and poofy dress, it white and covered with Greek inspired gold accents. Despite how cute the dress was, the corset was stopping your circulation while simultaneously making your boobs look amazing, yet still classy. It was the pure definition of give a little - get a little.
"My gorgeous sister, anyone of those bogus princes will be lucky to have you."
"I mean isn't this just a formality? I don't actually have to marry any of them, right?"
Thalia gave you one of her looks, and you already knew the answer. You sighed as you hear a knock at the door, "Come in!"
The door creaked open, revealing your younger brother Jason. "C'mon Y/N, its time."
Thalia squeezed your shoulder before you both walked towards Jason. The three of you made your way to the entrance of the ballroom. Jason stood to your right as Thalia was on your left, the three of you had your arms interlocked as you listened to your father, Zeus, announced you to the suitors below while you walked down the stairs.
As you made it to the bottom, they left your side as the room clapped and you curtsied. Everyone went to their conversations and princes would slowly approach, one you recognized, Leo Valdez!
"Aw, are you and my little brother here to steal more lamb puffs," you joked, though were you really joking?
"C'mon, we were just kids, can we be excused," he laughed.
"Maybe one day, but do it at this party and all bets are off," you pointed your finger in his face. "Anyways, you too young to marry me, what're you doing here."
"I'll take any chance to hang out with my boy Jason, you know how it is. And we'll try not to eat all your food, princess fa-"
"Watch yourself," you playfully glared as you fluffed around his hair and walked off. The rest of the night consisted of many different men coming up to you trying to flirt and claim your hand in marriage, and it was tiring. They come up to you as if they were entitled to, for your time and effort, but not once did they ever ask you about yourself!! It was all me, me, me. YAWN!!
You saw Thalia standing off to the side with her friend Reyna, as you approached them you called out, "Thalia, Reyna."
"Whats up," you sister asked as they both turned to you.
"Please cover me, I need some fresh air without some 'bogus prince' up my ass for three seconds," you pleaded as the two girls laughed.
"We got you," Reyna smiled.
"Yeah go away sis," Thalia shooed and you silently thanked her. You slightly lifted the front of your dress, allowing you to scurry off a little faster. You tried being secretive about your dismissal, but being dressed like a giant snowball (if the gold was yellow snow, that sounds gross), made it quite difficult. Though of course you managed.
You dashed down an unreasonably long hallway till you made it to the balcony that overlooked the massive garden behind the palace. The greenery was absolutely serene, what would you would give to be down there right not, not looking from above on a terrace.
As you stood leaning over the edge, you felt the cool air running through your hair as the moonlight glinted off your tiara. Being a princess was cool, but you didn't know if you were ready for marriage, you were freshly 18. You were knocked out of your thoughts as you heard the door open from behind you.
You dropped your head, "Sorry dad, I just wanted some fresh air."
"Dad? Don't think I'm old enough for an 18 year old daughter," you recognized that voice as you internally groaned. You slowly turned your head and saw a figure standing just behind you. He was tall, with dark curly hair and big brown eyes, but oh my did you wish it was your dad.
"Luke," you said firmly as you turned back around.
"Princess Y/N," he stood next to you, staring off at the garden just as you were. "Now why are you out here and not with your suitors?"
"I wanted a breathe of fresh air away from all the heinous flirting, but as it seems," you looked at him up and down, distastefully, "it follows me everywhere."
"Oh, so you think I'm here for your hand in marriage, that's quite an audacious take is it not?"
"Your in my territory Castellan, one wrong move and I push you off this balcony and claim suicide," he let out an elegant laugh that made an imaginary irk mark appear above your forehead.
"Wow, you really still don't like me?"
"Nope."
"C'mon, we were just kids, you know that."
"And you humiliated me, you know that," you spat out.
Why did you not like Luke? While the two of you were younger, around 14, the both of you were betrothed by your parents. Luke was one of your closest friends, but when it came to the topic of marriage, he was cold and distant, and you couldn't help your adolescent self. You had a minor crush on the boy, 'nothing too serious,' at least that's what you told yourself. Except when a princess of Aphrodite played a foolish tricked, and got him to kiss her, the two were deemed to have more chemistry and better potential for the future of the kingdoms, whatever that meant, and your engagement was nulled.
Most people knew of your crush on Luke, and everyone who did also watched as he completely ditched you for a princess of Aphrodite. You were the talk among kingdoms, and pitied for months. 'Oh poor, princess Y/N, how that Hermes prince completely broke her heart.' It was enraging, that day you decided you didn't want another arranged marriage for convenience, but a marriage for love, thought at this point life didn't seem to be going in your favor.
"Why are you even here," you asked coldly. "You know I don't want to see you."
"Maybe I just wanted to stop by, say hello," you looked at him, you face contorted in a manner that showed him that this was a confusing thing for him to do, considering the history.
"I meant why are you here at all, as in you're already engaged. Isn't you wedding coming up soon?"
"The engagement was broken off," he said. You looked at him and smirked. "Well don't look too excited about it."
"Karma is truly a bitch, is it not?"
"She fell in love with a Hephaestus prince. Sucks, she was gorgeous was she not," it was now his turn to smirk, causing your anger to bubble to the surface as you glared at him.
"You haven't answered me," you shoved his chest. "Why. Are. You. Here."
"Hey no pushing," he looked down at you. "I was just wondering if we could give this whole engagement and marriage thing another shot?"
"You're unbelievable, you cheat on me and manage to get my name dragged through the 12 major kingdoms, and still have the audacity to come back when things don't work out the way you planned??"
"C'mon, we both know you had a crush me back then, why bother going through more insufferable trial and errors with other princes when you've already gotten to know and fallen for this prince right here once before," he question as he raised his hand, rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip in a kindly and romantic manner. "You know, you've grown into a beautiful woman, in many different ways if I may add."
