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pedantic-poison · 6 months

Text

Delicious | LN4

pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris

genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe

requested: yes!

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope

When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.

It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?

That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.

"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.

"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.

Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"

Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.

"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"

You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.

Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."

You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.

"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.

"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.

Just three more days.

The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.

Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.

Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.

"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.

"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."

His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.

His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.

Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.

Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.

"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.

You wanted to make him snap.

There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.

You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.

"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."

Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."

You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"

His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"

A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"

The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.

"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.

"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"

The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"

You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.

"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."

"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.

"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.

"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.

"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.

"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."

The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.

You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"

You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.

"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.

A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.

"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.

It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.

"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."

Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"

"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?

Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."

He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.

And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.

Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."

He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.

"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."

You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.

"Lan-"

"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.

Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.

After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.

A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.

But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.

When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.

Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.

"Delicious."

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lovifie · 29 days

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Back to Masterlist

Hi, this a post about callsigns characters could have because I love "cool" sounding nicknames with the most stupid backstory:

Rat: Because when you first entered the team you were so shy that when you weren't on a mission they could only see you scurrying out of a room whenever they entered like a little mouse. Plus, Gaz keeps saying you look like the rat from the Wallace and Gromit movie when eating breakfast.

Knockout/Knock: Because Soap and you were playing around, he was following you and you were running so fast you didn't notice the door was locked and you ran into it so hard you knocked yourself out.

Icarus: You made fun of Ghost for being British and about how they always burn when they tan only for you to go and get such an aggressive sunburn you were required to take medical leave for two weeks.

Pudding: After a mission you were craving it so bad that you didn't care that the only one left was way past its recommended date for eating. And after reassuring them that you would be fine you ended up throwing up so hard late at night that you woke up everybody.

Mole: Because when you are not wearing your glasses you are so blind they wonder how did you even made it into the military. Many people think you are just a spy that the task force kept as a pet.

Pierrot: Which is a sad clown, often pining for the love of Columbine, who usually breaks his heart and leaves him for Harlequin. And since that's basically a compilation of your love life that became your name, a sad clown but in Italian.

Anakin: You tried to download one of the Star Wars movies from a not-so-trustworthy website, you ended up downloading such a massive amount of viruses that you were almost the reason for the downfall of the whole military because of how aggressive the hack attack was. You now have parental control on everything that has internet access.

Navi: As in the fairy that travels with Link on the Legend of Zelda. Because every time that you would try to de-escalate an argument you would start like: "Hey, listen, we are all tired." "Hey, listen, let's all take a breath." "Hey, listen, we are all adults."

Gecko: Because while sleeping on deployment a gecko fell on your face from the ceiling, and you became so terrified of them that you barely slept for months after that.

Baby: Do you know when you accidentally call your teacher "mom"? Well, it happened to you, but you called Price "dad" and he didn't skip a beat before answering "Yes, babygirl?"

I could go on and on with these, I hope you find it at least half as funny as I do. Feel free to use them however you want and to add to the list as well, please I'll love to read them. 🩷🩷

Also, I would definitely be Mole, my blind ass would shoot and wish for the best. Which one would you guys be?? Also, Knockout and Icarus are my favourite ones and the reason I made the post hehe

Also, the rat I mentioned:

Back to Masterlist

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f0point5 · 5 days

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Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though

Part 16 of the Lando Norris x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au

A/N: Lando is doing a number on this fic can my guy just REST. Okay so this is an interesting and different direction than I had originally planned but we’re rolling, we’re vibing. I prayed for more Lando content and those prayers got answeredddd. Hope you enjoy this part 🤍🤍🤍

