alright, so, like. i think i should start with an apology??? shit lowkey hit the fan at the end of last year. uni, my family’s health, my living situation, and my mental and physical health basically all clocked out within the same month, and i’ve been putting out fires ever since. hence, my absence.
now, this post is unfortunately not a celebration of coming back to writing, but more a long-winded apology, and a thanks for everyone’s love on my stories these past months. i fell out of love with a lot of my hobbies, but i promise you, i will be back. the requests sitting in my inbox glare at me every time i open tumblr, but i will get to them one day.
the love you guys have for everything i’ve written, especially it might be heaven and like vines (it’s one of my favourite things i’ve probably ever written) has been getting me through some real hard days.
so i know it isn’t much, but i offer you my sincerest thanks, and hope that you’ll continue to show the same love when i eventually make my return. forever grateful, and eternally yours.
you know on your masterlist you have the call me Eden picture with lando and max, what is the original photo of max please? I was looking for it a while ago and asked a couple people but couldn't find it, thanks x
he’s marvellous, and i’m happy to share these photos with more people xx
summary: Mila finally gets the chance to explain why she left Lando on a lurch, but it didn't go down exactly how she had planned. Despite this, Lando reaches out to her in a time of need, but it didn't go down exactly how he had planned, either.
word count: 1702
warnings: swearing, talks of the Wembley incident, a little angst
Barely hours after Mila had sent a text to Lando, her phone was ringing, his contact photo lighting up her screen, and her face along with it. Mila wanted nothing more than to hold Lando against her body again, but she would compromise with just hearing his voice after the hurt she must have put him through the past few days.
As the call connected, there was silence for a few moments, neither wanting to begin a conversation that could lead to heartbreak or happiness.
“I’m glad you called.” Mila whispered, her voice delicate so as not to disturb the waters too much. The last thing she wanted right now was to create a tidal wave, one that she knew would lead to a dam bursting and every thought, feeling, and unsaid word would come out much harsher than intended.
“I’m glad you texted.” Lando mumbled in return. He was still hurt, he was still confused, and he was still a little angry. But he had every right to be, didn’t he?
“I’m sorry for not explaining things when you called last. I don’t know, I panicked, and I just couldn’t find the right words because you looked so hurt, and that’s honestly the last thing I ever wanted to do.” Mila spilled, all thoughts of waves and water far from her mind as an awkward silence settled over them. She had thought about what she could say to Lando, babysitting seemed the easiest and closest to the truth, and she could talk about the light of her life, her baby girl Mahri, without telling Lando that the toddler was actually hers. But when that stupid British accent in that high-pitched muppet voice asked her who she had over, she panicked.
“A friend. We went out for drinks, and she got too drunk and so she crashed with me because I didn’t drink a lot.” Mila replied, desperately searching her brain for the words to construct this horrible lie she had started spewing. The few seconds of silence on the line were tense, and Mila felt as though she might actually spew.
“Look, I don’t understand why you would text me wanting to clear up a misunderstanding just to lie to me. If you had a guy over, just fucking tell me Mila. I’d prefer if you straight up told me you fucked another dude than lie to me when I already know you did.” Lando snapped, his voice thick with tension and barely concealed anger. Mila regretted nearly every life decision that had led her to this situation. Why couldn’t she have gone with the babysitter story? Why couldn’t she just tell him about Mahri? Surely him getting scared away because she’s a mother would be better than hurting him and pissing the man off beyond belief.
“I didn’t have a guy over, Lando. I can 100% promise you that.” Mila tried to convince him, but her words fell on deaf ears, and she knew even before she finished speaking that there was no way to change his mind about it.
“It’s fine, Milana. I get it. I have to get back to training. Thanks for the talk, it really cleared things up.” Lando dismissed, plucking an excuse out of thin air. He hated how petty he sounded, but it was the only way to vent his frustrations to the woman without launching an all-out war against her.
“I’m sorry.” Mila whispered, realising a moment too late that Lando had already hung up, the screen fading back to the photo of her, Victoria and the boys on her lockscreen. Wishing, for the second time this week, that she could go back to the moment in time, even just for a few minutes. So with a heavy heart, and an even heavier sigh, Mila slid down the hallway wall, curling her knees to her chest in her eerily silent apartment.
BABY GIRLS | EDIE-BABY
It couldn’t be louder where Lando was. Walking through the concrete halls of Wembley stadium with his best friend talking about his failed conquests, coming off the back of a disappointing loss, Lando couldn’t really see his night getting any worse.
Until it did.
It happened in a blur really.
He felt hands, multiple of them. And they were rough. And they held on tight.
He felt the cold metal of his car against his back, penetrating through the suit jacket and tingling his spine.
He felt the distinct lack of weight on his wrist.
And then he felt nothing. Just space. Everywhere, all around him, and he didn’t know where he was in that space.
Max grasped at his wrist, the contact dragging him back down to reality. Max pushed him into the car, rushing around the machine to the passenger side where he slid in himself.
The feel of the seat against his legs and back were comforting, grounding, but his wrist.
His wrist felt weird. It was loose, free, lost.
His heart was pounding fast, but it felt like eternity between each beat. He could feel blood rushing in his head, but he felt so light headed he thought he might float away.
The drive home barely registered. He knows he didn’t crash, and he knows he got them home. He knows Max was on the phone, and he knows that not long after he got inside, Charlotte was walking in his front door, police not far behind her.
He didn’t know what he was doing until he picked up his phone and called Mila. Max was somewhere in the house, processing on his own, and everyone else had left. Lando didn’t like being alone when he was upset. He thought things he didn’t want to think, and Mila was the only person he thought of that could stop him from thinking.
The phone rang for far longer than Lando wanted it to, but finally Mila picked up. Confusion was as thick in her voice as sleep, and Lando wished he could have felt bad for waking her, but he had no more capacity for emotion.
“Lando? What’s up?” Mila questioned, wary not to poke the bear.
“Can you come to England? Stay for Silverstone? With me?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly. He hated being vulnerable, he hated being needy. But he wanted her there, needed her there.
“Baby boy, I wish I could, but I only just took a week off for Austria.” Mila replied, her mind whirring with all the reasons why Lando might be calling her sounding so desperate for company.
“You said when you were here you had a lot of holiday time saved up?” Lando probed, the guard around his voice falling lower and lower with every syllable.