You stared as him through your eyelashes as your boobs were threatening to spill from your corset, which was what he was referring to in his 'many different ways.' The nerve of this man.
"The past is the past," you swatted his hand away. "Screw you, you royal courtesan."
You heard him whistle as you threw the doors open and left him behind. You suddenly felt that the party was better than being stuck alone with the insufferable Castellan boy. Except he ran up to catch up to you.
"My dear princess, why can't you just forgive me," he cooed as you tried rushing off, finding great difficulty in your dress and heels.
"I will not be seen as an easy woman with no backbone, just because you may think you have a way with your words, I have no issue throwing you down those stairs," you said as you pointed toward the stairs, then you realized, you were pointing at the stairs. You were now back in front of the party, but your anger could no longer be contained, no matter how many eyes were beginning to dart your way.
"Calm down princess, you're supposed to stay contained in front of your suitors, you may scare them aware," his words were dripping with arrogance, the bastard. You couldn't help yourself, you slapped him, leaving a red hand mark on his cheek. Gasps erupted from the crowd, some small chuckles here and there, though they quickly died.
"I don't care whom I scare aware, I don't know who you think you are, but this is my Kingdom, you conceited harlot."
You then threw off your heals and picked up as much of your dress as possible and ran up the stairs, no longer caring about the party. You knew you were gonna catch hell from your father, but you didn't care if he struck you down with his lightning, you could no longer stand to stay in the room with all these thickheaded princes, especially one in specific. Thalia ran up behind you, helping drag your dress as you rushed to your room.
You slammed the door behind you as she started, "What the hell happened?"
"That stupid Hermes prince, thinking he could just waltz back into my home and act like he can "reclaim" me. After what I was put through??" You were pacing the room as you grabbed a pillow to shove your face into, and yelled.
"That little dick," Thalia shook her head. 15 minuted passed when the door slammed open, it was your father, Zeus.
"Now what made you thinking slapping prince Castellan in front of all those people was appropriate in any way, shape, or form," he bellowed, but you couldn't be bother to bring yourself in, or to speak with respect.
"I did what I felt was right, its not my problem he's an absolute bitch!"
"That language is unbecoming of a princess! And I will not stand by as you disrespect your now fiancé."
"Excuse me? What the fuck, are you talking about?"
"It was the only way we could fix your outburst," he reasoned, though he didn't sound like he cared about reasoning. You knew he wanted to marry you off, and how upset he was about the engagement first being nulled.
"Yeah, the only way without paying, you're just greedy and you use your kids to take the easy way out," you argued. Thalia just sat back, mouth agape at the scene in front of her.
"Who gave you the right to speak to me this way, I give you everything, and I can take it away at the snap of my fingers if you even dare to try and back out of this marriage. Be. Careful."
You both stared at one another in anger, you hands were balled into tight fists as you knew what your father was capable offend you knew you had to back down. You didn't want to seem like a woman with no backbone? Pathetic, if the crowd could see you now. "Fine."
You felt weak, that's how your fathers presence always made you feel. "Now," he started. "Your going to go back down and apologize."
You softly nodded, with the feeling of defeat washing over you, as you walked back toward the party. People seemed to be going back to talking, but quickly shushed as they noticed you making your way right back down the stairs. You scanned the room, and saw Luke standing by his father, Hermes, with a shit eating grin on his face.
You were tempted to not be bothered to apologize, but you had no choice. Time to go apologize to your new fiancé!!
"Hello to my new fiancé," he said in such an egotistical manner. "Anything you'd like to say to me?"
Gasps were heard among the crowd upon hear the word, 'fiancé.' "I'd like to apologize for my earlier actions, they were unbecoming for a princess, and disrespectful to do against my future husband."
You didn't meet his eyes once, keeping your eyes to the side or the floor. You knew if you looked at his face, no matter how hot, you'd try to leave behind a black eye. He then took your hand, and planted a light kiss on it, "Why thank you, princess."
You took the moment to pull him into a hug and whispered in his ear, "Disrespect me, and you'll be sorry. I'll strike you down with my lightning till there's absolutely nothing left and no one remembers you."
You separated and he looked at you with his classic, mischievous smirk. "Noted."
"Now if you all excuse me," you addressed the room. "I will now be calling it a night. Goodnight and thank you for coming."
You curtsied and walked off as you noticed Jason walking with you, with your discarded heels in his hand and he helped you back to your room. You were truly getting tired of these ungodly amount of stairs.
"Congratulations on the not-so-new engagement," Jason tried to sound upbeat, but it wasn't working. "No more boring parties I guess."
"I think I'd rather suffer through the parties at this point," you smiled as you leaned on his shoulder.
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osmov5 · 3 days
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"Finally, everything is back to normal."
Aventurine x reader
word count: around 400
Just woke up so sorry for any mistakes<3
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warnings: hurt/comfort?, and fluff, and propably ooc aventurine
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It was exactly two months from when Aventurine left on his mission in Penacony. Two months in which you haven't saw him, and almost two months from when you last heard from him. You only had one message from him to hold on to, the text being the simplest:
"im sorry, love you."
He sended it at night while you were long asleep. When you read it in the morning, confused and worried by the sudden apology, it was already too late. You never got an answer to that. None or the messages you send to him weren't even coming through.
You almost lost hope, the IPC didn't provided you any information either, you were left to wonder what happend to your dear lover.
That was, until last night.