Tags

@s0meth1ngs @mcmuppet @bborra @elliefindlater @stan-josie @ivegotparticulartaste @tildaharoldsegna @nikfigueiredo @cixrosie @bored-brunette2 @lovewithmary @painfromblues @buckybarnex @sainzluvrr @92spcy @ninifee1802 @mineandneveryours @mv1-hoe-era @friday5thapril @sltwins @rd14 @freakfromnorth @nikolaros22 @lanando4 @nichmeddar @leptitlu @biitch-with-wifi @leireggsworld @dreamingofautopia @satellitelh @formulaal @belennasif @woozarts @cherry-piee @saintchxx4 @kave18 @holy-macncheese-balls @dreamsarebig @shiftingtomydrs @k-pevensie28 @ssararuffoni @f1-is-lovely-33 @amalialeclerc @bellewintersroe @haydenisdumbpdf @be-your-coffee-pot @tall-tanned-tattoo @lilipiggytails @booksandflowrs @basicchelsea @localwhoore @loaves4me @seraferina @abysshaven

#lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 fanfiction #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic

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ddejavvu · 5 months

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Sorry I probably wasn’t clear in my last ask about farmer!James. What I meant was that he’s just out like hauling hay or something (I’m from Iowa and I still have no idea what farmers do). And he takes his shirt off and there’s just abs and you can see his cock through his jeans. I’m literally drooling at the thought. 😁 please and thank you.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

mmf... i am sooo big on dicks that are big enough where you can just see them all the time. especially farmer!james who's been working out, he's got that adrenaline pumping, he's sweating, he's heavy breathing, and it's just a little stiff.

i'm thinking farmhand james who maybe works on your family's farm, or maybe you both work for the same little mercantile but you're inside behind the register and he's in the storeroom hauling crates of product. either way, he's outside and sweaty, you're inside and ogling him.

he's got the hots for you. he gets googly eyes whenever he sees you, and he always does this big exaggerated hand-over-the-head-whole-body-shaking wave when he tries getting your attention. you'll be working on something inside and all of a sudden he's tapping on the glass and you turn to see big sweaty beefy farmer!james with a hoe still in his hands grinning at you and breathing on the window to draw a little heart in the fog <3333 and yeah you're staring all mushy gushy at the heart but something else is mushy gushy at the sight of his tanned torso, dripping with sweat, and the bulge in his grass-stained jeans.

save a horse, ride a cowboy, and enjoy a little roll in the hay with farmer!james <33333

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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softcaesar · 1 year

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WE SHOULDN'T — NANAMI KENTO part one

context: your friend invites you over to work on your marine report. you end up staying past the curfew. he offers his bed for you to sleep… basically the good ol' bed sharing trope

pairing : nanami kento x f!reader

content and warnings: SMUT IN PART TWO, no curses, college au, nanami is a marine bio student

“I’ll be there in five?” you say, yawning.

“Just hurry up. We’ve got a lot to do.”

Five minutes later, you reach the front of Kento's dorm which buzzed with the comings and goings of its undergraduate residents. You spot a tall figure standing next to the doors waiting for you. It’s him. You notice he’s wearing a navy fleece jacket and his usual tan slacks. Kento acknowledges you with a quick nod before retreating into building, signaling you to follow him inside.

“I reviewed the analysis you wrote,” he began, monotonously, “Still needs to be fixed. Your abstract, however, is written well. Very articulate.”

“Thanks,” you replied, glancing around. It stroked you as a bit strange how he complimented you. Before, he had never stated his opinions on your work, whether negative or positive, only ever dismissing you with a nod or a ‘mhmm’. On good days, he would thank you but today, something was fishy. You’d have thought he’d be sterner and blunter throughout the duration of the assignment, if not completely uninvolved. However, it was quite the opposite.

As you turn the corner, you realise that his dorm hall was much louder and livelier than the relative stillness of your apartment building; students congregated in groups studying or working on projects, while others played Cards Against Humanity and video games in the lounge. You saw a few girls doubletake towards your direction and soon hushed voices spoke among the students.

"Look! It's Nanami!"

"Who is that with him?"

"He looks so handsome!!"

"Nanami!"

Kento led you upstairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

"You have a lot of fans." You joked. He ignored you.

“Where do you live.” His question sounded more like a statement.

“… the tool shed.” you whisper.

He pauses, raising a curious brow, “What?”

“Its called the tool shed coz apparently that’s where all the hoes live,” you answer and he immediately walks away. You jog up to him.