“I do, but I can’t just call work tomorrow and tell them I’m fucking off for two weeks. Plus, I have university. It’s getting close to my exams, and besides I don’t even have the money to go on another trip right now.” Mila listed off the reasons she couldn’t join Lando, even though she wanted nothing more than to get on a plane right now. If she didn’t have Mahri, she would drop work and study to be with Lando in a heartbeat. She could tell he wasn’t okay, but she still couldn’t drop the baby bomb on him.
“I’ll pay for your entire stay, I don’t care. And you can study here, when I’m at the factory or on the simulator.” He supplied, hopeful. The desperation, the pain, the vulnerability, it struck Mila deep in the chest.
“Lando, I can’t. I’m so sorry. I wish I could.” Mila whispered, her voice breaking with the effort it took for her to force the words out. There was a sleeping baby in the next room the needed her, and as much as he did too, he was an adult.
“Why not? All you’ve given me are flimsy reasons. I asked you to come because I want you here, even though you lied to me about having a guy over, I still want you here. Does that mean nothing to you?” Lando demanded, his voice taking a shade of anger that Mila wasn’t expecting.
“I didn’t lie about having a guy over. I didn’t have a man in my house, and I don’t know how else I can tell you that. It hurts me to tell you that I can’t be there for you, because I want to be. But I have a life here, and I can’t drop it just because you’re calling for me. I’m trying to build a career and get an education. I’m sorry not all of us are entitled millionaire’s kids that don’t need to pull their own weight.” Mila fired back, repressed anger over everything in her life flowing out of her at once. She was surprised at herself, considering how upset she was for him just a moment ago, and now she was upset at him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. I told you I would pay for everything! But you’re just being an ungrateful bitch. Forget I asked, you’d probably end up fucking the rest of the drivers while you were here anyway.” Lando yelled, hanging up the phone with a grunt. He tossed it onto the couch, tugging at his hair with his hands so tight he felt pain. But he needed it, something else to focus on, something else to hurt.
Because he couldn’t take how his chest felt like it was caving in. Like there was this gaping hole where his heart used to be. Like every inch of his skin felt prickly. He wanted to ignore the aching in his ribs, the missing weight on his wrist, the crumbling of his heart, he just wanted her, and he couldn’t have her.
His knees buckled beneath him, sending his weight hurtling toward the carpeted floor. He was curled in an uncomfortable position, legs bent and arms twisted. But there was no point in moving, because it wasn’t going to stop the pain.
The tears that slid over his nose and across his cheeks were for a lot of things, but they weren’t for her. He wouldn’t let them be.
summary: Mila finally gets the chance to explain why she left Lando on a lurch, but it didn't go down exactly how she had planned. Despite this, Lando reaches out to her in a time of need, but it didn't go down exactly how he had planned, either.
word count: 1702
warnings: swearing, talks of the Wembley incident, a little angst
Barely hours after Mila had sent a text to Lando, her phone was ringing, his contact photo lighting up her screen, and her face along with it. Mila wanted nothing more than to hold Lando against her body again, but she would compromise with just hearing his voice after the hurt she must have put him through the past few days.
As the call connected, there was silence for a few moments, neither wanting to begin a conversation that could lead to heartbreak or happiness.
“I’m glad you called.” Mila whispered, her voice delicate so as not to disturb the waters too much. The last thing she wanted right now was to create a tidal wave, one that she knew would lead to a dam bursting and every thought, feeling, and unsaid word would come out much harsher than intended.
“I’m glad you texted.” Lando mumbled in return. He was still hurt, he was still confused, and he was still a little angry. But he had every right to be, didn’t he?
“I’m sorry for not explaining things when you called last. I don’t know, I panicked, and I just couldn’t find the right words because you looked so hurt, and that’s honestly the last thing I ever wanted to do.” Mila spilled, all thoughts of waves and water far from her mind as an awkward silence settled over them. She had thought about what she could say to Lando, babysitting seemed the easiest and closest to the truth, and she could talk about the light of her life, her baby girl Mahri, without telling Lando that the toddler was actually hers. But when that stupid British accent in that high-pitched muppet voice asked her who she had over, she panicked.
“A friend. We went out for drinks, and she got too drunk and so she crashed with me because I didn’t drink a lot.” Mila replied, desperately searching her brain for the words to construct this horrible lie she had started spewing. The few seconds of silence on the line were tense, and Mila felt as though she might actually spew.
“Look, I don’t understand why you would text me wanting to clear up a misunderstanding just to lie to me. If you had a guy over, just fucking tell me Mila. I’d prefer if you straight up told me you fucked another dude than lie to me when I already know you did.” Lando snapped, his voice thick with tension and barely concealed anger. Mila regretted nearly every life decision that had led her to this situation. Why couldn’t she have gone with the babysitter story? Why couldn’t she just tell him about Mahri? Surely him getting scared away because she’s a mother would be better than hurting him and pissing the man off beyond belief.
“I didn’t have a guy over, Lando. I can 100% promise you that.” Mila tried to convince him, but her words fell on deaf ears, and she knew even before she finished speaking that there was no way to change his mind about it.
“It’s fine, Milana. I get it. I have to get back to training. Thanks for the talk, it really cleared things up.” Lando dismissed, plucking an excuse out of thin air. He hated how petty he sounded, but it was the only way to vent his frustrations to the woman without launching an all-out war against her.
“I’m sorry.” Mila whispered, realising a moment too late that Lando had already hung up, the screen fading back to the photo of her, Victoria and the boys on her lockscreen. Wishing, for the second time this week, that she could go back to the moment in time, even just for a few minutes. So with a heavy heart, and an even heavier sigh, Mila slid down the hallway wall, curling her knees to her chest in her eerily silent apartment.
BABY GIRLS | EDIE-BABY
It couldn’t be louder where Lando was. Walking through the concrete halls of Wembley stadium with his best friend talking about his failed conquests, coming off the back of a disappointing loss, Lando couldn’t really see his night getting any worse.
Until it did.
It happened in a blur really.
He felt hands, multiple of them. And they were rough. And they held on tight.
He felt the cold metal of his car against his back, penetrating through the suit jacket and tingling his spine.
He felt the distinct lack of weight on his wrist.
And then he felt nothing. Just space. Everywhere, all around him, and he didn’t know where he was in that space.
