Daniel Ricciardo Taking The Fastest Lap Point Off Max’s Championship Contender Mayhem……..charles

MY KINDA CRAZY | LN4

an: i was listening to do re mi by blackbear and i was just thinking about the concept of lando dating a driver who is just straight up insane but that's their dynamic.

wc: 3.4k

Lando was lounging in his gaming chair, half-focused on his Quadrant stream, when he heard the sound of glass shattering in the distance. His gaze flickered, eyebrows furrowing as the noise registered. He glanced toward his mates on-screen, catching a few laughs over the headset.

“What was that?” Max asked.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned back, glancing over his shoulder toward the window. “Hang on a sec.” He muted his mic, got up and moved toward the source of the commotion.

He reached the edge of the window and peered outside—and there she was, standing beside his brand new black Ferrari, one of his precious golf clubs in hand, bringing it down on the windscreen with a satisfying crack. She looked wild-eyed, fearless, like she belonged right there, shattering his world with a smirk on her face.

He didn’t even have to look at the monitor to know his friends were watching his expression. After a pause, he unmuted the mic. “Uh, guys,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “I’ll be back in five.”

“Is that…?” Steven started. The rest fell into stunned silence, disbelief etched across their voices as he nodded, trying to suppress a grin.

“Bro, are you serious? You need to cut her off,” he heard Ethan say, as the sound of glass crunched through his headset again. They’re trying to talk him out of it, telling him how crazy this is, how she’s crazy. But he knows the truth—that they’re just as bad as each other, and he can’t imagine it any other way.

“I got it handled,” he assured them, already making his way downstairs. 

Lando stepped into the lobby, where the apartment security guards were trying—without much success—to talk her down. One of them looked up at him, relief flashing across his face. “Sir, do you want us to call the police? We’ll get her to leave.”

But he just shook his head, giving them a grin. “Nah. I’ll deal with her.”

Striding out, he reached her, catching her wrist just as she raised the golf club for another swing. She froze, looking up at him, and he could see the fire in her eyes, the way she was daring him to react.

He just grinned, leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath brush her cheek. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped an arm around her waist and, in one swift motion, lifted her up and slinged her over his shoulder. She let out a yelp, then an indignant laugh, smacking his back with the flat of her hand.

“Put me down, you cunt!” she demanded, but there was a thrill in her voice he knew too well.

“Are you done having your moment, sweetheart?” Lando murmured, a teasing edge in his tone. He could feel her bristle, and could almost hear the smirk in her voice when she muttered, “Maybe.”

As he walked back inside, her breathless laughter filling the air, he slid his hand up the back of her thigh, just to hear her gasp. She wriggled against his shoulder, trying to hide the way her body was reacting, but he felt it—felt her melt under his touch, even as she clung to her defiance.

Once they were back inside, he let her down slowly, pressing her back against the wall. She glared up at him, but it was a look laced with something darker, something that has his pulse thrumming. He caged her in with his arms, leaning close enough to feel the heat radiating off her.

“You really thought that was gonna get a reaction out of me?” he murmured, voice low, teasing. She smirked, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Oh, it got a reaction,” she whispered, her fingers sliding down to his belt, tugging him closer.

For a moment, there was just the sound of their breaths, mingling in the charged air between them. Then he closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was hard and demanding, like they were daring each other to go further. She kissed him back fiercely, her hands twisting into his shirt, holding him as close as possible.

When they broke apart, breathless, he pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “Next time, try not to break the Ferrari.”

She grinned, unrepentant. “Can’t make any promises.”

She stepped through the bathroom door, expecting things to be exactly where she left them. Instead, her eyes widen as she notices the vanity—completely empty, wiped clean. Her makeup, all of it, is gone.

She dropped her phone on the floor, her jaw tightening as she stormed through the apartment, finally finding Lando lounging on the sofa, casually scrolling through his phone as if nothing’s amiss.

“You didn’t,” she hissed, fists clenched at her sides. Lando looked up slowly, meeting her glare with an infuriatingly calm expression, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, I did,” he said, tossing his phone aside and stretching his arms across the back of the sofa. “Figured you might like a fresh start. Maybe if you didn’t wear all that makeup, you wouldn’t be getting so much attention.”

Her hands balled into fists, but she didn’t look away. He watched the spark ignite in her eyes, that unmistakable fire that was both thrilling and a little dangerous. She took a slow step toward him, a mocking smile spreading across her face.

“You’re insane,” she said, voice low and deadly, but he only grinned, watching her like he was daring her to do something about it.

“Yeah?” Lando replied, leaning back and looking her over with a smirk. “But you go wild for it.”

She stalked closer, moving to stand over him, her hands braced on either side of his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “That was my stuff, and you don’t get to decide what I wear.”

He let out a low laugh, his gaze unwavering as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering just a bit too long. “Then stop trying to get my attention by looking at every other guy,” he murmured, his voice soft but dangerous, his hand trailing down the side of her face, fingers brushing along her jawline.

“You think I’m looking at anyone else?” she breathed, leaning in close enough that her lips grazed his, teasing. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching his shirt as she lowered herself to straddle him, trapping him in place. “Trust me, sweetheart, when I want someone’s attention, I get it.”

Lando felt her heartbeat against his chest, fast and unsteady, betraying the anger simmering just under the surface. He grinned, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush together. His voice dropped down to a whisper, low and possessive. “Then prove it.”

She didn’t hesitate, her mouth crashing into his, all sharp teeth and rough edges, like she was determined to make him regret it. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, his grip tightening as he pulled her in deeper, like he was staking his own claim. They were tangled together, her hands gripping his hair as he pressed her closer, their breaths mingling in a haze of frustration and heat.

When they finally pulled back, gasping for air, Lando smirked, brushing his thumb over her swollen lip. “See? Much better.”

When Lando walked in, the first thing he noticed was a mess of fabric strewn across the floor of the living room. The second? That familiar, smug defiance hanging in the air. His designer shirts—one after another—were lying in a pile, each one sliced clean through.

He let out a low, dark laugh, shaking his head as he picked up a piece of ruined silk. Of course she did this. Of course.

He followed the trail of destruction down the hall, where he found her sprawled on their bed, scrolling through her phone as if nothing was out of the ordinary. In her other hand, she was twirling a pair of scissors, the blade glinting as it caught the light.

He cleared his throat, and she glanced up, that innocent look in her eyes that he knew all too well. It was the look she gave right before she said something that’ll push every one of his buttons.

“Something wrong?” she asked, the corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied little smirk.

He stepped closer, holding up the tattered remains of one of his favourite shirts. “Oh, nothing,” he drawled, letting the fabric slip from his fingers. “Just wondering if you’ve got something you want to say.”

She gave a nonchalant shrug, returning her attention to her phone as she flicked through it lazily. “Thought I’d free up some space in your wardrobe. You never seemed to like those shirts anyway.”

He chuckled, watching her with narrowed eyes as he sat beside her on the edge of the bed, close enough that she had to look up at him. “And what if I told you that those were my favourites?” he murmured, reaching out to take the scissors from her hand, his fingers brushing her skin just a moment too long.

She tilted her head, her smirk widening as she let him take the scissors, her eyes flicking to his with that bold, unyielding spark he can never resist. “Then maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said, voice low and sweet, laced with mock innocence.

He let out another laugh, setting the scissors aside, his hand lingering on her thigh as he leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath hitch. “And what am I supposed to do with you, hmm?” he asked, his fingers brushing slowly up her leg, tracing light circles that sent a shiver through her.

She raised her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging glint. “Maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said again, her tone daring him to react. Her fingers trail up his chest, her touch feather-light, barely there, but enough to send heat coursing through him.

“Careful,” he whispered, voice dropping as he moved his hand up to cup her face, his thumb tracing along her cheek. “Keep this up, and I might have to show you what happens when you mess around this much, sweetheart.”

She leaned into his touch, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

She was exhausted, every muscle aching as she finally made it back to their apartment building after a gruelling day of training, it was hard to keep up with Max sometimes. She was only thinking about a hot shower and maybe collapsing into bed, but when she slid her keycard into the lock, nothing happened. She tried again, frowning as she heard the familiar beep and saw the small red light flash, denying her access.

Frustrated, she let out a sigh and looked up, only to see Lando standing by the window on the second floor, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk stretched across his face.

“You trying to come in?” he called down, amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched her wrestle with the lock.

Her jaw tightens. She raises her voice, letting her irritation show. “Open the door, or I swear I’ll—”

He just laughed, leaning out of the window, entirely unbothered. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I had to revoke your access. Apartment is under my name, after all.” He paused, tilting his head as he looked her over, clearly savouring her frustration. “It’s just... you’ve been taking a few too many liberties lately.”