Late in the night, when you were already comfortably tucked on your couch under a blanket you heard the sound of struggling with the keys right outside your door. You jumped up in your spot when the sound turned into someone unlocking the door to your apartament, followed by the sound of the door opening. After being frozen for a moment, you jumped up ready to protect yourself, totally forgetting that the only people who had the key were you and Aventurine. So, you grabbed the closest heavy thing you could reach, in this case a heavy book Aventurine got you for your birthday once, and moved as quietly as possible to the hall, already hearing the front door closing.
"Oh, you're up?" a soft, yet tired sooting voice broke reached your ears when you finally were able to see the intruder. A voice you knew all too well. A voice you missed too much. Your makeshift weapon fell right out of your hand when your eyes fell on his, one of many things you adored about him. A soft chuckle from Aventurine filled your ears when you moved closer to him without thinking, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding yourself as close to him as you could.
Last night his eyes were more tired then usually, and he came home with a few new bruises, but all that mattered was that he came back to you alive. Of course, you questioned him about his wereabouts, getting a tired sigh and "the mission just turned out take longer then i expected, sorry," but that didn't mattered. He would tell you in more details later, he always did.
So now, as you were just stirring from your sleep, feeling the warmth of another person in your arms after so much time, you couldn't feel better. You took care of the bruises on his skin already, so they looked way better already, and the calm expression he had on his face was just putting you more at ease.
Everything was alright. He was alright.
He was finally back in your arms.
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ozuuoou · 3 days
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ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 * .♡ *:・゚
Seishiro Nagi x Reader
Watching your boyfriend shoot bodies on Call of Duty as he shoots fat loads inside you.
(The grind never stops ig)
————————————————————————
"Sorry.. hah.. gotta go, duty calls."
.ᐟ⭒๋࣭☆⋆。𖦹˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚
It was just a normal night: you were reading manga on the bed while your boyfriend, Nagi, played on his PC. Until you got bored, so to cure that boredom, you decided to watch your boyfriend play.
When you approached, he called out, "Hey." "Hi, what are you playing?" you asked, and immediately he replied, "Call of Duty." To which you hummed, "Cool, can I sit?" You asked, pointing to his lap, and he nodded. You leaned back against his chest as you watched the brightly lit screen, showing your boyfriend obliterating players. Amazed, you kept praising his efforts, and as the matches progressed you became more and more excited as you watch the sceen but due to the excitement you felt as he killed each and every one you were subconsciously rubbing the lower regions of your boyfriend's sniper rifle as well.
As you sat back down, he began twitching, leaving you worried. "Baby, are you okay?" you asked. After releasing a few grunts, he answered, "Yeah, baby, I'm fine. Just sit back down, stay put, okay?". For a few seconds you let that sink in and as you sat you could feel his hard length faintly brushing against your thin pajama shorts. "Ah" you said, snickering.
You had a lightbulb moment and you decided to tease him, you intentionally rubbed on it more, earning low grunts and pants from him, and it went on like that. Frustrated from all the edging, he commands, "Mnh.. that's no good, sit on it harder baby" he whispered in your ear, all breathy. Being the good girlfriend you are, you sat. Earning a whimper and a shudder from the snow haired soldier.
— Time skip
Nagi's twitching on his keyboard, seemingly missing his shots and aims. The reason? You bouncing up and down his fat dick of course! How could he not miss? When you're all sprawled out, back arching and both arms quaking, holding on for dear life on his desk taking in massive shots of his thick load. When the two of you were busy on riding the fuck out of him, his teammates were busy shit talking him on the mic as well. Frustrated and distracted, Nagi opened up his mic, "Dude, shut the fuck up. My girlfriend's riding my dick. You're ruining the mood." As he dropped that fucking bomb the room fell silent, but, fortunately you weren't, because you backed him up by moaning like a whore directly to the mic with your pleas and cries as he got down to business and fucked your cunt dry.
"Sorry.. hah.. gotta go, duty calls." the last words Nagi said before leaving the game, as he focused on dominating your wet and stuffed cunt. Bending you over his desk and mercilessly railing in his fat, long and heavy sniper rifle into your walls as if it wasn't already enough.
.ᐟ⭒๋࣭☆⋆。𖦹˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚
Needless to say your pussy got dominated that night. :3
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rafesslxt · 13 hours
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Hiii! I love your work! I was wondering if you could write something where Mattheo and the reader are enemies with sexual tension and one day their friends lock them in a room together and won’t let them out till they fuck and they eventually do?
Thank you!!
Hii love, love the idea, hope u have fun reading. Thank you for your request 🤍☁️
SAY YOU HATE ME | m. riddle
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summary: reader and mattheo hate each other so their friends lock them together in a room
warnings: pure filthy smut!, enemy‘s to lovers, insults, arguing, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, rough, fingering, sucking on fingers, coming inside reader
words: 3,1k
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When Pansy, Draco and Blaise told me they have a suprise for me, I wasn‘t really convinced and sure it was some kind of prank but I also wasn‘t a quitter or a party booper so I sighed and let Pansy put the blindfold over my eyes like she wanted to.
She grabs me by my arm and starts leading me through our common room. We walk for like 5 minutes until they stop and tell me to be quit. I nod and take a deep breath when I hear them open a door. Pansy gently pushes me forwards and I can hear her smile while saying "Have fun you two." My eyebrows furrow together. What does she mean 'you two' ? I hear the door closing behind me with a few giggles so I take my blindfold off and turn towards the door. "What the hell guys?" I yell through the door.
"Oh so that's their plan." I suddenly hear someone say behind me. I spin around, seeing Mattheo Riddle sitting on the edge of a bed. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask him, my eyes looking at him and then around the room we're in.
"First of all, we're in my room , so I could ask you the same. Second, isn't it obvious to you what they're trying to do?" "Oh hell no!" Angry I walk back to the door and bang against it with my hands. "Pansy! let me out!" I hear them whispering behind the door before Lorenzo's voice speaks up. "You two will not get out until you talk about your problems." "Yeah or fuck them out." I hear Draco laughing. "Draco!" Pansy hisses.