“I’m not a hoe,” you exhale and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“It’s quieter over there.”

“Mmm,” he says, quickly looking back at you. “Must be nice."

“Yep,” you nod, “There’ll be vacancies around November. I can inquire if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother.” He states. His room is at the end of the hallway. He unlocks the door and pushes it open. There’s a small shared space, comprised of a slightly cluttered kitchenette and a bathroom. Two large doors indicate the two bedrooms of the dorm room; one for Kento, and one presumably for a roommate.

“You live with someone?”

“He’s visiting his parents for the week. This is my room,” he says, pushing open the door to the right.

Kento's dorm room was different than you’d expected. It was a spacious layout that he adorned with evidence of his interests. A number of fish figures, some made of Lego, were displayed on a shelf against the wall, along with various textbooks, one of which was open on a kotatsu, dog tagged on the edges and plastered with colourful sticky notes.

“Which class is that for?” you pointed at the open textbook.

“Chemistry.”

He turns to the side, pushing his glasses further up his nose bridge, shielding his eyes away from you.

You keep looking around. Kento's desk was clearly a science student’s desk, inundated with marine textbooks and piles of booklets and manila folders, and all sorts of student clutter, from ball point pens to scrunched balls of paper to flashcards. The white concrete walls were relatively unadulterated, save for the framed pictures of his family and friends, and a corkboard above his desk tacked with academic pamphlets, flyers and a calendar. Everything in Kento's room looked as if it had its own designated spot. And the twin-sized bed was neatly made with a navy-blue comforter, which beckoned to you like an oasis in a desert. You noticed a small aquarium beside his dresser.

“I’ve printed a copy but if you’d prefer to edit digitally, I can email you the updated version.” Kento breaks the silence. You say you would prefer the latter, having brought your laptop and forgetting your pencil case. He took off his fleece jacket, revealing a white t-shirt underneath that hugged the frame of his body perfectly, and took off his shoes. You follow his lead and do the same, trying but failing to suppress a yawn. Kento noticed and sighed.

“Let’s finish this quickly so you can go home,” he says. It’s all the permission you need to start, and you groan in gratitude as you sink down onto the fluffy grey rug, shifting forward to put your legs under the kotatsu. His room seemed to have an effect on you. It felt homely and comfortable, reminding you of your own room back at your dorm.

“Oh, that’s right. I was looking at the report before I came and we forgot to update the formula table,” you say with another yawn. Kento took out his laptop and settled at his desk, immediately typing, while you waited for your laptop to load and made yourself comfy. It was the first chance you’ve gotten all day to sit down and relax, and it felt great. Damn that 8am workshop. Exhaustion threatened to overcome you, but you had to finish this. Soon, you and Kento sink into a comfortable silence with the occasional question, typing intensely on your keyboards, brows knit together. Other than that, no small talk existed. Two hours pass by and you stood up to stretch, walking towards Kento to see what he was up to. He stopped writing on his notepad when your shadow creeped over his paper. He turned around slowly.

“What are you doing?”

He huffs, brown eyes illuminated by his open computer screen. “Writing tomorrow’s agenda.” He looks up and draws his eyes to yours. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve completed the formula tables and edited the evaluation,” you stretch as you look at your watch which displayed a dim 21:53, “Damn, its late. Alright, I’ll get going. Text me if there’s a problem.”

Kento sighs deeply. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem. Sorry if I didn’t do too much today, I was up at 5 this morning and I've only had one coffee. I’ll swing by again this week.”

He observes your tired face. There were dark circles around your slightly red eyes. Your skin was dull and your lips were slightly cracked. Before he could contain his sympathy, he opened his mouth, “Stay the night.”

Your face stills in confusion. “Huh.”

“Stay the night.” Kento stood up from his chair, heading over to peer out the window. “It’s dangerous for you to go back alone.”

“What...? Walk me home then,” you quipped. “Plus, if I stayed the night, where would I sleep? No offense Kento, but if you want me to share a bed with you, you'd have to buy me dinner first.”