Max grasped at his wrist, the contact dragging him back down to reality. Max pushed him into the car, rushing around the machine to the passenger side where he slid in himself.
The feel of the seat against his legs and back were comforting, grounding, but his wrist.
His wrist felt weird. It was loose, free, lost.
His heart was pounding fast, but it felt like eternity between each beat. He could feel blood rushing in his head, but he felt so light headed he thought he might float away.
The drive home barely registered. He knows he didn’t crash, and he knows he got them home. He knows Max was on the phone, and he knows that not long after he got inside, Charlotte was walking in his front door, police not far behind her.
He didn’t know what he was doing until he picked up his phone and called Mila. Max was somewhere in the house, processing on his own, and everyone else had left. Lando didn’t like being alone when he was upset. He thought things he didn’t want to think, and Mila was the only person he thought of that could stop him from thinking.
The phone rang for far longer than Lando wanted it to, but finally Mila picked up. Confusion was as thick in her voice as sleep, and Lando wished he could have felt bad for waking her, but he had no more capacity for emotion.
“Lando? What’s up?” Mila questioned, wary not to poke the bear.
“Can you come to England? Stay for Silverstone? With me?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly. He hated being vulnerable, he hated being needy. But he wanted her there, needed her there.
“Baby boy, I wish I could, but I only just took a week off for Austria.” Mila replied, her mind whirring with all the reasons why Lando might be calling her sounding so desperate for company.
“You said when you were here you had a lot of holiday time saved up?” Lando probed, the guard around his voice falling lower and lower with every syllable.
“I do, but I can’t just call work tomorrow and tell them I’m fucking off for two weeks. Plus, I have university. It’s getting close to my exams, and besides I don’t even have the money to go on another trip right now.” Mila listed off the reasons she couldn’t join Lando, even though she wanted nothing more than to get on a plane right now. If she didn’t have Mahri, she would drop work and study to be with Lando in a heartbeat. She could tell he wasn’t okay, but she still couldn’t drop the baby bomb on him.
“I’ll pay for your entire stay, I don’t care. And you can study here, when I’m at the factory or on the simulator.” He supplied, hopeful. The desperation, the pain, the vulnerability, it struck Mila deep in the chest.
“Lando, I can’t. I’m so sorry. I wish I could.” Mila whispered, her voice breaking with the effort it took for her to force the words out. There was a sleeping baby in the next room the needed her, and as much as he did too, he was an adult.
“Why not? All you’ve given me are flimsy reasons. I asked you to come because I want you here, even though you lied to me about having a guy over, I still want you here. Does that mean nothing to you?” Lando demanded, his voice taking a shade of anger that Mila wasn’t expecting.
“I didn’t lie about having a guy over. I didn’t have a man in my house, and I don’t know how else I can tell you that. It hurts me to tell you that I can’t be there for you, because I want to be. But I have a life here, and I can’t drop it just because you’re calling for me. I’m trying to build a career and get an education. I’m sorry not all of us are entitled millionaire’s kids that don’t need to pull their own weight.” Mila fired back, repressed anger over everything in her life flowing out of her at once. She was surprised at herself, considering how upset she was for him just a moment ago, and now she was upset at him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. I told you I would pay for everything! But you’re just being an ungrateful bitch. Forget I asked, you’d probably end up fucking the rest of the drivers while you were here anyway.” Lando yelled, hanging up the phone with a grunt. He tossed it onto the couch, tugging at his hair with his hands so tight he felt pain. But he needed it, something else to focus on, something else to hurt.
Because he couldn’t take how his chest felt like it was caving in. Like there was this gaping hole where his heart used to be. Like every inch of his skin felt prickly. He wanted to ignore the aching in his ribs, the missing weight on his wrist, the crumbling of his heart, he just wanted her, and he couldn’t have her.
His knees buckled beneath him, sending his weight hurtling toward the carpeted floor. He was curled in an uncomfortable position, legs bent and arms twisted. But there was no point in moving, because it wasn’t going to stop the pain.
The tears that slid over his nose and across his cheeks were for a lot of things, but they weren’t for her. He wouldn’t let them be.
so, i feel bad for taking so long with requests at the moment. i’m coming up on exam week at uni, but to compensate i’m posting chapter 4 of baby girls this friday (september 24th)
summary: Lando's descent into anger is fast, but not fast enough to get rid of the vivid memory of his Mila with someone else out of his head. Mila, on the other hand, struggles with the hypotheticals of her relationship, or at least what's left of it.
word count: 1004
warnings: swearing, the beginning of the angst
last chapter
Dreaming of the perfect woman while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until Lando woke up to the blaringly loud beeping of his alarm, the incessant assault on his eardrums was almost as painful as the realisation that Mila just wasn’t his.
After hanging up the phone last night, his mind swirled with the identity of her late-night company, and the look on her face when she realised he knew. She looked guilty, like she didn’t intend for Lando to find out so soon, like she didn’t intend for Lando to find out ever. And that just might have been what pushed Lando over the edge.
Falling into an abyss of anger was dangerous, with no rope to help you down or pull you back, anger becomes all consuming. Sometimes, if you let yourself feel it so strongly that it becomes your only emotion. Everything becomes clouded in red, a broad brush of fury painted over every moment you experience. Anger is the least productive emotion, but Lando didn’t have any other option.
He jumped into the abyss, the hurt, betrayal and regret that was seeping out of his pores turned to a burning hot anger. He forced his body out of bed, changing into workout gear to meet his trainer in the garden before they began their session. He could have really used some boxing gloves because he needed a release, and aside from some hardcore sex with Mila, he wasn’t going to get a proper release.
The training session with Jon Malvern went by faster than Lando would have liked, and for once he was asking Jon for something more. But there was nothing Jon gave him that would pump his blood fast enough to forget the way Mila’s touch got his heart racing. So he returned to his kitchen feeling angrier and, unfortunately, sadder than he had been that morning.
On the flip side, he found his best friend, a beacon of knowledge and wisdom, making a coffee on the opposite side of the island counter when he entered. Max, who had seen Lando’s odd behaviour the night before and decided not to comment on it, could see that his friend still wasn’t up to scratch.
“Mate, what’s going on? I have seen you this depressed since Abu Dhabi.” Max joked, taking in the slumped shoulders and heavy scowl on Lando’s face. At the mention of the desert country, Lando stiffened, a surefire indication that his mood was, indeed, related to a girl.