"Guy's this isn't funny! I have things to do!" I answer, hoping they would do the right thing. But who am I kidding? "No what really isn't funny is how you two always argue with each other and ruin the vibe in our friend group for years now! So talk or never get out of there!" Blaise answers and I can basically hear him rolling his eyes before they disappear from the door.
I turn around then and look at Mattheo. "This is your fault! I hope you know that." I bitch at him, sitting on the other bed in the room that is Theodore's. He starts laughing and looks at me as If I have 3 heads. "Are you kidding me? If someone is responsible for this then it's you! You're the one who always acts like a bitch to me." "Hm, maybe I wouldn't act like a bitch If you wouldn't be such a pain in the ass with your stupid comments all day long."
He raises his eyebrows and leans forwards, his elbows on his knees now. "Oh you think so? Maybe I wouldn't have to leave stupid comments If you would consider using your brain for even a second."
My eyes widen at his comment. "Excuse me? You're just mad about the fact that I'm the only fucking girl in this school who isn't on her knees for you! Sorry Mattheo, not every woman thinks you're it."
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me, making his curls bounce slightly over his forehead. "This is ridiculous. As If I would even want you to be on your knees for me." I scoff at that. "Yeah why should you, right? Your type is dumb and brainless. Oh sorry, I forgot whore."
I see his face getting red and his jaw clenching. Suddenly he stands and walks over to me until he stands in between my legs, making me widen my eyes at him. He leans forward and speaks "What is your problem y/n? Why are you so fucking nice to everyone, acting like a little angel but are the biggest bitch the next second. Only to me of course. What is it that bugs you so much huh?" he breathes against my face, looking right into my shocked eyes.
"I - I just told you - you're always a pain -" "- in the ass. I know. But Draco is too. And I don't see you bitching at him like you do at me." "That's different. Draco is Pansy's boyfriend and I have respect for that." He scoffs at my excuse and to be honest, he was right. But why should I tell him?
"You know.. I kinda get a feeling, that you do want to be one of them." he starts, looking intensely at my lips. I swallow and look into his dark eyes. "One of who?" A smirk plays on his lips when he gets closer, making me back away a little until I'm just supporting myself with my elbows behind me, his body leaning over mine but not touching it. I feel his body heat around mine, my cheeks getting a little flushed at the warmth. He grins and answers me." " Dumb, brainless... a whore."
I gasp at his comment but before I could protest he speaks again. "Maybe then you would have a chance with me. Maybe that's why you're mad at me. Because your little brain always gets in the way and If it would just shut up for a second, then maybe you would have a chance." My eyes almost get stuck at the back of my head at how hard I just rolled them. "First of all, that doesn't even make sense. And like I said. I don't want you."
Then I feel his right hand on my waist, slowly tracing the bare skin on there due to my short crop top. "Then why are your cheeks blushing? Why aren't you pushing me away? You're so locked into my eyes that you're just laying under me like a little helpless thing." I swallow down the clump in my throat at his words. He'r right? Why am I still under him? Normally I would have smacked the shit out of him.
"See." he starts with a smirk. "You do want this. Me. You're just too stubborn to admit that I get under your skin all the time because you want me." I breath get's stuck in my lungs when I feel his fingers on my waist wandering over my stomach. "And you know what's the worst part of it? I just want you as much as you want me. I wanna taste every single part of your body." he whispers against my lips, now just an inch away from mine. "What?" I whisper back in shock. He want's me? What the hell is going on? Did they slip something in his drink too? Is that the actual prank? Him pretending to want me?
"You heard right.." his lips get away from my face again, switching towards the side of my throat. ".. I want you so fucking bad. And you're making me go crazy with your stupid comments all the time. Every time we're with our friends and you start insulting me, I just want to pull you near the first surface possible and fuck you stupid in front of them." After that his lips meet the skin of my neck, a gasp leaving my lips at the sudden contact. His breath was warm and his lips so so soft. Goosebumps erupt over my whole body instantly.
"Mattheo.." I whisper as a warning, but for what I don't know. "What? Are you scared that I'm right? Scared that you will let those walls down? That you let me take you?" I yelp when he bites down on my neck, leaving a light mark. "Come on.. tell me you hate me."
I want t, but I can't. The words just won't leave my mouth when my eyes start closing at the pleasure he's giving me on my neck. I starts kissing down towards my collarbone, nibbling at my skin here and there. Involuntary I arch my back, pressing my body against his.
His mouth moves down to my cleavage, kissing the top of my breasts. "Fuck you taste so good, y/n. Tell me you want this." I remain silent until he pinches my nipples lightly through my top, a whimper leaving my mouth.
"Tell me you want this too or I will stop. Come on baby." The little hairs on my neck raise when he calls me that. I slowly nod, my eyes still closed. "Words. I need words. And open your eyes for me." I slowly open them, looking right into his when I do so. "Say it.." he whispers against my lips, grazing them with his own. "I - I want you too." I finally say, putting a smirk on his face before he presses his lips against mine, his left hand finding my cheek.
The kiss is passionate and longing, leaving no air in our lungs. "Fuck, this is gonna be so so good." he groans against me, climbing on top of me now fully.
He pushes my legs apart with his knees, settling between them afterwards. When he lets go of my lips, breathing heavy, he works his way down with his mouth again, starting at my chest. I bite down on my lip and let my hands go through his curls, pulling on some strands. He groans when I pull, his hands roaming up my body until he squeezes my tits through my top. They slowly push my top upwards until my chest is completely exposed. He looks down at me and grins satisfied. "Fuck how could you hide that for so long from me baby? You're killing me." he groans and I see him pushing his hips down against the mattress for some friction. I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Mattheo grinding against the mattress because he's hard for me.