You snicker as the tall man purses his lips. “I can’t buy you dinner right now but there’s some instant ramen in the cupboard if you’re hungry.”

“Oh my God!” You groan, beginning to stuff your laptop into your bag. Your cheeks feeling tight. “I was just kidding. I’ll just run super-fast. If you’re so worried, watch me from your window and save me if something happens.”

He walks closer and sits at the edge of his bed next to your kneeled body. “(name), just stay,” he demands. The way he says your name makes your stupid heart do stupid cartwheels. “The curfew began an hour ago and you can’t go about wandering. Sleep on my bed.”

“No, Kento. It’s your bed. I can’t ta–”

“Sleep in the hallway then.”

Dude.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Look, I’m tired but not to the point where I’m about to collapse from exhaustion. Besides, I made coffee earlier. I can make it through the night. Take the bed.”

Still, it felt wrong to sleep on his bed.

He was reliable, trustworthy and knew what he wanted in life. Bonus, he was good looking. You saw the effect he had over the girls in the hallway earlier. There was no doubt he had a girlfriend. You were sure about it. You did feel slightly disheartened at the thought though as you had tried to flirt with him earlier this year but he had openly rebuked you and told you to stop (lmao). It was embarrassing to think about it. Your relationship with him was strictly in the friendzone. Friends offer their beds to their friends all the time right?

You were still unsure, really not wanting to spend the night in his room... with him. Alone. Anything could happen.

“I really can’t Kento, I’ll just go home. You probably have a girlfrie–”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, (name), just sleep,” he stood up and sat at his desk again, resuming his scribbling on his notepad.

You stand awkwardly, tugging at the strings of your hoodie. Great, you had been everywhere wearing these clothes all day. The lecture halls, the library, the café. You stared longingly at his clean bed, not a crinkle in sight. You didn't want to tarnish his spotless sheets with your gross clothes. You smelled stinky too. You silently hoped he'd have spare pajamas laying around...

“You can wear the pajamas from the bottom drawer. Return it in the morning. Don’t worry about washing it. Use the bathroom to clean up.”

It was as if he read your mind. Muttering a quick ‘thanks’, you rushed into the bathroom and washed up, changing into the clean clothes. When you return to Kento's room, the main lights were off. The nightlight beside his bed and the desk lamp were on, emitting a warm dimming effect. His eyes were looking at you. They searched your face before trailing down and up the rest of your body, a small smile on his lips. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“Good night (name).” he says lowly.

“Good night,” you say back, “Wake me up if you need to sleep.”

Silence is your response. You almost let out a moan as you sink into his soft mattress. Warmth envelopes you and you knew that you were sleeping good tonight. You stare at his ceiling, thinking back to his small compliment earlier, to the sneaky glances you had sent his peaceful figure. To the strange offer to use his spare clothes for the night. To the furtive glances at you in his pajamas.

“Hey,” you whisper, “I can’t tell if you’re being really sweet to me intentionally, or if you’re really just a gentleman.”

“Intentionally?”

“You know… if you have some sort of ulterior motive or something.”

His eyes glimmer. “It’d be pretty hard not to be sweet to you.”

The tension. It’s back. Kento's brown eyes don’t release you, but you’re a willing captive. Nothing could break this moment…

Nothing but a big, fat, horrendously-timed yawn.

He sighs again, you turn away, embarrassed.

“For fuck’s safe, (name), just sleep,” he exhales.

“You should too.”

“I have homework. Do you want some water?”

“No thanks,” you say, but he had already opened the mini fridge by his desk and tossed a cold bottle at your direction.

He returned to his seat. You smile in appreciation and take a sip. “Now, sleep. Goodnight.”

“You look pretty beat yourself. Are you sure you don’t want…”

He shakes his head. “I wish, but I have a lot to do. Besides, you’re using the bed.”

“Right.” What were you even thinking?

“Sleep well,” he says, settling down again at his desk. You re-adjust his pillows. Except, for whatever reason, your brain finds the back of Kento's head too intriguing. So, you roll onto your other side, facing the wall, shut your eyes, and let your exhaustion overtake you.