She scoffed, storming toward the front desk, where the concierge looked up, shifting uncomfortably as she approached.

“Can you open the door?” she demanded, her voice sharp with exhaustion and irritation.

The concierge frowned apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Norris" he hesitated, glancing up toward the smirking man in the window— “he’s requested that your access be restricted. I can’t let you in without his permission.”

Her fists clench at her sides, and she looks back up at him, glaring. He was still leaning against the window, arms folded, watching her with that smug, insufferable grin. She was just about ready to give him a piece of her mind when he called down, his voice lazy and laced with amusement.

“You know,” Lando said, “there’s a way you could get in. Just gotta say the magic word.”

She narrowed her eyes, arms crossing as she stared up at him. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Oh, come on.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “A little begging never hurt anyone.” He grinned, tilting his head mockingly. “Or are you too proud? Red Bull’s Princess can’t say please?”

She bit back a retort, anger simmering under her skin. But the day had worn her down, and the idea of spending the night locked out was even worse than giving him what he wanted. She let out a sigh, glaring at him with a look that could kill.

“Please,” she said, voice strained, her jaw clenched tightly.

He cupped a hand to his ear, grinning wider. “Didn’t quite hear that.”

She let out a frustrated growl, swallowing her pride as she raised her voice, forcing herself to repeat it. “I said, please,” she grit out, hating every second.

But Lando only shook his head, laughing softly to himself. “Not quite enough, darling. You’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”

Her eyes narrowed, fury blazing in her gaze as she glanced around, making sure no one else beside the concierge was listening before she took a deep breath. She fixed him with a look, voice dropping lower, softer. “Please… let me in.”

For a moment, he just watched her, savouring every word, every hint of frustration in her eyes. And then, finally, he relented, nodding to the concierge with a satisfied smirk.

The door unlocks, and she strode in, tossing one last glare up toward him as she headed up to their apartment, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the wake of her frustration.

When she reached the door, he was waiting there, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, still looking far too amused for her liking. She stormed past him, but he caught her wrist, stopping her just before she could slip away.

“Glad to see you can be reasonable,” he murmured, his voice low, laced with amusement as he pulled her closer.

She rolled her eyes, tugging her hand free, but he didn't let her go, his grip firm, challenging her as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her skin. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t push it,” she muttered, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips, her irritation melting into something warmer as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Oh, I plan to,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, savouring the way her resistance softens, just a little, under his touch.

Lando was out at the bar with Max, Charles and Oscar, a half-empty glass in his hand, when his phone buzzed on the table. Glancing down, he noticed it was his bank calling. He frowned, picking it up with a raised eyebrow.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sir, this is a courtesy call from Credit Mutuel. We just wanted to confirm a recent transaction—3,600 Euros from Versace? We wanted to make sure it was authorised.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, immediately picturing her wandering through the store, swiping his card without a second thought. Of course, she would do that.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, trying to hide his amusement. “Go ahead and approve it.”

He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket, just as his friends gave him questioning looks. Charles leaned in, a grin already spreading across his face. “3.6K at Versace? Who’s racking up that kind of charge?”

He shrugged, smirking as he picked up his drink. “My girl. Guess she decided to go shopping.”

They exchanged looks, half-amused, half-incredulous. Max whistled low, shaking his head. “You’ve gotta be kidding. She’s really that bold?”

“Bold?” Oscar chimed in with a laugh. “She’s insane. You really need to put a stop to that.”

He just raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “What, and miss out on all the fun?”

“Man, she’s gonna drain you dry,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “You need to cut her off.”

He took another sip of his drink, the thought not even crossing his mind. “Nah. She’s my type of crazy.”

They all looked at him like he’d lost his mind, but he didn't care. She kept him on his toes, always a little unpredictable, a little wild—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re out of your mind, man,” Max said, chuckling. “No one’s worth that kind of chaos.”

“She’s your teammate, put respect on her name.” Lando quipped, his voice light but a slight bit of truth to it.

“Teammate or not. Kelly spent 3k in Versace? I'm asking her dad to pay me back.”

He just laughed, his gaze drifting toward the door as if he half expected her to show up, Versace bags in hand and that signature defiant look on her face. “Eh this is what keeps it interesting.”

Hope you bought something nice for me to rip off tonight x

The Singapore night lights gleam across the track as the roar of the crowd echoed through the air. Lando managed to bring the car to first place. It was a win that put him further ahead in the World Drivers' Championship—closer to clinching the title that both she and him were battling for. She’d just come in third, and he knew she’d be furious about the gap widening, about him taking both the sprint and the race.

He was basking in his victory, the top step of the podium all his, the adrenaline still coursing through him, as he turned to celebrate with the other two drivers on the podium. But he couldn't ignore the tension in the air. She was standing just a few feet away, third place still sitting uncomfortably on her shoulders, the gap between them widening with each race.

Her jaw tightened as she grabbed a bottle of champagne, shaking it quickly in her hand, she slammed it on the top step of his podium, his signature celebration. And she watched.

She watched as it hit his trophy, knocking it from the podium. The silver gleamed for a split second before it crashed to the ground, the base shattering in a shower of sparkling fragments.

She stood there, blinking for a moment, watching as the trophy’s broken pieces settled at their feet, her champagne bottle still in hand, the remnants of the cork still floating in the air like confetti. Slowly, she turned her eyes to him, that familiar, defiant glint sparking in her gaze.

“Whoops?” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if she couldn’t care less about the broken trophy—or the effect it’s had on him.

He stood there for a moment, shock flashing across his face. But it was quickly replaced with a grin. He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

Without thinking twice, he stepped off his podium, the world blurring around him as he strides over to her. Her eyes widened in surprise as he reached out, his hand slipping under her jaw, tilting her face up to his. For a heartbeat, the noise of the crowd faded, the lights dimmed, and it was just the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills.

Then, before she could react, he pulled her in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was both possessive and challenging, a reminder of the victory that was still fresh on his lips. She was stiff at first, her fists clenching by her sides, every bit of her resistance radiating through her. But then, just as he was about to pull away, her grip relaxed. She let out a shaky breath against his lips, and suddenly she was kissing him back, just as fierce, just as unapologetic.

The world erupted around them in a chaotic mix of cheers and gasps, but they were lost in the heat between them. Charles, grinning like he was witnessing the best drama of the year, stepped forward with his bottle and sprayed them both, champagne splashing across their faces, soaking their race suits.

They broke apart, gasping for air, champagne dripping down their faces, but neither of them stepped back. He was grinning, that familiar arrogant smirk, knowing he had pushed her, made her break her carefully guarded composure right in front of everyone.

“You’re still behind, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Better step it up.”

She narrowed her eyes, her lips twisting into a smirk of her own. “Keep pushing your luck,” she replied, voice dripping with challenge. “I’ll catch you sooner than you think.”

He let out a quiet laugh, raising his champagne bottle in a mock toast. “Looking forward to it.”

She was standing in front of the press, still in her race suit, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as the interviewer approached her, mic in hand. The buzz in the room was all too familiar—she’d been the talk of the circuit all season, and tonight, after the “accidental” destruction of his trophy, they were all eager to get her take on it.

“So,” the interviewer started, grinning as he raised an eyebrow, “quite the, uh, performance on the podium. How are you feeling about, well… breaking Lando’s trophy?”

She shrugged, her expression as cool and collected as ever. “Not my trophy, not my problem,” she replied, smirking as a few people in the crowd let out quiet chuckles.

The interviewer laughed, but he was clearly fishing for more. “Rumour has it that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Are you worried there might be… consequences?”

Her smirk widens, and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she leaned just a bit closer to the mic. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll just get punished at home,” she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she glanced directly at the camera. “If you get what I mean.”

The reaction was immediate—the interviewer’s eyes widened, the crowd let out a collective gasp, and the director frantically signalled for the camera to cut the feed. But before they manage to turn it off, her laugh echoed through the speakers, rich and unapologetic, leaving the whole room buzzing with her brazen, unfiltered confidence.

As the screen went black, she tossed the mic back to the interviewer with a wink, giving the camera one last look before she strutted off, knowing she’d left them with more questions than answers—and loving every second of it.

the end.

✧.* AFTER HOURS

synopsis - I'll risk it all for you, I want you next to me

before you continue: I’ve been working on this for the past month, so pls be nice! It’s a 6k-word bad boy/biker Lando x waitress (f!reader) set in the 50s. there’s a mix of romance, tension, and some smut (minors DNI!). excited to hear your thoughts—enjoy! xx

The neon sign above the diner hums softly, its pink and blue lights flickering in the darkened night like a beacon. It’s the only thing that seems alive at this hour, casting a soft glow on the otherwise empty street. You’ve been working at this place for a while now, long enough that the rhythms of the night shift feel second nature. The jukebox in the corner has long since stopped playing, the last notes of Elvis Presley’s latest hit fading into the air. The diner is quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes in the back or the low murmur of conversation from the last remaining patrons—a couple of old men nursing their black coffees.