He starts massaging my tits, leaning down with his mouth, sucking on my nipple. "Oh -" I press my lips together, trying to be quiet. I pull harder on his hair, making him groan and grind against the mattress again. God help me.
"If you keep pulling on my hair like that I'm not gonna last another second." he breathes out when he lets go of my nipple. A grin forms on my lips when I suddenly got my confidence back. " Oh so you mean you will last longer than a minute?" He frowns at me before leaning down again and biting my nipple, while playing with the other one. "Mattheo!" I hiss loudly making him laugh devilish against my skin.
"I don't know If I want you to scream my name or shutting the fuck up." he chuckles when he starts pulling down my skirt. "How about you shut the fuc-" before I could finish my sentence he stuffs two fingers into my mouth. "Use your mouth for something good and suck baby." I roll my eyes but still do as he says. I run my tongue around the top of his fingers playfully, smiling while doing so.
I gasp when I feel his other hand on my clothed pussy. "Shit, you're soaked y/n. Fucking dripping." he says with his jaw hanging down and his eyes on my private part.
With two fingers he pulls my panties down, making me gasp at the cold air against my wetness. "You make me go crazy, you know that? Bet you're so tight - oh fuck yeah." he moans when he slowly enters me with his fingers he used to pull my underwear down. You could hear the wetness all over the room. I bit down on his fingers when he starts to pump them in and out faster. "Hm yeah fucking moan for me, come on." he bites down on his lip while watching my lips wrapped around his fingers. I buckle my hips when his thumb starts teasing my clit, only touching it for a short moment before letting go of it. I indeed moan around his fingers, closing my eyes.
"I'm so hard for you I can't believe it myself." he mumbles to himself, leaning down so his breath hits my clit, pulling a whimper from me this time. He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and I hear them working his belt. "Mattheo please.." "What baby? Talk to me.." "Mhh I need more.. wanna feel you." I completely forget my pride while he fucks me with his fingers.
"Wanna feel my cock inside you? That's what you want?" "Fuck yes - please!" He pulls his fingers out of me, smiling when I whine in protest. I look up at him and see him sucking my juices off his fingers, making my stomach flip. "Taste so good princess." he groans and bites his bottom lip after pulling his fingers out of his mouth.
I watch him puling his pants down his legs, kicking them somewhere in the room. He pulls his shirt over his head, making me gasp in surprise. I knew he is fit but that fit? "Wanna take a picture?" he asks me cockily. "You wish." I scoff but smile as I see him smiling too.
I look down at him and gulp when I see the outline of his cock. "Don't worry baby, you're so wet for me It will fit without any trouble." He grabs my ankles and pulls me towards the edge of the bed. He places my legs over his shoulders, groaning again. " If I knew all these things about you I would have fucked you way earlier. For example how flexible you are." I giggle and raise my eyebrows. "I have a lot more hidden talents." "I bet." he says with a heavy breath, taking his cock into his hand and teasing my clit with his tip, brushing it over it again and again. "Mattheo.." I whine, desperate to feel him.
"I want you to beg me, just likee the little whore you are." he grins wickedly at me, using my words against me. he starts dragging his tip over my pussy, pushing it against my entrance but not enough to enter me. "Please fuck me Mattheo, please. I need to feel you, please."
He doesn't waste a second, pushing his whole length into me. "Oh my god!" I almost scream, feeling him in places I thought would't even be possible. Mattheo groans, squeezing his eyes shut, his mouth wide open. "Oh you're so fucking tight, unbelievable." He starts moving his hips in a fast pace, thrusting harder against me every time a moan or whine leaves my lips.
"You feel so good - so fucking good inside of me - fuck." I star babbling, only spurting Mattheo on. "Yeah baby, that's it. Just feel how my cock feels inside you tight little cunt. Such a pretty pussy for me." I let out a loud whine and start to claw into his back.
"Harder." he groans, his left hand finding it way around my throat. I dig my nails deeper into his skin making him chuckle deeply and smile down at me with dark eyes. Oh shit. His grip around my throat tightens, making me even wetter, " You like that, baby? Who would have thought that our little angel is such a whore for me huh?"
His hips start to move even faster than before, hitting my cervix at some point. "Oh Mattheo -" I choke out between some broken sobs. I don't know when the last time was where someone fucked me this good.
He laughs like the devil himself and says "what baby? thought you do't want me hm?" I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel a deep feeling inside my tummy. "Fuck I feel your little pussy squeezing me, you're close?" I just nod and gasp.
He slowly down to which I whine in protest. "No, no please Mattheo. Don't stop, please." I beg him without a second thought.
"Tell me you hate me again. Come on." I shake my head and groan in frustration. "Why not?" "I - I can't" He grins in satisfaction and picks up the pace from before. My walls start clenching around him, my hips buckling up against him widely and without a rhythm. "Scream my name." Mattheo." "Louder, fucking louder so they hear how we talked about our problems." he grins. "Fuck, Mattheo!" Then it hits me, like a wave crashing over me when I come around his cock, spasming around him.
"God you're milking me, baby." he moans when he feels me around him. While my head get's dizzy and I only see starts around me, he gets even faster and rougher, making me whimper now that I'm so sensitive. "Fucking come again." he demands, his tone deeper now. " I - I can't Mattheo. I'm so sensitive." I whimper when he rubs my clit again and fucks me shard that the headboard of the bed crushes against the wall. Oh they could definitely hear us.