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nanaminsmoon · 9 months

Text

toxic!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: now i don't cosign toxic relationships but i had this idea and had to write it down🤭

cw: pnv, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of infidelity, yeah connie is a piece of shit, connie calls reader; 'ma', 'mami', 'baby', 'hermosa('gorgeous'), 'sabes que sólo te quiero, ma' ('you know i only want you, ma'), 'eres mi vida' ('you are my life'), 'dime que me amas, ma' ('tell me you love me, ma'), n word usage, gaslighting lowkey

wc: 2921

seeing as you had blocked him halfway through his trip, connie had low expectations when he came back from miami. however, his expectations had never lowered enough for him to be, even slightly, prepared to come back to a near enough empty apartment. especially not after you had spent the two weeks before he left, and the first few days he was gone, complaining about his absence. for the first two days he was out there, you were constantly calling and texting telling him how much you missed him and how empty your shared apartment felt without him there. then, on day three, you went silent. now stood looking at the half-empty coat rack, connie assumed that whatever drove you to that, had happened while he was still on his trip with his friends. and hopes that you had just gone to stay with a friend for a while were quashed when he realised that every single trace of you was gone; your walk-in wardrobe was empty, your vanity was empty, all your hair and skin products were no longer in the bathroom. this wasn’t some petty shit, you had left him.

”the fuck?”, he asked himself as he grabbed his car keys.

he went to every one of your friends’ addresses that he could remember, but they either wouldn’t open the door or, if they did, they claimed to have no idea where you were. he assumed that the ones who wouldn’t speak to him knew where you were. and, by now, he felt like he did too. so he went to the only other place you could be.

and, by happenstance, when he arrived at your family home you were helping carry the groceries into the house. you heard connie’s car before you saw it, giving you enough time to rush everyone inside and lock your car. unfortunately, connie caught onto what you were doing quite quickly so by the time you went to rush yourself inside, he was right outside the front door and he managed to pull you out by your arm. you’d try to move out of his grasp, but it just got tighter before he spun you around to look at him. and, once you saw how he had gotten more tanned, you actually got pissed off at just how fine he looked.

”what's up with you?”, he asked, hand still wrapped around your arm. but he would receive no response, so his free hand would move to your cheeks, squeezing them to open your mouth.

”i know this works, so use it”, he shook your face lightly, and a disgruntled huff would leave your mouth before you were removing his hand from your face.

”what d'you want, constance?”, an irritated hand moved to peel the one around your arm off, as your feet moved you a few steps back from him. but connie would just move with you.

”you know what i want. and don't call me that, you know i don’t like it”, he poked your side, and you kissed your teeth as you swatted his hand away. the severity of the situation still hadn’t clicked in connie’s mind, so he was just trying to find humour in how hard you were trying to avoid him. that obviously made you more pissed.

”you think i care about what you do, or don't, like after you was letting bitches shake ass on you in miami?”, you had seen video evidence of your man’s hoe activities, but he didn’t know that yet. so he’d just feign ignorance, and scrunch his eyebrows at you in ‘confusion’.

”the fuck are you talking about?”, he asked, grabbing at your hands when you tried to wave him off.

”don't play dumb, nigga, you know what I'm talking about.”, you’d remove your hands from connie’s to show him the screen recording of ony’s story that ymir had sent to you. but, even when presented with the video of eren holding connie up as he leaned back catching ass, he’d refuse to take accountability for his actions.

and what had started off as a somewhat civil conversation had raised in volume, mainly due to your boyfriend’s brazen attitude. your fervent discussion had caught the attention of your family members who just sat at the window watching you two argue. as well as that of a neighbour who you hadn’t even acknowledged. as pissed as you were, you weren’t having this conversation within the vicinity of prying ears. so connie would suggest continuing it in his car. and you should’ve known better than to agree because, as soon as you were both in the vehicle, he’d start it and drive off.

”connie, the fuck are you doing?”, you looked at him, nudging him slightly. but his eyes would be on the road as he brushed you off.