“Just bullshit. Every time I think I have an actual connection with a woman, she goes off and fucks someone else at the first opportunity.” Lando ranted, the barely concealed anger rumbled in his chest, desperate to let out his true feelings about Mila.
“So? Just do the same thing.” Max replied, shrugging his shoulders as if it was that easy. And usually for Lando, it was. But there was something about that tiny Czech that drew him in and kept him hostage.
“It’s not that easy. She’s just, in my fucking head constantly, and every time I close my eyes I see her. She fucked Max, Daniel and Charles while I knew her, and I heard her talking about it, but knowing she’s been with someone since we were together fucking hurts.” Lando continued, the anger he felt for Mila morphing further into the hurt he had initially felt. He tried pushing it down, to turn it back into the raging beast, but instead he was left feeling like a kicked puppy.
“Would you prefer she know how much she hurt you and continue to use that, or do you want her to see that she meant nothing to you either? I know what I’d do if I had as many girls at my disposal as you.” Max finished, walking out of the kitchen with his hot coffee and leaving his friend to stew in his thoughts. He knew what Lando would do; he hated losing, and especially hated when girls got one over on him. What Max didn’t know, however, was just how much Lando liked this girl, and the lengths he would go to show her he was better off without.
BABY GIRLS | EDIE-BABY
The days following her horrific call with Lando, Mila was barely present in the real world. The ‘what if’s and ‘if only’s began stepping in on her usually calm mind.
What if she told Lando about Mahri?
If only she could have told Lando the truth.
What if she had told Lando about Mahri in Austria?
If only she knew he was ready for a child to be in the middle of his relationship.
What if she hadn’t started falling in love with Lando after a few perfect days?
If only she knew how to keep her heart to herself.
What if she had brought Mahri to Austria?
If only, if only if only.
Her brain was fixated on making herself feel worse about the way she handled the phone call. There were so many other ways for her to deliver the news, so many lies that would have stopped her heart, and Lando’s, from breaking.
When four days had passed since the traumatic FaceTime, Mila worked up the courage to text Lando, having stared at their past conversations a lot in the hours without communication.
Hey, I know Silverstone is next week, but I was hoping we could talk? The other day was a misunderstanding, and I want to set things straight.
Mila felt good enough about her text, and the fact that she would have a few days to think of a cover story, maybe a friend was staying over from the night before? Or, closer to the truth, she could always say she was babysitting her niece? Feeling content with her attempt to reach out, Mila felt like she could get back to her life. The ball was in Lando’s court now, and she just hoped he knew what to do with it.
Hello everyone, this is going to be a big masterlist of all the Lando Norris stories, blurbs, one shots, imagines etc. that I recommend on tumblr. Everything is here, in one place, for you to enjoy 🧡
Hiii. Do you only write fluff or are you open to smut requests??
i’m open to smut requests! i know there’s no smut prompts on the list, but if you send in a general vibe and what driver you’d like i can make something happen !!
Hiiii. Can you please recommend other blogs with good Lando smut?? 🥺
so i don’t read a ton of lando smut tbh, i used to and these are some of my fav blogs that i read a lot of lando stuff from!! i’m def missing some too so if u write lando smut and i forgot u i’m so sorry feel free to leave a comment n self promote :-)
cant wait for chapter 3!!! And for lando to find out🤭🥰
me either! i have two huge essays due this week and next that i’ll be focusing on, and then hopefully after that i’ll have time to finish writing chapter 3 🥴
summary: What's the best way to tell the guy you like that you have a kid? Well, lying about it and making him think you're cheating isn't the best tactic, Mila's about to find that out the hard way.
word count: 1650
warnings: swearing, absentee father (the asshole ex has evolved)
last chapter
Dreaming of a perfect man while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until the dream ended, and Mila was forced back into reality by the wails of her daughter coming from the next room, the heartbreaking sound kicked Mila’s motherly instincts into high gear, her sleep-addled brain coming into a laser sharp focus within a split second.
“Hey baby girl, what’s going on?” Mila spoke, scooping Mahri into her arms with practiced ease. Mahri’s sobs quieted almost instantaneously, her tears still tracking down her face with a vengeance. Mila tried wiping the tears away, but they were replaced just as quickly.
“It’s okay, just breathe bubs. Whatever’s making you upset, we can fix. It’s all good.” Mila whispered, bouncing Mahri around the room as it had calmed her down when she was just a baby.
“I want Daddy.” Mahri cried, and Mila could have collapsed at the weight of the words the toddler had said. There was a large hole in both of their lives in the exact shape and size of Mahri’s father. Once high school sweethearts, now sworn enemies.
As much as Mila tried to block out all thoughts and feelings related to Mahri’s dad, she couldn’t blame the kid for missing a man Mila herself found missing sometimes. Matyas was Mila’s first love, her boyfriend since 8th grade, and her best friend since kindergarten. They had grown up side by side, acknowledging they had crushes on each other in their second year of high school, and having a baby together by the second last.
Matyas and Mila, contrary to most’s predictions, had stayed together through her pregnancy, and even for a while after Mahri was born. Matyas would bring all of Mila’s schoolwork home and help her work through assessments while she was pregnant, and once Mahri was born, they alternated taking days off school to babysit when members of their family couldn’t.
But something Mila had never admitted to others was that Matyas was an asshole, only kicking into higher gear once they had both finished school. Mila had an acceptance letter for university and a part time job lined up, whilst Matyas hadn’t even bothered looking, preferring to use the excuse of ‘I have a child’ to stop him from venturing into the adult world. Despite this, cooking, cleaning, and looking after the baby was Mila’s job, obviously because she was the woman, the mother.
When Mila finally decided to end her toxic relationship with her lifelong best friend, she was villainized for it. Her parents and friends blamed her for tearing her own family apart, whilst her older siblings were more than supportive, having accidentally witnessed Matyas’ less than desirable traits. Up until about six months ago, Matyas would visit regularly, taking Mahri for her swimming classes, and playing with her at the park, occasionally taking her for the day to save Mila some money on daycare.
However, much like any tale of a teenager, Matyas was single and lonely, and a barrier to being in a relationship was the fact that he had become a father at seventeen. It wasn’t exactly a big check mark next to his name, so when he had told Mila he needed to move on, find someone special, she didn’t anticipate that meant moving on from his daughter. Six months with no contact was the longest Mahri had ever gone without seeing her father, and it was the longest Mila had ever gone without seeing him. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell Mahri, who looked at Matyas as though he hung the stars, that her father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Yet as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, Mahri’s cries for her dad became all the more heartbreaking.