You glance at the clock above the door, a wave of relief washing over you as you see it’s nearly the end of your shift. All you want is to get out of this uniform, go home, and maybe catch some sleep before the morning light creeps through your curtains. The night has a chill to it, the kind that seeps into your bones, reminding you that summer is fading fast.

The bell above the door jingles, and despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is; you can feel his presence like a shadow that lingers just out of sight. Lando Norris. The town’s resident bad boy, the one all the girls whisper about and the one your mother warned you to stay away from. He’s trouble in every sense of the word, and yet, you find it impossible to ignore the way the air seems to crackle when he’s around.

He’s been coming in every night for the past few weeks, always showing up right before your shift ends. You’ve tried not to pay him any mind, but it’s hard when he looks at you the way he does, with that cocky smirk that makes your stomach twist and your heart race.

Tonight, he’s wearing that same leather jacket, the one that makes him look even more dangerous. His hair is tousled, damp from the cool night air, and there’s a hint of rain on his skin. He strides in like he owns the place, but his eyes are on you the moment he steps through the door.

“Hey, doll,” he greets, his voice smooth, with that hint of something playful and teasing that always makes you bite back a smile.

“Lando,” you acknowledge, keeping your tone even as you wipe down the counter one last time. “You’re here late.”

He shrugs, sliding onto the stool right in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face. “Couldn’t stay away.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words make your pulse quicken. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Just a coffee,” he says, leaning back in his seat, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. “Unless you’ve got something a little more exciting to offer.”

You pour the coffee without responding, sliding the cup across the counter to him. “This is as exciting as it gets.”

He chuckles, taking the cup and lifting it to his lips. “You say that every time, sweetheart, but I know there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

You ignore his comment, focusing instead on finishing up your closing tasks. But you can feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, and it won’t be the last, but tonight it feels different. There’s an electricity in the air, something that makes your skin prickle and your heart beat just a little faster.

“Why do you keep coming here, Lando?” you ask, more to break the silence than anything else.

He sets his cup down, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Why do you think?”

You meet his gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Because you’re bored?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “No, because I like seeing you. I like the way you pretend you’re not interested.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You’ve been doing your best to keep your distance, to keep him at arm’s length, but he has a way of getting under your skin. Still, you can’t let him know that.

“My shift’s over,” you say, avoiding his eyes as you untie your apron and hang it up behind the counter. “You should go home.”

“So should you,” he says, his tone softening. “But not alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you grab your coat from the back. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

You don’t wait for his response, don’t even look back at him as you head for the door. You’ve made it clear that you’re not interested, even if that’s not entirely true. Lando is trouble, and you’ve worked too hard to stay out of it.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, the drizzle turning into a light mist that clings to your hair and clothes. The street is quiet, the only sound the distant hum of a car engine and the soft patter of rain on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you start walking down the street.

You’re halfway down the block when you hear it—the low, unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway, your heart sinking slightly as you see Lando pulling up beside you on his sleek black motorcycle. His head is tilted slightly, that ever-present smirk still on his lips as he coasts along the sidewalk at your pace.

“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice barely audible over the engine.

“No,” you reply curtly, picking up your pace. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he calls after you. “It’s a long walk home, and it’s starting to rain.”

You ignore him, determined to keep walking. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, even if he already knows. But Lando isn’t one to give up easily.

You hear the motorcycle rev slightly as he pulls ahead of you, cutting off your path. You stop abruptly, your breath catching in your throat as he swings off the bike with a fluid grace that makes your heart skip a beat. He steps in front of you, blocking your way, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“Come on, doll,” he says, his voice low and coaxing. “Let me take you home.”

You shake your head, taking a step back, but the look in his eyes holds you in place. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you want to give in, to let go of all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

“I don’t need your help,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. His touch is warm, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “I know you don’t need it,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost tender. “But maybe you want it.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. The rain is starting to fall heavier now, droplets clinging to his hair and sliding down his face. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something raw and unguarded that makes it impossible to look away.

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist, “you’re not like the others. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You want to resist, to tell him to leave you alone, but the words get caught in your throat. You can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way he makes you feel alive in a way that nothing else does. And before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can remind yourself of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you say softly.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he steps back, releasing your wrist. He gestures to the bike, and you hesitate for only a second before stepping forward. The rain is coming down in earnest now, the drops heavy and cold against your skin as you approach the motorcycle.

He hands you the spare helmet, and you take it, slipping it over your head. The leather seat is slick with rain as you swing your leg over the bike, your hands instinctively gripping his jacket as you settle behind him. The engine purrs beneath you, the vibrations humming through your body as he revs it slightly.

“You ready?” he asks, turning his head slightly to glance back at you.

You nod, though he can’t see it with the helmet on. “Yeah.”

With that, he kicks the bike into gear, and you’re off, the motorcycle roaring down the empty street, the rain whipping against your face. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the leather of his jacket as the world blurs around you. The cold night air bites at your skin, but there’s a thrill in it, a sense of freedom that you’ve never felt before.

Lando takes the turns with an ease that speaks of years of experience, the bike leaning just enough to make your heart race. The town flashes by in a blur of lights and shadows, and before you know it, you’re out on the open road, the city behind you.

He doesn’t take you home. Instead, he heads out of town, the road stretching out in front of you, the rain-soaked asphalt glistening in the dim light. The fields on either side of you are dark and endless, the occasional hedgerow or tree flashing by as Lando speeds along the wet road. The sound of the engine is a steady roar in your ears, a low thrum that seems to match the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You should be worried—he hasn’t said a word about where he’s taking you, and you’ve barely known him long enough to trust him with something like this. But there’s something exhilarating about the way he handles the bike, the confidence in his every move, that makes you feel strangely safe despite the reckless speed. It’s as if, for the first time in ages, you’re letting yourself go, allowing the night and the rain and the thrill of the ride to sweep you away.

The rain falls harder now, soaking through your coat and plastering your hair to your face beneath the helmet. The chill seeps into your bones, but it’s dulled by the heat radiating from Lando’s back, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold night air. You hold on tighter, pressing yourself closer to him as the bike hurtles down the road.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Lando begins to slow down. The road narrows, the trees growing thicker and closer together as you turn onto a smaller lane. The headlights cut through the darkness, revealing a small, secluded motel nestled at the edge of the woods. The sign above the door is old and faded, the neon flickering weakly, but the place looks clean and well-kept.

Lando pulls the bike into the gravel car park, coming to a stop near the entrance. The engine cuts off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain on the pavement and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. He dismounts first, holding the bike steady as you slide off the seat and remove your helmet.

You stand there for a moment, your heart still racing from the ride, the rain dripping off your clothes and pooling around your feet. You look at Lando, trying to gauge his expression, but his face is shadowed, unreadable in the dim light.

“Why here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with those intense eyes of his, like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he gestures towards the motel. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

You hesitate, every logical part of your brain screaming at you to turn around and walk away. This is dangerous—Lando is dangerous, with his easy charm and his reckless ways. You’ve worked hard to keep your life steady, predictable, and bringing him into it is like inviting chaos. But something holds you back, something that refuses to let you walk away.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that mix of mischief and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. Or maybe it’s the thrill of doing something you know you shouldn’t, the excitement of stepping outside the lines you’ve drawn for yourself. Whatever it is, it makes you follow him without another word, the two of you walking side by side towards the motel entrance.

The lobby is small and cosy, the kind of place that hasn’t changed much since it was built, probably a couple of decades ago. The man behind the counter barely glances up as Lando approaches, just slides a key across the counter with a bored expression. It’s clear he’s seen this kind of thing before—young couples looking for a place to escape for the night, away from prying eyes and small-town gossip.

You feel a flutter of nerves as Lando takes the key and leads you down a narrow hallway to one of the rooms. The door creaks slightly as he pushes it open, revealing a modest space with a double bed, a small table with a couple of chairs, and a dresser with a mirror above it. It’s not much, but it’s clean and dry, and after the cold rain outside, it feels almost inviting.

Lando steps inside first, holding the door open for you. You hesitate again, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts—about what you’re doing, what this means, what will happen next. But then you meet his eyes, and all those thoughts seem to scatter like leaves in the wind. There’s something in his gaze that’s both tender and intense, a look that makes your heart pound and your resolve crumble.

You step inside, and the door clicks shut behind you, sealing you both inside the small, warm room. The sound is final, like a decision being made, a line being crossed. Lando turns to face you, his expression unreadable as he watches you standing there, rain-soaked and shivering slightly in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the way he usually speaks.

You nod, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. Your heart is racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all tangled together in a way that makes it hard to breathe. But you don’t want to back out now, not after everything that’s led you here.