”i’m sick of this shit, we’re going home”, he spoke, turning up the music that was playing in an attempt to drown out your impending complaints. as if you couldn’t just turn it back down, and continue what you were saying??

”i’m not going nowhere with you, dickhead, take me back home”, you retorted, but connie just rolled his eyes.

”you’re really doin’ all this ‘cause of an ig story?”, he asked, finally looking at you.

”nigga, she was twerking on you!!”, your voice raised at him.

”y/n, i was just chillin’ and she came up to me and started dancing on me. that weren't even the full video, because if you saw the full video, you'd see that i moved her away and told her i had a girl at home. now, imagine my surprise when i come back and my home is empty”, all you could do is laugh at his excuse, because if you didn’t do that, you’d cry in frustration.

”connie, turn this car around”, the car had moved closer to the sidewalk as you approached a red light, so you’d try to open the door again. obviously it was still locked, but you were trying anything to get away from this man.

”this can’t be it, ma. you can’t be ending things because of some bitch in miami. not after all we've been through together.”, connie held your hand, his eyes locking with yours to earnestly plead with you, ”don’t let her just ruin what we have.”,

”are you okay?! you ruined what we have”, the hand connie wasn’t holding raised a pointed finger to lightly push at his temple, and exasperated air blew out of his mouth as he let your hand go and resumed driving.

”and now imma fix it”, he assured in annoyance.

once you arrived at your apartment car park, connie opened your door to allow you to, reluctantly, step out—ultimately choosing to just stand by the car with your arms crossed, mean mugging him. and, not knowing when to give up, connie pulled at one of your arms in an attempt to uncross them. and when all of it was to no avail, connie’d resort to old tactics; talking.

“y/n, you know how i feel about you. you think i'd throw that all away over some plastic booty in miami?”, the tips of your shoes would be touching when connie reached his arm around your body to grab at your ass—squeezing it for a second before pulling you into himself, “when i knew i had all this to come back to?”, he spoke lowly. a few drops of arousal dampened your underwear at the tone of his voice, his tan, and the sun-induced freckles on his face. but, no matter how long it had been, you had to pick up your dignity and move from him.

”get the fuck off me, constance”, you ordered, curtly, and connie acquiesced. though that didn’t mean he’d give up.

”c’mon, ma. let’s just go inside and talk about this”, he nodded towards the door of your apartment building. you knew what’d happen. it was the same thing that happened every time you guys argued, but you’d still begrudgingly let him walk you to your shared apartment.

and, as expected, no conversation was had. because, a gentlemanly façade would lead you through the door first and, as soon as your shoes were off, your feet were in the air as connie threw you over his shoulder. as soon as you realised your destination was your bedroom, you’d do nothing. of course he had pissed you off, but you hadn’t seen him in a week and you had missed him. none of your stuff was in the apartment, meaning you still had the upper hand. in some weird way. you would leave him…right after he took your clothes off, and greeted your aching clit with the cold metal of his tongue piercing. it became hard to believe that, not even an hour ago, your blood had been boiling—anger circulating your body with every heated beat of your heart. because that beating of your heart had migrated to the space between your legs, and its rhythm was in the process of being quelled by the plump lips holding your aching bud captive between themselves, as they sloppily sucked on it. a repetition of small moans from connie’s mouth formed hands that would incessantly pull at the tight knot forming in your stomach. those hands would be strengthened the moment the ball of metal began an uninterrupted course of small movements in between your wet folds. and the hands stroking over connie’s buzzcut would move to push his forehead backwards in an attempt to keep him dry,

”m-mess, connie, m-move”, was all you could get out in, what was meant to be, a warning. and connie would move your hand. both of his were on your thighs, pushing them apart as they began trembling. being the piece of shit he is, connie would move backwards and a cocky smile would grace his face at your loud, whiny complaints; an uproar that travelled throughout your whole body, as he heard faint sounds of cracking because of how hard your feet were curling. that’d be the encouragement directing him to continue his task. and, had he heeded your warning, his face and shirt wouldn’t have been covered in your release.