“I know, baby girl. But he’s on holiday, remember? He’s having lots of fun in Limbo.” Mila lied, continuing to rock her daughter in her arms, heart feeling heavy as stone at the blatant lies she was forced to tell her daughter just because her ex-boyfriend was a coward.
“I want a new daddy.” Mahri whispered, giving up on keeping her head up, preferring to let it fall heavily onto her mum’s shoulder. Mila couldn’t help but chuckle silently, the unfiltered, mumbled by age, words that her daughter came out with sometimes were what kept Mila going. With a few more bounces, Mila was sure her daughter had fallen back into a deep slumber and moved to lay her back in the small bed, covered with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.
Mahri’s words echoed in Mila’s head, and as she reached for her phone to send yet another unanswered text to Matyas, Lando’s face appeared on her screen, an incoming FaceTime call that was as daunting as it was exciting. Mila looked over her shoulder, listening for any movement from Mahri before she answered the call, setting her phone against the toaster on the kitchen counter as she began brewing some coffee. It was nearing five in the morning, and knowing she would be usually waking up in an hour and a half meant it was going to be a caffeine fueled day.
“Hey baby boy.” Mila spoke a moment after the call had connected, looking down at the phone to see Lando’s tired face, snuggled up in bed with a small smile on his face. His smile only growing when he heard the fond nickname fall from Mila’s lips.
“Hi love. Why are you making coffee? It’s so late.” Lando mumbled, squinting to get a better look at what Mila was doing in front of him. His eyes devoured her figure, a large tshirt covering the tops of her thighs, and from what he could see, or lack thereof, she wasn’t wearing pants.
“Actually, it’s early. It’s a bit past five at the moment.” Mila replied, giggling at the way Lando seemed entranced by the view of her bare skin, smiling fondly when he snapped out of the trance at the sound of her joy.
“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” Lando almost shrieked, the volume of it causing Mila to startle forward, pressing incessantly at the buttons on her phone to lower the sound, checking over her shoulder paranoid that the gorgeous Brit had woken her barely sleeping baby.
“Oh, sorry. Do you have someone over?” Lando mumbled, looking crestfallen as he recognised the anxious look on Mila’s face. He couldn’t have been so naive to think that a woman as gorgeous as her wouldn’t have company on a Friday night - Saturday morning for her - and it had been about four days since they had spoken, he should have known.
“Uh, kind of. But no, but yes. Fuck.” Mila cursed, trying to find the right way to tell Lando that, yes, indeed she was worried he had woken someone up, but no, it wasn’t the kind of someone he was thinking of. She watched as Lando gulped, his mind spiralling with images of Mila with someone else, and although he had seen it in Austria, it hurt to know that their week together hadn’t meant as much to her as it did him.
“That’s alright. I’ll, um, let you get back to that, I guess. I’m sorry I called.” Lando muttered, moving to end the call when Mila panicked, the thought of hurting the man she was falling in love with had overridden her fears of him freaking out over the fact that she came with a lot more baggage than initially thought.
“I’ll call you later, baby boy, I promise. I want to talk to you, now just isn’t really a good time. I’m sorry.” Mila’s voice was trembling, she could see Lando’s want to get out of the conversation and never speak to her again, and it was the very last thing she wanted.
“It’s fine, you have your own life. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” Lando finished, his voice curt and clipped, but Mila could very clearly see the hurt hidden beneath the thin veil. She felt a piece of her heart break at the sight, knowing she was not only lying to him, but also causing him pain whilst she did so made her question whether it was really worth it hiding the little ball of energy in the next room.
Before Mila could reply, the call cut out, and she was left staring at the photo of herself, Victoria, and the twitch quartet on her lockscreen, something she had changed to remind herself of the amazing week she spent with some new lifelong friends.
Mila unlocked her phone, desperate to get away from the look she and Lando gave each other, preferring to admire her home screen, a photo from hers and Mahri’s most recent adventure to the park, Mahri laughing her ass off at Mila, who was very scaredly looking at the flock of geese running toward them while she took the photo.
Of course she had to give birth to a sadist, and if she was honest, she’d take that over the obvious masochistic trait she had been born with. The conversation with Lando replayed in her mind a million times, part of her wondering why she couldn’t just own the fuck up and tell him she had a kid. It wasn’t like she was telling him she wanted kids with him, or that he already had a kid, fuck if he didn’t want to, she probably wouldn’t introduce him to Mahri for years.
Yes, Mahri was her number one priority, but she couldn’t live her entire life for her child. She was nineteen, a gorgeous woman, and she deserved to be loved. Perhaps she could live her life with her child, and perhaps with someone else too.
But after today? She wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to even try.
Can we please have a smut with Lando where he’s never been that dominant before and decides to try it one evening
whiskey soaked cherries | lando norris smut
summary: Lando Norris decides one day that he'd like to try dominating his partner, and well, he's actually pretty good at it.
word count: 4541
warnings: swearing, smut; face sitting, choking, bound wrists, daddy + sir kink, hint of a breeding kink, aftercare
notes: i'm sorry this took so long, i kind of got carried away
There were always a few indicators when Lando Norris was thinking. It was a common occurrence, the man was an over-thinker till the end, yet it meant he never did anything without being sure. There were levels to his thinking moods however, and they usually gave away the true depth of his immersion in his brain.
Level one: glazed eyes, and slow reaction times. Often when you spoke to him during this time, it would take multiple seconds for him to even acknowledge that you had said something, the journey from his head to in front of you could take a while, but he was usually pretty easy to distract.
Level two: sitting completely still and not blinking. The first few times you saw him lost in thought like this, you were unnerved. He could stare at a spot on the floor for five minutes, unblinking, the only indicator of life being the steady rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic breaths falling from his lips were reassuring in this state. You had noticed once that he was so lost in thought he didn’t breathe for multiple moments. Your head was against his chest, the subtle movements you had felt for many hours before that ceased, and after a few too many seconds, he gulped down a gasping breath. This level was usually reserved for racing thoughts, strategies and tracks all consuming within his chaotic brain.