Lando steps closer, his hands coming up to gently brush your wet hair away from your face. His touch is warm and soft, a tenderness you hadn’t expected. His eyes search yours, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, any reason to stop.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “But I want to.”

It’s the truth, or at least part of it. You’re scared, yes, but you’re also drawn to him in a way you can’t explain. There’s something about Lando that calls to the part of you that’s been buried for so long, the part that craves something more than the quiet, predictable life you’ve built for yourself.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if making sure you really mean it, then nods slightly. His hand slips down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you further into the room. There’s a gentleness in his movements, a care that surprises you, considering his usual devil-may-care attitude.

The rain drums steadily against the window, a constant rhythm that fills the silence between you. Lando’s hand leaves yours as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the chairs before turning his attention back to you. You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach as he steps closer, but it’s mingled with anticipation, a thrill that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every touch, the way his fingers brush against your skin as he helps you out of your wet clothes. There’s an intimacy to it, a quiet care that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You stand there in just your undergarments, the cold air of the room making you shiver, but Lando’s eyes are warm as they trail over you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite name. He takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently take yours again.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leading you towards the bed.

You follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. This is happening. You’re here, with him, in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, about to cross a line you’ve never crossed before. But there’s no fear, only a deep sense of rightness, like this is where you’re meant to be, in this moment, with him.

Lando sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you gently towards him until you’re standing between his knees. His hands slide up your thighs, resting on your hips as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of emotion. He’s always been confident, always in control, but now there’s a vulnerability in his gaze, a quiet question he’s asking without words.

You answer by leaning down, your hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both testing the waters. But it quickly deepens, a hunger igniting between you that has been simmering for weeks. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in the heat of the moment. His hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished, like you’re something precious. It’s intense and overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Time seems to lose meaning as you lose yourselves in each other, the night stretching out as if it were infinite. The rain outside creates a soothing, rhythmic backdrop to your passion, a comforting contrast to the fire burning between you.

Lando’s kisses are insistent, devouring, yet he moves with care, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His touch, though firm, is never rough, always just right, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds himself back slightly, as though he’s afraid of rushing, afraid of breaking whatever fragile connection has formed between you.

Your fingers slide through his damp hair, tugging slightly, and a low groan escapes his lips. It sends a thrill through you, emboldening you to press closer, your body flush against his. He shifts, pulling you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. The sensation of being held by him, feeling his strength beneath your touch, is intoxicating.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire but softened by something more—something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint, the words a mere whisper in the small space between you.

You nod, not trusting your voice to convey the depth of your certainty. There’s no room for doubt in your mind. Being with him, here, now, feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment. For him.

He studies your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he finds none, his expression shifts from questioning to resolute. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slide up your back, pulling you even closer as he captures your lips again. This kiss is different, filled with the unspoken promise of what’s to come, a promise that you’re both eager to fulfil.

Without breaking the kiss, Lando shifts his weight, turning and laying you gently on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he hovers over you, his gaze never leaving yours. There’s a moment of stillness, a shared breath, and then he’s kissing you again, his hands roaming your body with a purpose that makes you shiver in anticipation.

Every touch, every caress, is like a match struck against stone, igniting a flame that consumes you both. He moves with a slow, deliberate pace, savouring each moment, each gasp and sigh that escapes your lips. It’s as if he wants to remember every second, to carve this night into his memory as something sacred.

The room is warm, the heat from your bodies chasing away the chill of the night. Your hands map out the contours of his muscles, the smooth lines of his body, as you pull him closer, wanting more of him, needing to feel him everywhere. He responds in kind, his lips trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, as if he’s worshipping every inch of you.

When he finally moves to remove the last barriers between you, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s a natural progression, a culmination of everything that’s been building between you since the first time he walked into the diner and looked at you with those piercing eyes. There’s a shared understanding, an unspoken agreement that this is where you were always meant to end up—together.

The first moment of true connection is almost overwhelming in its intensity. It’s more than just physical; it’s as if every wall you’ve ever built around yourself crumbles in an instant, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, but not afraid. There’s no fear, only a deep, bone-deep sense of rightness, of finally finding the place where you belong.

Lando moves with a rhythm that’s both tender and powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you that build and build until you think you might shatter from the sheer force of it. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a plea, and he answers with a low, guttural groan that reverberates through your entire being.

The world narrows down to the two of you, the feel of him inside you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters. Time loses all meaning as you’re swept away by the tidal wave of sensation, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time itself.

When the wave finally crashes over you, it’s with a force that leaves you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure shudders through you, leaving you trembling in its wake. He follows soon after, his body tensing, his breath hot against your skin as he finds his own release. The feeling of him coming undone with you, because of you, is almost too much to bear.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still entwined, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The only sounds are the rain tapping lightly against the window and the soft, shared breaths filling the space between you. Lando’s weight is comforting, grounding, and you don’t want him to move, don’t want this moment to end.

He lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for reassurance that you’re still here with him, that this wasn’t some fleeting dream. You offer him a small, tired smile, your fingers brushing through his sweat-dampened hair.

“That was…” he starts, but trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You understand, though. You feel it too—this connection, this sense of something more between you. It’s more than just a one-time thing; it’s like you’ve found something precious, something you weren’t even sure you were looking for.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “It was.”

He smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his whole face, making him look almost boyish in his joy. It’s a smile that makes your heart skip a beat, that fills you with warmth and hope.

Lando rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so that you’re curled up against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a sense of peace.

For a while, you just lie there, basking in the afterglow, the silence between you comfortable and easy. The storm outside seems to have calmed, the rain now a gentle drizzle, almost soothing as it patters against the window.

But as the euphoria of the moment fades, reality starts to creep back in, bringing with it the questions and doubts that you’d managed to push aside in the heat of the moment. What happens now? What does this mean for you, for him, for the two of you together?

You shift slightly, tilting your head to look up at him. “Lando?”

He hums in response, his eyes closed, his face relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

“What happens now?” you ask, your voice small, almost afraid to break the spell.

He opens his eyes, blinking down at you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe? But it’s quickly replaced by a look of determination, of resolve.

“Now,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, “we figure it out.”

You nod, wanting to believe him, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can. But the doubts are still there, lurking at the edges of your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask, needing to hear him say it, needing to know that this isn’t just a fleeting moment, that it means as much to him as it does to you.

He pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m sure,” he says, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s something real. And I don’t want to lose it.”

The sincerity in his words, in his eyes, soothes the lingering doubts in your mind. You rest your head against his chest again, closing your eyes and letting his steady heartbeat calm you.

“Okay,” you whisper, a sense of peace settling over you.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, and you feel his smile against your hair.

You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, content in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside might be complicated, full of uncertainties and challenges, but in this room, in each other’s arms, there’s only warmth, safety, and the promise of something more.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the night catches up with you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep begins to pull you under. Lando’s presence is a comforting anchor, his arms around you a safe haven that you don’t want to leave. As you drift off, the last thing you’re aware of is the steady rhythm of his breathing, a lullaby that carries you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When you wake, it’s to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, the events of the night before hazy and surreal in your sleep-fogged mind. But then you feel the warmth beside you, the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath your cheek, and everything comes rushing back.

You lift your head slightly, taking in the sight of him asleep beside you. His face is relaxed, peaceful in a way that makes him seem younger, almost boyish. The morning light softens his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks. He looks so different from the cocky, self-assured boy who strides into the diner every evening, his swaggering confidence replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart swelling with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. It’s strange, how quickly things have changed between you, how one night can alter the course of your life so drastically. But as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you can’t find it in yourself to regret anything that’s happened.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him as you slip out of bed. The cool air of the room hits your bare skin, making you shiver as you pull on the discarded shirt from the night before. It smells faintly of him, a comforting scent that makes you smile as you button it up.

Quietly, you pad over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly to peer outside. The rain has stopped, leaving the world fresh and clean, the grass glistening with morning dew. The sky is a soft blue, streaked with the pink and gold of the rising sun. It’s a beautiful morning, the kind that makes everything seem possible, like the whole world is brimming with promise.

But as you stand there, the doubts start to creep back in. What happens now? The question lingers in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Last night was incredible, a perfect moment in time, but what about today? What about tomorrow? You and Lando come from such different worlds—how can this possibly work in the long run?

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him stir until his arms slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “What are you thinking about?”

You sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Just… wondering what happens now.”

His hold tightens slightly, as if he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. “We talked about this last night, remember? We’ll figure it out.”

“I know, but…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s just—everything’s so different in the daylight. Last night felt like a dream, like we were in our own little world. But now…” You trail off, unsure how to articulate the anxiety gnawing at you.

Lando is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he follows your gaze out the window. Finally, he turns you around to face him, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still here, and so are you. We can make this work.”