"I promise you can baby, come on, It will feel so good princess. Just one more, for me." he says, working his finger so delicious against me. My lip trembles when he pulls a second orgasm from me, leaving me a whimpering mess under him. "Fuck yes, yes." His movements lose their rhythm, pumping his cock into me with zero control.
"Nhg baby I'm gonna come - fuck - where -" "come inside me." I say, still feeling like I'm on a cloud. He let's out a quite whimper before coming, but I still heard it. Then I feel his hot cum inside me, his body falling on top of mine while he still ruts against me. "Shit.." he breathes out heavily when he slowly comes down from his high.
I see him swallowing when he looks down at me. "I'm gonna die If this is a one - time thing." he says, making my heart miss a beat.
"It's not." I whisper against his lips before kissing him with a smile. He slowly pulls out of me, we both look down. I see him smirking when his cum leaks out of me.
Suddenly the door opens, both of our heads turning towards it. We see our friends standing in the doorway with confused looks and mouth wide open. The only one that looked smug about it was Draco. " Told you so." he chuckles. "Wow.." Enzo whispers looking at us. "I think I hate you too, y/n." he says. Mattheo pulls the bedsheets over us and growls at him. " You wish." "What the fuck! Why on my bed?" Theo yells, making all of us burst out in laughter.
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Thank you for reading! I think this is one of my favorites I wrote 😭🫶🏻
Let me know If you liked it! <3
taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username [just write me If you don‘t wanna be tagged anymore 💞 ]
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xoxo sarah <3
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042502 · 22 hours
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Matt, I don't love you // M. Sturniolo x Reader.
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SYNOPSIS: After ten years of relationship with Matt, you decide to end it all. You have a talk with him about it.
WARNINGS: Relationship in crisis, separation, broken relationship, broken hearts, use a lot of tissues.
NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :)
MASTERLIST!!
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"I can't throw away 10 years of relationship" Matt looked at you with a face wet with tears, His blue eyes stood out more thanks to the red tone because of how irritated they were. "Can't" He catches his lower lip between his teeth, while moving his head repeatedly to the sides. "It doesn't seem fair to me, no."
You looked at him neutrally, without a hint of pain, There was no trace of a tear on you. That hurt Matt's heart even more.
"We have problems?" Matt asks, then answers himself. "Si, claro que los tenemos" his eyes were fixed on you, I won't leave you out of sight for even a second. "We both did a lot of stupid things." his voice breaks at the end of his hour. "Of course (y/n), We did a lot of stupid things baby. But we can overcome them, we can work, we can solve them, like a lot of couples..." His words get tangled. "who have a problem"
This time he looks down in frustration, the tears didn't stop, They continued to flow from his eyes. He looks up at you again.
"Here the easiest thing is to escape (y/n)"
"It's not escaping" you finally open your mouth to speak, with a cold and dry tone. "It's exactly the opposite."
"No, no, no. It's escaping" Matt repeats as he presses his lips tightly together and shakes his head in denial. "And I didn't escape" take a breath and sigh heavily. "Let's do couples therapy baby, let's fight together" Matt runs his hand over his face and repeats: "let's fight together, We can come out stronger from this, If we get through it... Together"
You had your eyes down, you couldn't look him in the eyes. He begged you.
"The only thing that matters here..." Matt's voice shakes when he speaks.. "It's just that we are a couple, a couple that has problems, yes, a couple that has problems like so many others... but we love each other"
You look him in the eyes, with a firm voice you say: "Matt, I do not love you."
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NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ I'm sorry if I made you cry, but I cried writing and I won't be the only one crying.
TAGLIST: @luverboychris @l34n @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @adirtylittleheart @ilovechrisssturniolo @melonjollyranche
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thepartyresponsible · 18 hours
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prompt fill! someone asked for jason todd and truth serum. this was also supposed to fill the request for "who did this to you?" with phil/jason, but i didn't make it to "who did this to you?" part. sorry! i'm trying to keep these under 1k.
anyway, this one's a bit bleak, but educational. here, jason learns an important life lesson: if you go undercover as a criminal, sometimes people believe you. and phil learns to reorder his interrogation questions.
warnings for drugging people without their consent. the drug in question is a fictional truth serum.
- - -
Using this particular drug on a nonconsenting person is a crime in most of the world. A recent amendment to the Geneva Convention marked its use on prisoners of war as a war crime. There’s a blanket ban on its production and use in the European Union. In the United States, administration by law enforcement personnel was ruled a violation of the Fifth and Eighth Amendments.
But SHIELD is not at war. Nor is it a law enforcement agency. And Phil Coulson is not in territory controlled by the United States or the European Union. The man in SHIELD custody undoubtedly has rights of some kind, but the extent of those rights – and who might be obligated to protect them – is currently unknown.
“It’s messy,” he says, to Fury.
“It’s a mess,” Fury replies. “Clean it up.”
- - -
He’s younger than Phil expected. But he has no right to judge anyone for sending their young to die. After all, he looks older than Natasha, possibly older than Clint.
And Natasha and Clint might be dead. In some ways, SHIELD’s no better.
“Your name, please,” Phil says.
“Jason,” the man says, a slow, sleepy mumble, and then his eyes open, and the panic hits.
Phil’s grown familiar with panic. He’s seen it in civilians and soldiers, in diplomats and dictators. He’s seen it every time he’s encountered this drug.
When it was first developed, early adopters trotted out the old lie: if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. But everyone has something to hide. Everyone has a secret they would swallow their own tongue to protect, and here’s a substance that takes that choice away, a wonder drug that retains awareness while negating will. A life-saving torture device.
“Fuck you,” the man says, which is far more spirit than most manage.
“Jason,” Phil says, “my agents are missing.”