Level three: mindlessly walking, parted lips, slow, laboured breaths. You had seen Lando like this only once, walking around his house for nearly an hour, never reacting to your voice, never stopping for longer than it took for him to pivot and turn back around at a dead-end hallway. The day after you saw him like this, he had asked you to move in with him.
Level four: laid still on the floor, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed, lights on. You had only heard of this Thinking Lando, Jon and Charlotte having caught him laid in offices or empty rooms on the floor, looking like a perfectly posed corpse. You questioned him about it, and he had never had a true answer for you, something about the rigidity of the floor was grounding whilst his closed eyes let him wander as far as he wished.
But level five, you weren’t entirely sure existed. So, when you arrived home after work one day to a completely dark house, curtains and blinds drawn with every source of light turned off or obscured, you were rightfully shit scared.
“Lando? Honey, I’m home!” You called, your voice wavering slightly as it bounced off the walls of the entryway, travelling through the house in eerie echoes.
“In the living room.” Lando replied, his voice oddly composed, and you began traversing though the house, avoiding walls and furniture from memory. You were tempted to use the flashlight on your phone to get an idea of what was going on, but figured you trusted your boyfriend enough.
“Hey baby, what’s with the lights?” Your voice was laced with confusion, eyes trying to find the silhouette of the man speaking from somewhere within the room, but you were completely lost.
“I’ve been thinking.” He simply replied, goosebumps erupting on your skin as his hot breath fanned on the back of your neck. You thought his voice had travelled from the other side of the living room, but there was right behind you. You tried leaning back, desperate for some contact in the makeshift sensory deprivation room you had found yourself in, but he was gone. You jumped when you felt his hand brush against your calf, his other hand tracing up the outside of your leg to your thigh. You sighed in relief, the barest of touches from him always made you feel alight with pleasure.
“You don’t usually think like this. What’s on your mind?” You asked, voice breathy as you felt the constantly moving palms on your legs, the skirt you had worn that day a barrier between where you really wanted him, and the rough calloused hands that left goosebumps in their wake. He didn’t dare move the hem of your skirt, choosing to roam over it with lazy strokes.
“I want to try something with you. But, I need your full consent, and we need ground rules.” Lando replied, the languid strokes turning to loving touches, the brief brush of his fingertips against a scar on your knee, the same fingers caressing a path down your calf to remove your shoes.
“You know I’d trust you to do anything. Anything you want to do, I consent to 100%.” Your voice was sure, strong and assured. You felt Lando’s fingers still for a bare moment, a long intake of air telling you Lando was revelling in the romantics of your words. He often did that when you spoke about your admiration for him, honey-sweet words warming his heart like nothing else.
“No, I need you to listen to this. I want your explicit consent.” Lando continued, his words firmer, causing anxiety to swirl in your stomach for a brief moment before you realised exactly who he was. It was Lando, your chaotic boyfriend who screamed instead of laughing. A man you had been hopelessly in love with for nearly three years, who treated you like a goddess, who worshipped you for your flaws as much as your perfections.
“Okay. So tell me.” You stated. There was no question, no anxiety, no confusion in your words. Because you knew this man like the back of your hand, and you knew he knew you just as well, if not better. His fingers, which had still been brushing against your skin like a whisper suddenly gripped into the skin of your thighs, a comforting presence as he prepared to let the words tumble from his lips.
“I want to be in charge. I want to have complete control over you. For you to submit to me. Be one hundred percent mine to do whatever I want to do. I want to tie you up, have you completely at my mercy. I want to pull orgasm after orgasm from you until you’re begging me to stop, that you can’t take it anymore. And then I’m going to give you one more, because I can, and because I get to decide what happens to you. I want to drive my cock into your pussy until tears of pleasure stain those gorgeous cheeks of yours. I want to spank you until you can no longer sit down. I want to wrap my hand around that little throat of yours until you see the stars I see in your eyes every day. I want to cover your body in marks, fingerprints, hickeys, bites, whatever I can to make sure everyone knows who the fuck you belong to. And after all that, I want to cum inside this pussy, because it’s mine and no one else’s.” Lando growled, his grip on your thighs wavering as he detailed his fantasy, one that you were all too happy to bring to life.
“Yes. I consent. To all of it. I’m yours Lando, and I trust you with every fibre of my being.” You spoke clearly, wanting him to hear just how willing you were to help him fulfill the dreams he had obviously been thinking of all day.
At your reassuring words, Lando surged forward, his eyes obviously more adjusted to the dark room than yours as he found your lips with ease, finally indulging you in your own desires of finally having his lips against yours after a day spent apart. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, an involuntary gasp leaving your mouth and allowing Lando’s tongue to move slowly against yours. His hands, still with a grip on your thighs, slid them apart, which allowed him to shuffle further forward on his knees.
His lips travelled to your neck, nipping, licking and sucking on the flesh that he knew would make you whimper. Your hands, previously resting on his muscled forearms, reached for the lamp next to you, your eyes desperate to see the hungry look you knew was plastered on his face. The warm light flickered on, bathing his tanned skin in rays of honey-gold that only served to make him look more like a God among men than he already seemed to you.
“Get up. Go to the bedroom. When I get there, I want you naked and spread on the bed for me. You’re at my mercy tonight, darling, so you best not disobey or there’ll be hell to pay.” Lando growled, the intrusion of the light having snapped the remaining thread that held the usually sweet, albeit passionate and hungry, man that you had been sleeping with for so long.
Your breath caught in your throat, the dominance Lando was showing shot heat and pleasure to your core in a way you had never experienced. You stood quickly, beginning a fast walk toward your shared bedroom. Charged nerves surged through your body when you heard Lando’s steps trailing behind you, your hands moving in a frenzy to rid the clothes covering the body Lando was about to devour. When you finally got into your room, you only had a black lace thong remaining, so you threw it across the room and dove onto the bed just in time for the shirtless Brit to appear in the doorway with an impressed look on his features.
“I’m surprised, and almost disappointed. I was sure I’d get to punish you tonight, but I guess I’ll have to leave that for another day. Look at you though, all laid out and ready for me like the needy little whore you are. I bet you can’t fucking wait to be wrapped around my cock, to be filled up with my cum and feel it drip down your thighs.” Lando’s words had you keening, your body almost curling in on itself as he spoke all the words, pressed all the buttons that you didn’t know you had. You already felt like you were dripping onto the sheets beneath your body, and from the way Lando’s eyes were transfixed on your pussy, you were sure he could confirm your hypothesis.