“But how?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “We barely know each other. What if… what if this doesn’t last? What if it all falls apart?”

He studies you for a moment, his expression serious. “Do you really believe that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work. I don’t want to lose… whatever this is.”

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I’m scared too, if I’m honest. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. But that’s why we have to try, yeah? Because it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, makes your heart skip a beat. He’s right, of course. You know he is. You’ve spent so much time playing it safe, keeping yourself hidden away, that the idea of something real, something that could actually mean something, terrifies you. But it’s also what you’ve been longing for—someone to break through the walls you’ve built around yourself, to show you that there’s more to life than just getting by.

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly as you try to push past the fear. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on this. Not on you.”

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, soothing the anxiety that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it won’t be easy, maybe there will be challenges you can’t even foresee yet, but standing here in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the risk.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to hope. To believe that things might actually work out.

After a while, he gently nudges you towards the bed. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep,” he suggests, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

But you shake your head, smiling up at him. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you say, feeling a strange surge of determination. “Let’s not waste it.”

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Always so practical,” he teases, though there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart flutter. “Alright, let’s get dressed. But I’m warning you, I’m taking you out for breakfast. Proper breakfast, not just coffee at the diner.”

The mention of the diner brings you back to reality, the thought of going back to your usual routine, of facing the world outside this room, suddenly feeling daunting. But Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes give you the courage you need to take that first step.

You both dress in comfortable silence, the weight of what’s to come hanging between you, but there’s no sense of dread, only a quiet resolve. Once you’re both ready, Lando grabs his jacket, offering you a lopsided grin as he swings it over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice light but his eyes serious.

You take a deep breath, nodding as you take his hand. “Ready.”

Together, you step out of the motel room, the morning sun casting long shadows on the gravel beneath your feet. The world outside feels different now, not quite as daunting, not quite as overwhelming. With Lando beside you, his hand warm in yours, you feel like you can face whatever comes your way.

As you walk towards the motorcycle, you glance up at him, a question forming in your mind. “So, where are we going?”

He grins, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “Another one of your surprises, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Trust me, you’ll like this one.”

And strangely enough, you do trust him. Maybe that’s the most surprising thing of all—how quickly you’ve come to rely on him, to feel safe with him, even though he’s nothing like the kind of person you’d ever imagined yourself with.

But life has a funny way of surprising you, of taking you down paths you never expected. And as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping your arms around his waist, you realise that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found exactly what you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The engine roars to life beneath you, and with a thrill of anticipation, you hold on tight as Lando pulls out of the car park and onto the open road. The wind rushes past, the world blurring around you, but you don’t feel lost anymore. You’re heading into the unknown, yes, but you’re not alone.

As you ride through the countryside, the morning sun rising higher in the sky, casting everything in a golden light, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges you face, you know you’ll figure it out—together.

And that, you think, might just be enough.

Lando’s voice cuts through the wind, loud enough for you to hear over the roar of the engine. “You alright back there?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on his shoulder, and smile. “I’m perfect.”

He laughs, a sound that’s full of life, full of promise, and you feel it resonate deep within you. This is just the beginning, you realise. The start of something new, something real. Something that could change everything.

As the miles stretch out before you, the road winding through the countryside, you hold on tight to Lando, to the future that’s waiting for you just beyond the horizon. It’s a future you never expected, with a boy you never imagined would mean so much to you.

But it’s yours now, and you’re ready to embrace it with open arms.

The open road lies ahead, and with Lando by your side, you’re finally ready to see where it leads.

its so true its not even funny anymore

Just when I think I can’t love Oscar Piastri more I learn that apparently he made his parent read him car magazines instead of bedtime stories as a little kid

huge fan of reading and learning, but also an even bigger fan of sleeping and being unconscious.

screamed (no s) Charles' fanfiction is SO underrated I literally cannot dhdjdshjds

summary: your relationship with charles has hit a rough patch that's left you feeling unsure about your future together. this leaves him utterly resolved to patch things up with you--and perhaps make you a mother in the process. rating: nc-17 pairing: f!reader/charles content warnings: established relationship, smut, breeding kink/impregnation, brief allusions to lactation kink, creampies, charles leclerc consumed with lust for the rest of the (met gala) evening word count: 2.0k previous one-shot - lewis h. | beginning one-shot - george r.

In a matter of hours, the gentle golden emergence of the rising sun would break through the dark blue hue of the Manhattan skyline, signaling the birth of a new day.

While you would have loved to indulge in the chance to witness the city stir from slumber, you were much too preoccupied to consider the thought.

After all, there was simply no way that Charles was going to let you leave the bed anytime soon.

A stormy argument about the direction and future of your relationship followed by weeks of separation and declined calls and texts–needless to say, you both had endured quite the tumultuous patch together as of late.

You just didn’t expect reconciliation to transpire at the Met Gala of all places.

After all, with your blossoming career as one of Hollywood’s newest A-list starlet, an invite from Anna Wintour was to be expected this year–something that Charles was aware of, having been the one to hand deliver your formal letter of invitation to you with a curious look on his face when the envelope arrived in the mail back home in Monaco.

And while someone as prolific as him would have no issues being at the fashionable affair that was the Met Gala, by this point only the likes of Lewis and Daniel have ever had the chance to grace The Met's most lavish evening in the past.

Yet as you carried yourself graciously along the red carpet for both the press and the public while adorned in a dress that exuded Versace’s signature extravagant elegance, even you couldn’t fully hold back your surprise when you saw Charles standing beside Lewis as they were interviewed by Vogue.

Whereas his teammate–as to be expected–was fully dressed down in theme and did most of the talking, your boyfriend took on a more reserved approach while dressed simply in one of Dior’s in-season suits. By this alone, you just knew that he likely begged Lewis–what with close association to Anna–to help him gain access to the gala.

Charles did try calling you over the weekend to no avail, so he most definitely had been pushed beyond what he could withstand amidst your current separation.

As you were soon politely requested by event staff to continue further into The Met to clear the red carpet for newly arrived guests, there was no chance for you to stand back and wait for Charles’s interview to finish in hopes that he would move on ahead without him noticing your presence.

Such hopes were futile.

Amidst the bustling fanfare of the Met Gala’s red carpet, amidst being in an interview with one of the biggest fashion publications in the world, those familiar jade green eyes of his still found their way to yours.

In that very moment, there was no one else in sight save for you and him.

The gnawing pain from the harsh words flung at each other during that argument, the lingering anguish of bearing the love you still had for him–all came rushing forward as you reluctantly stepped ever closer towards where he was standing.

Thankfully for you, his interview did in fact conclude.

Mainly because the Vogue correspondent was set on speaking with you next.

Yet as both Lewis and Charles were set to proceed onwards, the former quickly giving you a sheepish smile and his hands clasping together as a gesture for your forgiveness, the latter maintained his ground.

After evading him for so long, you were finally within reach. Why else would he move?

Still, because he was here thanks to Lewis’s ties with Anna, he had no choice but to abide by his teammate slinging an arm around his shoulder and ushering him on ahead.

Charles did make sure to send a glance back your way, his stare lingering and burning.

A silent declaration that this wouldn’t be the last time you would see him tonight.

And knowing him, he would absolutely make sure of that.

While a shiver shot up along your back, you smiled ever so graciously towards the Vogue team as you approached them, your expression composed, dignified, and most of all–camera ready.

The interview was quick and lively, smiles and giggles all around between you and the correspondent as you expressed your excitement over having the chance to attend the renowned event.

But from then on however, you were on edge while fulfilling your obligations as a guest. Touring around The Met’s exhibition for this year, meeting with the likes of Anna herself and other top level figureheads across the fashion and entertainment industry, enjoying catering at the Versace table while you flaunted your dress for their social media team, joining the photos of previous castmates and other acting acquaintances–whether required or not, you dived head first into anything you could as to avoid Charles.

But you of all people knew that once he had his eyes set on anything, he would stop at nothing until he had it firmly clutched within his hand.

Hell, that was how the two of you even got together in the first place.

However, with you being dressed like heaven itself, this made mobility all the more difficult whereas he–far too used to making his way around a party for the elites–would be as efficient in his movements.

You thought you would find sanctuary by opting to head back to The Met’s exhibition hall while everyone else was busy either dancing the night away at a special performance by Lady Gaga or gearing up to hit the town for an afterparty but as you returned to the main showcase, you realized you assumed wrong.

The abrupt click and drag of your heel rang throughout the room as you halted your steps, your eyes immediately growing wide as you caught the familiar silhouette of Charles while he was inspecting some of the exhibit pieces.

Instinctively, you spun on your heel as you prepared to leave in a hurry.

But the heartache that could be heard with the call of your name stopped you from taking even another step.