“Fuck you,” Jason says, again. “That’s what happens.” He’s double-blinking, struggling to focus. Phil’s done this six times. No one's ever managed this level of control. Usually, they’re drooling by now, spilling secrets and saliva into the collar of their shirts.
Something’s wrong.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” Phil says. “We must have miscalculated your dosage.”
- - -
Medical reports back half an hour later. There was no miscalculation. The man has a tolerance they assure him should not be possible.
“We gave him a second dose. He should be amenable now,” the doctor says. “If he doesn’t stop breathing.”
Amenable, Phil thinks. He explores the hollow inside him where the horror should’ve been. It’s a terrible thing they’re doing. He knows that.
But his agents are missing.
“Thank you,” he says. And he goes back to work.
- - -
“You know,” Jason tells him, glassy-eyed, barely looking Phil’s direction, “if you ask the wrong questions, I have to kill you."
It’s an interesting threat from a man who cannot lie.
“And what are you afraid you’ll tell me?” Phil asks.
“Identities,” he answers, chest rising slower than a sleeper’s.
“Ah,” Phil says. “Yes, we’ll get to that.”
“Batman,” he adds, unexpectedly. “Nightwing.” He swallows, clumsily. When he breathes in, he chokes. Phil watches him almost drown for a moment and then he reaches across the table and tugs Jason’s head forward so he can breathe.
He barely has the coordination to breathe, but the contact makes him flinch hard enough to shake the table. Phil wonders who made a creature like him.
“Who do you work for?” he asks.
“Nobody.” And then, almost smiling, voice dropping into a guttural growl, “Justice.”
Which could be good news. Killers with a mission are predictable, once you understand their cause. “And who decides justice? Who gives you orders?”
“Nobody.”
Interesting. Most freelancers don’t work at this level, and the ones who do should have extensive SHIELD files. “Who’s been signing your checks lately?”
“Checks,” Jason says, and laughs. “Fucking checks.”
He’s been thoroughly dosed with a drug designed to make him highly suggestible and meekly compliant. Phil’s starting to understand why capturing him was such a costly undertaking.
“Whose money is in your accounts right now?”
Jason makes a noise, some gusty grumble of complaint, and then lists off a dozen or so of the very worst people alive. The most interesting names are the ones Phil doesn’t recognize, but he’ll have to get to those later. The window is short; his time is running out.
A single dose is risky. Some people never fully recover their independence. They’re rendered permanently docile, suffering from a kind of chemical lobotomy that good people across the globe have outlawed. A second dose doubles the odds of permanent damage. After the third, some people won't even breathe without orders.
They’ve given him two already.
“These people who’ve been paying you,” Phil says, “which of them is paying you right now?”
Jason sighs. “Nobody pays me. I stole that money.”
“You---” Phil pauses, looks at his notes. He re-reads the names, marvels at the insanity of stealing from any of them. “You stole from those people?”
“Stole from ‘em,” he says, “killed ‘em. Well, killed some. Gonna kill the others. It’s, you know. A to-do list. I’ve been busy.”
Phil wonders if he’s been wasting his time, if he’s drugged a delusional man. “You don’t steal from people like that before you kill them.”
Jason tilts his head so he can look up him, furrows his brow in something that is almost a coherent expression of disdain. “You never have any fun, huh?”
Phil might be dealing with someone far more dangerous than he’d predicted. “You do this for fun?”
“Yeah,” Jason says. “And for justice.”
Justice, right. Of course. “And who taught you about justice?”
“My dad,” Jason says.
Which is good. Which might be helpful. Truth has its uses, but, in Phil’s experience, leverage gets more accomplished.
“And who,” Phil says, “is your father?”
Jason’s eyes track his direction but don’t quite land. His mouth closes and then opens again. “Batman,” he says.
“Oh,” Phil says. “Shit.”
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notsohappynotsosad · 2 days
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Emperor, Stelmane and Gargauth
Sorry I haven't been posting, I got hyperfixated on this theory. Drawings will resume from now
If you’ve completed the game, there’s a chance you know of the reveal that Emperor’s previous associate, Duke Stelmane, has been in fact his thrall. Upon further inspection you may gain some seemingly contradicting information and lots of questions with no answers. This post will be long, but I promise that at the end, most of these questions will be answered. Also, there are pictures.
TLDR: Emperor and Stelmane used to be besties before he enthralled her, but they couldn't defeat Gargauth with their power of friendship.
So, for the uninitiated, what are these questions?
Firstly, when the party enters Rivington and Dream Visitor is revealed to be the Emperor, he will tell us about his life, including that he was partners with Stelmane, though he doesn’t say anything about the thrall bit of course. At this point neither he nor the party knows the Duke is dead. As far as the Emperor is concerned, what he shared might greatly compromise him and he never shares such information when he simply could’ve concealed it.
If you poke around, other questions may arise, such as why was Stelmane’s condition improving after the Emperor's visits? Why was she asking for him? Why was she excitedly talking about him at the Tavern? Why did they hug? Why was she at Elfsong, where he could find her the most easily? Why did she drink wine, which he used to force her to do? Why didn’t she warn anyone about him? Why was she looking through people before the stroke? Why would the Emperor mind control her? Why does he keep her portrait next to his desk? Is he stupid?
Now that I have you hooked (probably), let's introduce our cast.
Emperor – The one and only, our favorite topic for daily arguments. Sluttiest waist in game.
Duke Belynne Stelmane – Gods’ most perfect princess. We all agree to fuck the Emperor for what he did to her (some of us literally). She used to be a member of the Council of Four[1] as well as leader of Baldur’s Gate branch of Knights of the Shield[2]. Had ties to Hhune patriar family, possibly even related. Low levels of waist sluttiness.