He started towards you, kicking himself off the door frame with a smirk that would make you jump his bones at any given moment. His gaze was predatory, planning all the different ways he could tear you apart and put you back together before you would be sobbing with pleasure, overstimulated to the point of pleasing pain. Lando stopped as his shins met the side of the bed, staring down at you like prey. You whimpered, this new dominant side of your boyfriend was ruining you, and you wished for it to never end.
“Please, Lando, touch me.” You whimpered, skin alight with anticipation and wanton lust, your hairs standing on end, waiting for the prickling feeling to dissipate with the touch of his skin against yours.
“Please Daddy. And I’ll decide when you get touched.” Lando growled, the title more of a command than a suggestion, and that alone had your body curling.
“I’m sorry Daddy.” The name tasted like whiskey soaked cherries on your tongue; all sweet and spicy, innocent and sensual, an invitation and an offering. A spark behind Lando’s eyes let you know exactly how much he liked the keening way you spoke, and in barely a moment, his body was covering yours.
Your legs already opened wide for him, allowing his hips to slot in right between your thighs, your wet core lining up with his denim covered cock, already straining against the material purely from words spoken and the way the light from the lamp in the corner made your pussy glisten with its juices. His hands beside your head caged you in, holding the weight of his torso and unbridled dominance from crushing you.
Your breath came out shaky, bottom lip quivering in anticipation of feeling his lips on yours, every muscle in your body working to keep you from launching upwards and taking exactly what you wanted. Lando granted those wishes, diving down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, the frustration he usually held back while fucking you finally manifesting itself as hot, fiery passion. He needed this release, and you were the perfect vessel to release into. Every nip of his teeth, stroke of his tongue and bare touch of his fingers against your naked skin, it was too much and not enough.
“I need you to tell me if you need me to stop, we need a safeword. Use it if I go too far, or if I hurt you, or if you just need a second. Because I don’t want to lose myself in you and not realise I’m doing something wrong.” Lando spoke, breathless from the head spinning kiss, and you almost cooed, there was really nothing Lando could do to you that would hurt you, and it was sweet that he still didn’t understand that fact, but you followed along for his peace of mind.
“Orange.” You replied, almost instantly. The colour was so deeply ingrained in your relationship that you felt it both fitting and comforting, and Lando agreed as he nodded along, repeating the word in his mind and tying alarm bells and stop signs to it.
“Good. Now sit on my face.”
“I’m sorry what?” You squeaked, the request having given you whiplash, and as you stared into Lando’s eyes, no hin of remorse or asking, you realised the man was dead fucking serious.
“Did I stutter?” Lando asked again, his eyes glaring at your face as you continued to try and process the last seventeen seconds, but when your body was flipped from lying comfortably against your mattress to straddling a muscled chest, you realised you’d have to be a lot quicker to keep up with Lando tonight.
“If I have to ask you one more time, you won’t like what happens.” Lando growled, the deep tones of his domineering voice filling the room and hanging heavily in the air. You looked down to his face, his chin barely five centimetres from your pussy, and decided it was now or fucking never. So you shuffled awkwardly up the bed, apparently too slow for Lando, because he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged your body to exactly where he wanted it. Your dripping core suspended above him, his nose brushing your clit each time your thighs spasmed in your pleasure.
“Is this okay Daddy?” You whispered, your hands gripping the headboard in front of you like a lifeline. Lando’s entire body spasmed, his arms tensing around your thighs and pulling your wet cunt to his face just as a guttural moan tore from the depths of his chest, his arms shaking with the force of containing whatever beast had just been awoken inside of him.
Lando ate you out with a ferocity you had never expected a man to possess, his tongue lapped, tasted, prodded and fucked through your folds like a man starved. His nose brushed your clit every so often, jolting your hips and causing you to ride his face until a swift slap warmed your ass cheeks.
“Sorry Daddy.” You mumbled, embarrassment warming your cheeks as the pleasure built up much faster and harder than ever before. Lando slid one of his calloused digits into your cunt, his mouth moving to focus on your clit, sucking and licking at the bundle of nerves while you clenched around his fingers with a passion.
“You better not cum until I say you can.” Lando’s voice was muffled, but you understood exactly what he meant. Your whimper that followed made Lando chuckle, and you moaned as the vibrations and exhaled breath hit your core and made your entire body convulse, the pleasure was blinding, but your brain was fixated on not cumming until Lando allowed you to.
Your body was so hot with pleasure, your vision coated white to the point you didn’t know if your eyes were open or closed, and your perception of time had vanished long ago. Lando could have been eating you out for five minutes or five hours, you had no clue anymore, all you knew was that it felt so good, and it was Lando making you feel this way.
“You’re doing so good baby, fuck. If you keep making those sounds I might cum before you even touch me.” Lando’s voice brought you back to reality, as you had been so lost you didn’t realise you had been moaning, the sounds of pleasure verging on screams as you passed ‘about to cum’ and entered ‘about to pass out’.
“You make me feel so good Daddy. So fucking good, shit.” Your reply was garbled, moans and whimpers cutting off words. Lando hummed, his lips latching onto your clit and sucking exceptionally hard as his fingers curled just the right way, and you knew you were a goner.
“Cum now baby girl.” Lando mumbled, syllables lost to the flesh of your pussy, but you got the message. The relief that coated your body was like cold water on a hot summer day, drenching your screaming senses in a blanket of calm, your vision returning in flashes of colour, your ears ringing with high pitched screams, ones which you realised after a moment were your own sounds of pleasure. Lando continued his ministrations as you came down, prolonging your pleasure while you regained consciousness and became fully aware of what was happening around you.
Lando stopped, his eyes opening to see you already staring down at him in awe, and he helped you move from your position over his head to laying beside him on the bed, your skin already shining with a thin coat of sweat.
You looked over at your boyfriend, disbelief in your eyes as you stared at the wetness covering the bottom half of his face, and some of his neck. He looked smug as ever, a sliver of your young boyfriend shining through the dominant facade he had on tonight, but as soon as you started picking out the familiar pieces, his eyes turned cold again, the smirk being replaced with a tensed jaw. Your heart stopped for a moment, the one-eighty made your pussy flutter around nothing, and suddenly you were painfully aware of just how empty you felt.