Your chest felt tight as you slowly turned to face him, only to be met with his intense gaze as he stared you down, making you feel petrified in place.

Was it instinct? Fate? Of all places to be, your mind raced in wonder how he seemed to anticipate you coming to the exhibition hall.

It would be a realization to be had much later, but while you and your Versace designer were friendly acquaintances, the prince of Ferrari and one of Italy’s most acclaimed fashion houses were basically family.

If he was looking for his princess, of course they would help him track you down.

And now, with him standing before you, there was nowhere else for you to slip away to, no call or text you could just ignore.

All that was left were Charles’s awaiting arms as he approached you.

His hands cradled your waist, his lips fell by your ear.

Gently, he murmured that the two of you ought to take your much-needed conversation elsewhere.

And by elsewhere, he meant his hotel–a top-floor suite at the Ritz Carlton that he managed to attain despite The Met Gala weekend turning Manhattan into a fight for accommodations.

During the taxi ride over, you couldn’t help but think back to your fight–concern and frustration over your relationship, a questioning of his commitment to you as it felt more and more that you were taking a backseat in his life in his pursuit of furthering his career, a contrast to how you were able to support him while still minding over your growth as an actor.

It made you worry whether he even had any interest in starting and nurturing a family together, something you’ve expressed interest in wanting as your romance with him blossomed.

Yet as you were led into his room, his fingers intertwined tightly with yours as he guided you forward, all such doubts were finally eased and calmed as your Versace and his Dior made their way to the floor.

Back at The Met, the festivities continued on well into the night, the party having yet to relent amongst its high-profile guests. 

Outside the Ritz-Carlton, the ceaseless buzz proceeded on, locals and tourists alike enjoying the warm spring evening while drivers stuck in their cars bemoaned the usual evening traffic.

But within Charles’s hotel room, the mood was much different.

So yearning, so apologetic, so desperate.

Not once did your lover dare to separate from you, nor permit you to stray away in the slightest.

Weeks of separation made every and any contact between your nude bodies a glorious reunion.

Maintaining his position on top of you with utmost gratitude, Charles reaffirmed where he stood in terms of your relationship by the press of his lips and the caress of his fingers.

Between kisses–some sweet and tender, others much more ferocious with need–he offered his heartfelt apologies, whether uttered with gentle sincerity or affirmed amidst shuddered groans.

You were left to writhe and shudder beneath his hands as they massaged and kneaded your breasts, the fine bristles of his stubble tickling your skin while his lips relentlessly suckled on your nipples.

Almost as though he was trying to drink milk out of them.

Though you had no drink to offer, he opted to feast from your cunt instead. His face happily buried between your thighs, the tip of his tongue switching between circling over your clit to dragging over the length of your drooling core, continuing on with this until you were practically crying out for him to fill you up with his cock already.

And who was he to deny you?

This was what led you to the present.

You and Charles, knelt together on the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist for purchase as he persisted with slamming the full length of his cock into you from behind. Your hands rested on his forearms, your nails digging into his skin as your eyes rolled back in ecstatic bliss, your cunt sopping wet from your own arousal and the many times that your lover had since orgasmed inside.

His lips were in the midst of marking up your neck between kisses and bites. While you were pristinely picture perfect for the media at the gala earlier, after your time apart, he was adamant in ensuring that anyone who so much looked your way would be quick to realize that you belonged to him.

Though, he was also very much determined to go a step further in getting this particular point across.

Charles kissed right up to your ear, his voice rasp with desire as he declared, “I’ll risk it all for you, mon couer. Any day. Any time.”

His hands planted right over your stomach tenderly while he groaned out, “Anything for the woman who I want to bear my children.”

Your eyes flew wide open as you gasped out his name.

He hissed in delight upon feeling your cunt immediately clench around his cock, compelling him to piston into you even harder. “I haven’t touched myself while we’ve been apart, you know. All because I wanted to save everything up for you, for your womb.”

Hearing you whimper and moan in joy prompted him to bring his fingers up to your chin, cupping it tenderly as he turned your head to the side, having you face him while he looked directly into your eyes. His voice firm with resolve, he proclaimed, “I see my future with you, mon couer. With you and our children. So please–”

Proceeding to smother your lips for a kiss, his words were muffled as he pleaded with dire desperation, “–take every drop I have. I beg you to not let anything spill.”

“Yes Charles,” you moaned blissfully against his mouth. “I’ll take everything you give.”

And with that, the hot rush of his seed flooded deep into your cunt once again, with plenty more in store.

It would be a considerable amount of time until the two of you would have your fill of one another.

While the two of you would certainly find yourselves sleeping through the rise of the morning sun, as you and Charles remained happily nestled in each other’s arms, you both were at peace, knowing this would be the start of a new chapter for your relationship:

The birth of your family to be.

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

it may be 420 today but instead of weed, we're here to enjoy BREED 🤰🙆‍♀️

but with this!!! AAAAHHH it is done!!! 2 polls, 1300 votes, 7 drivers, 7 tropes, 7 one-shots--"poll positions" has officially reached its conclusion!!! 🥳🍾

thank you all so very much again for participating, whether you joined the polls, read any of the one-shots, liked/reblogged/commented--i am truly grateful for your support!!! 🥹❤️🙇‍♀️❤️

as i continue to delve further with writing for these vroom vroom mfs, please i'd love to hear any suggestions for future works/fic events!!! lmk who you'd like to see works written for, if you'd be down for another round of "poll positions" with a different theme, tropes/aus you'd want to read--i'm all ears and my inbox is open 👂💌

thanks again and i'll see you around!!! 🤝💕

Deadpool: *on fire*

Wolverine: STAY STILL *trying to use him to light his cigar*

I NEED THIS BIBLICALLY PLEASE

I DID SOMETHING ACCIDENTALLY 😭😭

That man loves his country more than the Spanish economy loves its people

seeing people say "oh of course carlos brings ferrari here too with the red and yellow in his helmet" HE'S SPANISH ??? HAVE YOU SEEN THE FLAG ??? DO YOU KNOW HOW PATRIOTIC THAT MAN IS ??? LEAVE HIM TF ALONE

THE QUEEN IS BACK YA'LL. SICK AND SUFFERING BACK FROM THE DEAD CALL HER JESUS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🗣️🥶🥶🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🥶🥶🥶

TASTE … ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando calls off his arrangement with his best friend for a new girl — but all he can think of is her.

contains: a little bit of angst, lando with another girl (brief smut), smut; dom!lando, brief sub!lando, body worship, oral (f + m), fingering, face-sitting, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of anal; a bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x female character (ella ainsley)

... pretty morning streams of sunlight beamed through lando norris’ apartment windows — illuminating the blonde hair splayed on the right side of his bed. white sheets were tangled between two warm bodies, one with pinkish-red scratch marks littered down his back, and the other with light brown bruises squeezed into her hips.

who, you ask? these were the almost entwined bodies of lando norris and his best friend, ella ainsley. well, they weren't just best friends, they were something a little more - best friends with benefits, or best friends who used each other to burn off a few calories and release some pent up sexual desperation.

however, arrangements like these hardly ever end well - and it was the same for the case of lando and ella.

"morning." ella murmured as she noticed lando intently gazing at her in the early beams of light.

"morning pretty girl." he rasped, voice a little croaky as his eyes fluttered open and closed a few times. "sleep well?"

"as always." she smiled groggily, letting her eyes naturally close for a few seconds, before her gaze fell back to the brit practically on top of her. "you?"

"always when i'm with you." he breathed out, staring at her for a moment or two, before pulling his gaze away from and rolling over.

lando got out of bed with a large stretch, muscles in his back contorting as his shoulders rolled back, ella's eyes fixated on him - he was so gorgeous.

"breakfast?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows as he rubbed his eye with his knuckles — stood there in his black boxers and nothing else.

“mhm.” she nodded sleepily with a small smile.

now, these two seem very cuddly and lovey — don’t they? ella thought so too, so the events of the following week severely surprised and hurt her - a lot.

“i’m calling it off.” lando said as they sat in his car. "going on a date tomorrow night, sorry.”

his tone was blunt but soft — like he didn’t care but he did? men were so confusing.

“oh.” she said simply, blinking at him. “okay.”

originally, ella thought his message had been one of those messages, telling her to get ready to be picked up by him, but clearly not.

“what’s her name?” she asked, glancing over at him as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap.

“um… luna.” he nodded, the air in the car having now grown extremely thick.

“oh, okay.” ella replied quietly. “i look forward to meeting her.”