Gargauth – better known as the Hidden Lord, a powerful pit fiend imprisoned in the Shield of the Hidden Lord. His portfolio includes betrayal, cruelty, political corruption and power brokers[3]. The Shield has been kept underneath Baldur’s Gate for over a century, spreading corruption in the city due to his presence alone. Such is his influence, that on the condition he’s taken away from the city, the crime rate might drastically drop[1]. He is known to have been communicating through the Shield with a past leader of the Knights, providing him with valuable information and helping the order grow in power while trying to gain worship[3]. Only some of the Hhune family and the highest rank members of the Knights knew about his existence, though in the present day no one is aware of his infernal identity[2]. Gargauth will try to steer his current owner towards acts of cruelty and domination in hopes of condemning their soul to the Nine Hells[1]. In the “Descent into Avernus” ttrpg one of the baddies wants to use the Shield to drag Baldur’s Gate into Avernus in the same fashion it happened for Elturel, but a party of adventurers takes it away before this evil plan is realized[1]. No information on waist sluttiness due to being imprisoned in a shield.
Now that I established myself as a squid fucker and Stelmane as a leader of a devil-worshipping organization, I know what you’re thinking – I’m gonna say that the Emperor had to enthrall this evil cult leader to save the city. Haha, no. Keep reading. Here, have a meme so I don’t lose your attention.
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I must begin by clearing some misconceptions. It’s easy to assume that because of the Stelmane scene, all the Emperor told us about her up to that point was a lie. It wasn’t. They had a functional relationship before the mind control took place. (If you already know this, feel free to skip to the next meme.) There are two notes in the game pointing us to that conclusion: a journal found in Hhune mausoleum commonly attributed to Stelmane and a transcribed conversation heard in Elfsong tavern.
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This existence of a past relationship also explains the portrait of Stelmane that the Emperor keeps next to his desk and one of his dialogue options when the PC hugs him in act 2.
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Later, in act 3, he also has some lines painting a vague picture of the relationship’s nature.
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So she was beginning to trust him before he caused the stroke. This makes things so much more messed up.
There’s still one written document, which doesn’t make sense, namely Patient Log: Duke Belynne Stelmane.Patient Log:
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This is clearly written after the Emperor took mental possession of her and caused a stroke. Why then does he help her and why does she keep asking for him?
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Have you ever gone into the Hhune mausoleum and saw this note?
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After giving up on solving the puzzle and looking it up online have you wondered who is “HE”?
It’s Gargauth, the Hidden Lord.
In “Descent into Avernus” module the party may encounter an NPC who is a member of the Knights; she is kept by Vanathampur family as a leverage in case it transpires that Vanathampurs stole the Shield of the Hidden Lord from the Hhune crypt [1] – the very same mausoleum present in game. And it just so happens that the key to this very mausoleum is in the Elfsong Tavern’s Knights of the Shield headquarters, where Stelmane and the Emperor had their rooms.
That’s not all. When you solve the Hhune mausoleum puzzle, a secret wall will open, revealing a small room full of the Knights’ symbols. If the Shield hasn’t been stolen, the Hidden Lord would be revealed too, just like the note says.
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And what is that on the table? It’s Stelmane’s journal I was referring to earlier.
Stelmane had access to the Shield. And if she did, the Emperor had too.
(Kudos, if you already know where I’m going with this.) Here’s my proposed order of events.
Stelmane and the Emperor meet. At the time she isn’t yet a Duke nor the leader of the Knights. Like any normal person she’s terrified at first, but unlike any normal person she’s willing to collaborate for the sake of the Knights and her own ambition.
Due to having an illithid ally she quickly climbs ranks of the Knights. She grows to trust him and vice-versa. Things are as good as they can be for a determined politician working her way up in a corrupt organization and a renegade illithid helping with this task.
They finally advance to the seats of power. Stelmane becomes a Duke and leader of the Knights of the Shield. Perhaps thanks to this position or due to Emperor prying into minds of the members, they become aware of the Shield of the Hidden Lord kept in Hhune mausoleum.
They begin speaking with the Shield. Neither of them knows the true identity of the entity within it and the Hidden Lord does everything to keep it that way. His information and advice is always good, so turning to it for guidance becomes a habit.
Gargauth being Gargauth makes every effort to corrupt them; it’s not particularly hard. Keep in mind they’re not good people to begin with. She’s someone willing to collaborate with a mind flayer for the sake of taking over an evil organization and he’s one DC 20 persuasion check away from enslaving the city. The devil causes their worst traits to flare up and pitties them against each other.
This results in a power struggle which culminates in the Emperor dominating Stelmane and causing her seizure.
The Shield gets stolen and soon after taken away from the city.
Without Gargauth’s direct influence they (especially the Emperor) realize the fuckup, but the damage has been done.
They recognize the fiend’s influence in this transgression. Emperor starts treating Stelmane, maybe they try to make their relationship how it once was, though it might not be possible.
Emperor gets taken by Gortash and soon after is sent on the Astral Prism heist. Events of Baldur’s Gate 3 happen.
That’s all! Have a meme!
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Here’s an extra bit for the interested.
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The see-through people gaze is most likely caused by Gargauth’s influence. And before that Wyll says:
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Sounds familiar? And from one letter in the game we can learn that Stelmane has a mansion in the Upper City, where the patriar families such as Hhunes reside[2]. Could she be related to Thione-Hhune?
Huge thanks for reading it all! What do you think? Did Larian originally plan to have this side-story of an aftermath of Gargauth’s corruption?
Sources in order of referencing (sorry, I don’t have a better system)
[1] “Descent into Avernus”: p.162, p.174, p.225, p.5, p.40
[2] “Murder in Baldur’s Gate”: p.36, p.51, p.39
[3] “Lords of Darkness”: p.151 (all the info)
82 notes · View notes