“Can I touch you?” You asked, eyes wide and innocent, your bottom lip pouting as you looked up at Lando, hoping to run your hands across his chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath the taut skin, to drag your nails across his thighs, dig your fingers into his skin as he fucks you.
“Do you want to try asking that again?” Lando replied, his tone almost patronising as he looked at you, practically vibrating with desperation to touch him. It filled him with unbelievable pride, to have you so wanting just to feel him, it stroked his ego more than winning any Grand Prix ever could.
“I’m sorry sir. Can I please touch you? I want to make you feel good too.” You whimpered, the new title falling from your lips naturally, and though he hadn’t answered you, or granted you permission to touch him, he pounced.
His lips collided with yours, sharing the taste of you in the kiss and you moaned at the sensation, your nails reaching up to claw at Lando’s back. His hands where everywhere, grabbing your tits with rough hands, flicking your nipples with calloused skin, gripping your hips with intent to bruise, desperate to leave the evidence of his claim on you. His lips traced the familiar path to your jaw, up to your ear where he sunk his teeth into the lobe, letting his lips brush the shell of your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to you.
Except the sweet nothings tonight were anything but.
“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum. Watch it drip out of you and then fuck it back into you with my fingers. Gonna make you a mummy, huh? Have you walking around the paddock with my baby in you. That way everyone knows you’re mine and that I was the one that fucked you so good.” The filthy words being fed right into your ear, along with the strong grip on your hips and the rolling of Lando’s hips pressing his bulge into your core was going to make you go feral.
“Fuck me, sir. Put your baby in me please. Wanna be a mummy for you.” You purred, the words rolling off your tongue in waves that sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He leant back, sat back on his haunches as he took in the sight of your body, still trembling slightly from the powerful orgasm. He slowly undid his belt, your eyes trained on the movements his hands made, biting your lip as you got one step closer to seeing his cock, a sight you could and would never tire of. With his belt gripped tightly in his hands, Lando made a decision he would never regret.
He scooped your hands up in one of his, the other holding the belt, and positioned your hands above your head, fingers brushing against the headboard. He looped the belt through the wrought iron, fastening the leather around your hands tight enough to keep them there, but not tight enough to do any damage to you. You tugged on the restraints lightly, pouting when you found there wasn’t enough give to touch Lando while he fucked you into the mattress.
Lando gave the restraints a few investigative tugs, and when there was little movement and he was satisfied with the results, he leaned back, staring down at you yet again. You were starting to think he was getting more enjoyment out of just staring at you than anything else.
With heavy breathing and the occasional squeak of the headboard as you attempted to break free of the belt holding your wrists hostage, Lando finally began removing his sinfully tight black jeans. He pushed them down his legs with a carefree attitude, as though he had all the time in the world, whilst you were squirming around on the bed, desperate to get a look at, a hold of, a taste of what was hidden now by the thin black cotton that stretched over his painfully hard cock.
“If you keep squirming like that, I’ll tie your ankles next to your wrists and fuck you like that. Is that what you want?” Lando growled, pausing in his tantalising show of getting undressed to glare at you. You halted almost immediately, the image of Lando plowing into you while your wrists and ankles were bound together. You gulped, the vision was certainly tempting, however your pussy wouldn’t be able to take such a beating.
“No sir. I’m sorry sir.” You whimpered back, your words sent shocks of electricity through Lando’s body, and having abandoned his teasing display, he tore his underwear off and climbed onto your bed in a hurry.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping a few times and letting out a shuddering sigh. His eyes cut to yours, a blazing fury warming them from the usual cool blue green to a warm green that made your pussy flutter. He slid the tip of his cock through your wet folds, biting his lower lip to contain the moans that were ready to fall past his lips. Your fists clenched around the belt, desperate for something to hold onto.
Lando thrust his hips into yours, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. You both moaned, the sweet relief of finally wrapping your velvety walls around his cock was overwhelming. Quite quickly, Lando set a punishing pace, his hips rolling out of you before snapping back to meet yours, his pubic bone putting delectable pressure on your clit, forcing moans out of your lips at an alarming rate.
His hands held a death grip on your hips, keeping your squirming body in its place while he used your body for his own pleasure. Your moans became louder, his hips forcing his cock deeper into your cunt, but Lando didn’t like that.
“You shut the fuck up and take my cock like a good little slut, yeah?” He spoke, his right hand reaching up to wrap around your throat, his fingers squeezing around the sides. The pressure only added to your mounting pleasure, Lando squeezing intermittently when you let out a particularly loud moan, reducing you to a pile of whimpers and pleas.
His hips began stuttering, the pleasure he was feeling overwhelming the perfect pace he had set. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him further into your hungry cunt, clenching around him like you were trying to pull his entire being into you. And maybe you were, if he kept this up, you were never going to let him out of you again.
“Fuck, I’m so close.” He whimpered, the first show of your usual Lando shining through, his hips moving with a renewed vigor. You couldn’t form words, his cock brushing against your g-spot with each thrust, forcing your body higher up the bed, your arms still bound above your head. The hand around your throat squeezed harder, and for a moment all you saw were stars, the pleasure of your second orgasm ripping through your body like a tidal wave. Each atom in your body was torn apart and stitched back together with the threads of Lando’s hot seed and rough hands.
Lando pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down your thighs for a moment before he jumped from the bed, hurrying into the ensuite as quickly as he could on shaky legs. You could hear the tap running, and after a few moments, he returned with a wet rag and your favourite lotion, leaving the bottle on the side table while he cleaned the mess between your thighs, becoming entranced with the sight for another moment before he finished up, tossing the dirty cloth into the ensuite. Lando crawled up the bed to you, undoing the belt that had begun to rub your wrists raw, and with your finally free hands, you cupped your boyfriend’s cheeks, pulling him into a sweet kiss to stop the steam train of thoughts inevitably running through his head.
With soft hands and caring eyes, Lando began rubbing the lotion onto your red wrists, kissing the skin briefly, then leaving another sweet kiss on your lips.
“Was that okay?” He whispered, insecurity rearing its head yet again, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the nervous look he was giving you.
“More than okay, baby. That was amazing. 10/10 would try again.” You giggled, caressing his shoulders with slow hands, grateful to finally be feeling his skin again.
“Well, I wouldn’t be mad at that. I have some ideas.” Lando replied, a cheeky lilt to his voice as he laid down beside you, pulling the covers up to cover you both.
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