…

of course she didn’t look forward to meeting her.

ella spent the rest of the evening in her apartment, wondering what this meant for their friendship. surely there was no way of coming back from this - lando had ruined her for anyone else.

there was no way that anyone could compare to him, in a lot of ways. she thought it was completely impossible for anyone to make her see literal constellations on her ceiling, for anyone to make her cry the tears of torturous pleasure, for anyone to make her so loud.

lando’s date went quite well, luna was polite and nice, and pretty too. the two went back to her apartment — lando never brought girls back to his apartment, in fear of media and paparazzi.

her apartment was nice, he felt lost though. her hand led him to her bedroom immediately — this all felt a little wrong.

usually, with ella, she’d come round to his place, they’d have dinner, watch a movie, and let it happen naturally — this whole straight away thing felt a little forced.

she didn’t even bother kissing him, instead she was straight onto her knees and working at his dress pants roughly. was it bad he missed the feeling of someone’s lips all over his jaw and neck and collarbone and chest and abs? how softly her hands would undo his belt or untie the strings of his joggers? how she’d suck dark hickeys on his v-line as she tugged his clothes to the floor?

he wasn’t even hard. like, there was a little bit of blood rushing south but nowhere near enough to make him useful to her.

well, he wasn’t hard until her lips wrapped around him and descended down. she didn’t even gag. usually, well before ella, he would have found that so hot — but ella had the worst gag reflex on the planet, but she’d keep going nonetheless — gazing up at him as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

“mhm.” he hummed as her tongue brushed over the sensitive slit at the tip of his cock.

it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know what he liked — so he couldn’t complain.

she must have been on that floor for the best part of fifteen minutes? he was getting closer to something, maybe stimulation or something but it most definitely wasn’t an orgasm.

“come here.” he mumbled, pulling her up to him, pushing her back on the bed.

they weren’t even naked, yet he quickly spread her legs and pulled her underwear to the side. after quickly rolling a condom over himself, he ran his cock through her folds a few times, not really bothering to make sure she was properly lubed up as he would do usually — before pushing in.

it didn’t take her long to cum, maybe a few minutes? still, he didn’t cum, nevertheless he pulled out with a fake moan, slipping the condom off of him quickly and tossing it in the bin near him.

“that was… incredible.” she panted out, sitting up. “are you going to stay the night?”

“um.” he pursed his lips — quick, think of a lie. “sorry, i can’t, got to be up early for a team meeting.”

a team meeting, really? in the middle of the summer break?

…

for ella, it wasn't now the fact that when she had sex she didn't cum, it was the fact that she couldn't cum, full stop.

she'd even enlisted the help of her ex-boyfriend, jack. it was easy, really, ella had messaged him saying she missed him and asked if he wanted to come over.

surprise, surprise, he was of no use to her.

so, when a new week rolled around, both parties were distraught. lando for being such an idiot and calling off the deal, ella for not being able to cum no matter how hard she tried.

she was adamant that tonight was the night.

ella had even gone out and treated herself to some new lingerie — the prettiest deep blue matching bra and underwear from victoria’s secret.

she had to admit, she looked hot.

her delicate fingers shamefully ran down her tummy, squeezing the skin gently as the others toyed with her nipples.

usually, by now, she’d be writhing underneath lando and begging him for more — but he wasn’t here and neither was the pleasure he’d bring with him.

she imagined it was his veiny hands travelling down her body like a well-trained explorer, paying attention to the dips of her hips and the small bump of her v-line. it did something momentary for her, heat flushing down her inner thighs, but it quickly died along her chest after rolling up her tummy.

"fuck." she groaned, and not in a good way.

ella was about to reach to her bedside cabinet for one of her helpers, when a frantic knock echoed through her apartment — who on earth was at her door at seven on a sunday evening?

sluggishly, ella crawled out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping it around her body.

knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!

"god, okay, i'm coming." she huffed as she walked toward the door.

and there he was — the subject of her torture and her desires.

"la-"

hands frantically cupped her cheeks, pressing a needy kiss to her lips — okay, this definitely wasn't something that they usually did. nevertheless, she melted into the kiss, her hands travelling to the back of his head as he walked them forward and kicked the door shut behind him.

she pulled away reluctantly — "woah, woah, woah. what are you doing here? i thought you called the deal off?"

"i did, i missed you." he nodded, going to lean in desperately again, but he was stopped by her index finger on his lips.

"what the fuck are you doing then?" ella raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer from the brit.

"i like you, like a lot, ells." he blurted out. "like more than best friends."

what. the. fuck.

"huh." was all she could muster, blinking rapidly up at him.

"i mean if you don't feel the same i'll leave and we can—"

"no, no — just say it again so i know i'm not going insane." she shook her head, reassuring him that he wasn't about to be kicked out.

"ella ainsley, i like you, a lot."

"wow." her mouth hung slightly agape, and with a laugh, she continued, "oh! sorry, i like you too, so much."

"thank god." he breathed out, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "come here, pretty girl."

lando stepped forward and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist — she thought she could have actually cum from the action alone.

"be my girlfriend, please?"

"well, since you asked so nicely," she smiled with a blush. "yes, i will be your girlfriend, lando norris."

"good, 'cause i wasn't going to give you a choice anyway." he laughed softly, pressing another gentle peck to her lips as he navigated his way to her bedroom.

she rolled her eyes with a giggle, adjusting her arms around his neck as he walked through the doorway and toward her double bed. lando put her down on her feet, quickly undoing the bow at the front of her dressing gown — expecting her to be in pyjamas underneath or something.

his jaw hit the floor along with the robe — she looked fucking divine.

"fucking hell." he breathed out with a low groan, drinking in her body under the lace set — blue always was one of his favourite colours. "jesus ells."

"you like it?" she asked, the most innocent look in her eyes.

"fucking love it." he rasped, gently shoving her back onto the bed and taking his shirt off immediately. "look gorgeous."

an adorable blush spread across her features and a smile painted itself across her lips.

immediately, he leant down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck, trailing down to her chest — tapping her side and mumbling, "up," prompting her to arch up her back so he could undo her bra.

lando expertly unclasped the mechanism and slid the material off of her body, tossing it to the side. soft moans left her lips as he attached his lips to one of her nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. two of his fingers travelled up to her mouth, tapping at her lips softly so he could slide his digits in.

she welcomed them warmly, sucking on them softly as he pressed them against her tongue. lando then quickly pulled them out with a low groan, and brought said fingers down to her other nipple, pinching and softly rolling it in between his fingers.

"please." ella whined as heat fizzed and bubbled all over her body.

"hm, what was that?" lando teased, looking directly up at her with a small smirk.

"lando.." she groaned with a small laugh. "just get on with it."

"how romantic." he joked, letting his now free hand travel down to her abdomen.

he hooked his fingers under the waistband of her underwear and pulled it up, letting it snap back against her tummy. lando watched the dazed look in her eyes as he shuffled downward, letting his lips press soft kisses on her stomach along the way — before latching his teeth onto her panties and slowly pulling them down.

god, he was a sight for sore eyes.

lando quickly then pulled them off the rest of the way, and spread her legs wide open before him. ella thought she had ascended to heaven when he gently let his spit find its way to her pussy, lubing her to no end.

he was merciless, giving her no warning at all before his tongue was aggressively flicking at her clit and two of his thick fingers were stuffed deep inside of her, finding that spongey spot that drove her wild.

"lando... fuck." she moaned loudly, trying to close her legs around his head, but failing when they fell weak upon feeling his spare hand pressing down on her lower stomach. "god... yes!"

he murmured something incoherently hot into her folds, the vibrations causing the magic knot in her stomach to coil nice and tight.

it was like heaven on earth. his lips sucked at her clit messily and the most lewd sounds were emerging from her due to her wetness and lando's extra lube — god, he loved it.

"lan—" she whimpered, she fucking whimpered; lando could have died in her pussy a happy man right there and then.

her mind flashed with warm colours, like warning lights in a factory — something was different about how he felt, and it was sending her barrelling toward her first orgasm of the evening.

"fuck, ells." lando groaned into her when her hand needily grabbed at his hair, running her nails through his mullet — she was definitely a mullet fan now.

"god — so close." ella whined so desperately, so loudly.

lando knew what made her tick — always had, always would. so, it was natural for him when he gently squeezed her clit between his teeth and scissored his fingers apart just that little bit harder — and it was no surprise to him when she fucking fluttered around him, her inner walls shaking violently as she came all over his fingers.

he pulled them out quickly, replacing his fingers with his tongue so he could taste the remnants of her ecstasy — so fucking sweet.

"taste so good, baby." he mumbled as he licked a stripe up her cunt.

her hips bucked away from his mouth, but his arms held her firmly downward — "hey, let me taste you, ells."

"too much." she breathed out, not really meaning it, but she felt so sensitive right now it was insane. "let me make you feel good, yeah?"

the words coming from her mouth made lando's head shoot up and look at her from between her thighs — "don't worry about me, darling."

"no, no." she shook her head. "i want to — missed your cock in my mouth." ella felt strange saying such lewd things but she could tell it was definitely turning lando on.

"oh yeah?" he teased. "missed me in your mouth?"

"yeah, always turns me on." she nodded quickly, sitting up. "on the bed, lan."

lando, for once, did as he was told. he sat on the bed as she got to her knees as quickly as possible.

he was wearing these baggy blue jeans with a basic black belt — ella's favourite pair because they were so easy to undo, even when she had nails on.

she undid the buckle and unbuttoned the jeans, before yanking them down his legs and let them pool at his ankles — too eager to throw them to the side.

ella took his cock in her hand, tracing her finger up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, earning a shudder from the driver above her. on the other hand, ella also knew what made lando tick, she knew he was a sucker for eye contact, that he would melt when she praised him, and the slit of his cock and his tip? she was sure she could get him to come without even touching any other part of him.

after sliding the pad of her thumb over his sensitive tip, and making his hips stutter up into her hand, ella got to work. as soon as her lips wrapped around his tip, lando's hand had gathered her hair back into a makeshift ponytail and was tightly holding it. she always did this, and it never failed — as if it was a routine; tease him by sucking on his tip for a little, then kiss his cock all over while muttering praises to him, and then literally go to fucking town on him while gazing up at him with pretty doe eyes — worked every fucking time.

so that's what she did.

"fucking hell, ells." lando moaned lowly as her tongue swirled around his tip, swiping over his slit every now and again.

she kept going until he was whining and whimpering, bucking his hips away from oversensitivity even though he hadn't cum yet. she then leant down and ran her tongue from the base to tip, before leaving messy lip gloss stains up his cock.

"good boy." she praised softly as he whined out, biting his lower lip and tossing his head back. "such a pretty boy."

"god—" he whimpered loudly. "fucking hell, baby, don't stop."

she pretended as if she was going to keep going, sticking her tongue out to lick him again, before quickly lifting her head up and sinking him slowly into her mouth.

her gag reflex kicked in around halfway down his cock, her throat convulsing and fluttering around him as he hit her tonsils — but she didn't care. tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she began to bob her head, fast.

"god...” lando groaned, head tossed back and hand gripping her hair so tightly as he began to thrust softly up into her mouth. "ella..."

it was so good he couldn't even look at her — he knew that if he looked at the angel between his legs then he was a dead man.

and boy was he right.

a brief look at the woman on her knees with her mouth wrapped around his aching cock was enough to make him spiral — a guttural groan left his lips and his hips bucked up into her mouth, the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat making thick ropes of hot cum spill into her mouth, coating her tonsils generously.

"fuck, ells." lando panted heavily, wiping a small bit of his release off of the side of her mouth — before pushing it into her mouth again.

he went soft for a few seconds, but the sight of her getting up and sitting on his lap? that made all the blood rush straight back to his cock, aching and twitching.

"no, no." he tutted.

with his strength alone, he lifted her from his lap and laid himself down on the bed, putting her down on his face. ella almost yelped at the feeling of his nose pressing against her clit, her hips lifting off of him immediately.

"sensitive, baby?" he teased, hands squeezing her ass firmly — earning a quick nod. "what a shame."

lando's hands stayed planted firmly on her ass cheeks, kneeding them softly as he pulled her back down onto his face. his nose pressed against her clit as his tongue slipped inside of her, swirling around her walls — her thighs clenched around his head harshly.

slowly but surely, the sensitivity faded to overwhelming pleasure, and ella began to grind her hips back and fourth, whiny, airy moans leaving her lips every time her clit was poked by his nose.

"fuck—" she moaned loudly, frantically searching for purchase with her hands, finally finding home in his hair. "lando... yes—"

it was when her thighs began to clench and shake, when her walls began to flutter around his tongue, when her hands grabbed extra hard at his hair, when her moans turned airy and high-pitched — he knew.

the feeling of his nose grinding against her clit sent her over the edge, combined with his conveniently long tongue pressing against her g-spot — she was well and truly gone.

“yeah — right there. fuck!”

lando didn’t let up at all, if anything, his efforts doubled. his nose dug into her clit, sending her flying over the edge. the warm liquid gushed out of her, coating his lips and nose and cheeks and chin — he relished the moment like it was his last alive. her legs trembled and shook like a fucking earthquake, his nose now tapping against her sensitive spots as she bucked her hips from oversensitivity.

"god—" ella panted out, lando moving her back onto his lap, before then flipping her over so her perfect ass was high up in the air for him.

he could see her pretty entrance clenching and relaxing, fluttering in the harsh aftershocks of her orgasm — drawing him in.

"gonna let me have this one day, aren't you, pretty girl?" lando cooed, his voice soft but raspy, with his thumb toying with the untouched hole enticing him — anal was something he'd always wanted to try with ella, and ella only.

"yeah — uh huh." she babbled, her hips voluntarily pushing back toward him, now feeling incredibly empty without him stuffed deep inside of her, one way or another. "please."

"give me a second, baby." he rasped, leaning over to her bedside cabinet to grab a condom — only for her hand to swat his away.

"no, want to feel you properly." ella whined. "need to."

"are you sure, ells?" lando asked quietly — they'd never had sex without a condom before.

"i'm sure." she replied, looking back at him, blinking at the driver in anticipation.

lando actually thought he could have died right there and then, her begging was driving him insane. "okay." he panted out.

he softly presses forward, running the tip of his aching cock through her folds — his member pressing against her clit briefly. lando groaned out at the feeling of his sensitive tip sliding inside of her, feeling whole and complete and at home inside her.

no time was wasted, he was pumping in and out of her almost immediately, tapping her g-spot delicately to taunt her.

she whined and whimpered and writhed underneath him, moaning incoherently as he fucked her senseless. her hips pushed back against him to meet his steady thrusts - he immediately knew that meant she wanted it harder, but not faster.

lando quickly altered the angle at which he was pushing forward at, and he could straight away tell that was what she needed. his thick cock was now slamming against her g-spot, and it made him even more determined to ruin her. a veiny hand reached between her legs, flicking effortlessly at her clit, her hips jolting and legs buckling as his thumb circled it quickly. he wanted to make her fall apart.

not that he could see it, but tears were streaming down her face, moans turning needier and more carnal as he started to whimper louder than he was previously.

"touch yourself, baby." he commanded, voice sultry and low.

her hand made its way to her dripping pussy, rubbing shapes and patterns on her clit, as lando's hand occupied itself with pressing down on her lower stomach.

one particularly deep thrust made her collapse, ella's lower body begging to be released, but the singular hand lando had placed on her stomach kept her up, doubling the size of the knot in her tummy in the process.

his name fell from her lips like a fucking prayer, rolling off of her tongue with such ease it might as well have been an everyday item - mixed with whines of 'right there' and 'don't stop, please.'

and fall apart she did.

another one of those impossibly deep thrusts sent her spiralling, tears streaming, throat raw, pussy clenching like her life depended on it. her whole body tensed and relaxed all at the same time, walls constricting around him, fluttering and shaking and squeezing so intensely lando though he was actually going to die.

he didn't die, but he did cum - hard. hot, thick liquid shot out of his tip, filling her up so much it began to leak out of her, dripping down her inner thighs as her legs shook harshly. he kept thrusting though his own orgasm, somehow, causing the familiar clear liquid to gush from her sensitive pussy and coat his balls, her legs, the once clean sheets - if he could take a photo, he would.

he pulled out as slowly as he could, very much aware of the fact that she would be sore after that entire ordeal. she winced softly, but lando just gazed down at her puckered hole, screaming and red, fluttering and unsure of what to do with itself without him stuffed inside.

"you okay, baby?" lando asked softly, rolling her onto her back gently.

"fuck- yeah... god." she babbled, breathless and heaving slightly.

he laughed airly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. he headed to the bathroom, and she closed her eyes. the next thing ella knew, a warm flannel was being pressed in between her legs, and her hips were involuntarily bucking away from the pressure.

"hey, hey, stay still, okay?" he quietly cooed, rubbing her inner thigh lovingly. "can you do that for me?"

an unsure hum left her lips, and after a few attempts, her body began to settle and lando continued to clean her up, wiping the remnants of their mixed release off of her body, and then afterward he scurried back off to the bathroom to do the same for himself.

lando returned again a few minutes later, holding a change of clothes and a glass of water for her - having now gotten dressed into some spare clothes he kept at her apartment.

"ells?" he murmured as he sat down next to her splayed out body on the bed. "i've got you some clothes, if you want them?"

she nodded, lifting her arms up into the air so she could put her arms through the t-shirt. she never let him dress her afterward, she must have been really out of it.

lando laughed fondly, helping the girl dress before assisting her into bed, tucking her in before crawling in next to her. it was natural for her to roll into his arms, and when she did, lando naturally pulled her in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"night, lan." she mumbled.

"goodnight, love."