never one to be greedy, connie would have you taste yourself when your lips and tongues would meet in a sloppy kiss that you wished didn’t make you want him more than you ever had. the duration of this trip had been the longest you and connie had ever been separated, and you could feel it in the way your body reacted to his dick poking into you. the dignity you thought you had picked up from the floor had only elevated to sink six feet under the second your hands lifted to interlink at his nape, pulling him closer into you.

time and time again, your friends had warned you of the foolish antics of dominican men, but you never listened. connie was always so good to you, you never thought your heart would sit uneasily in your stomach as a consequence of his actions. but you were never mad at connie for too long. because no arguments could be made when coherence was being fucked out of your brain as your leg lay over his shoulder, and his lips were whispering promises into your ear during the intervals where they weren’t kissing the shell of it. soon, your frontal lobe would lose all functionality and you could barely remember why you were mad at a man with dick this good in the first place.

”sabes que sólo te quiero, ma”, wet words hit your nipple as his lips wrapped around it , ”eres mi vida, how could i want anyone else?”, and had you been able to form a rebuttal, it would’ve not been strong enough to overpower the moans leaving your parted lips.

”hm? i missed this pussy so bad, and when i come back you ain’t even here. imagine how that made me feel, hermosa”, connie momentarily pulled away from your nipple to stick his spit covered bottom lip out in a fake pout,

”you sorry?”, he asked, eyebrows solemnly meeting in the middle. and, still unable to get out a single word, you’d just nod. half of connie’s forgiveness would wrap around your nipple again, and the other half would work on raising the volume of your cries with the way it bullied that spongy spot inside of you.

”dime que me amas, ma”, he spoke around your nipple, and the little spanish you remembered would serve you well, and you’d tell yourself there was no way you were about to give him that after how he did you on that trip.

”ff-fuck y-you”, you stuttered out and, if you still had control over your limbs, your hand would’ve risen to point a middle finger in his face. but instead, it was connie’s hand that would move. rising to wrap around your neck—thumb and middle finger pushing lightly on either side of it, as his hips hastened. connie’s thrusts were only harsher because nothing would elate him more than you moaning out your affections for him as you came around him.

”that’s not what i asked you, hermosa.”, he tsked, eyes lidded as he looked down at you, ”now do i gotta ask you again, or you gonna use that pretty little brain of yours?”, concession was unfavourable, but he was making you feel so good that you would’ve done anything he asked of you.

”i-i lovee you, c-connie”, you whined out, nails digging into his arm. although you hadn’t nutted while saying those words to him, connie was still content at hearing them. so he’d hum back at you, before his verbal response resounded on the skin he was, once again, kissing on your chest.

”and i love you too, mami. let’s not fight anymore, hm?”, another pout would be pressed against your skin, meaning connie wouldn’t even see your aggressive nod in agreement.

all the suppressed feelings from the argument you guys had came back to surface quite quickly. connie wasn’t aggressive with you, his strokes were fast but deep and that was because he had missed you, and he just lost himself in it. and you could see it in his screwed eyebrows, and the group of sweat beads that had congregated on his forehead, keen to get a view of the fucked out woman underneath them.

”whose dick is this?”, connie spoke. and as if he knew you could barely hear anything at this point, he’d repeat himself when he got no reply, ”i asked you, whose dick this was”,

”m-mine. it’s m-mine”, you stammered out, hands hitting at his bare skin hovering above yours.

”so stop fucking playing wit’ me.” , his heart might’ve wanted you to hear those words, but his teeth fought to keep them in his mouth; those words were low, and barely enunciated. but their gravity was felt in the part of his dick pushing into your cervix. as well as in his following words,

”tell me you’ll stop”, and, feeling you start to get tighter around him, connie’s movements would slow when he knew you needed them at their fastest. the eyes that had been risking getting stuck in the back of their sockets would focus on his face again. it was blank; he needed that affirmation, and you’d gladly give it to him.

”finefinefine, i’ll stop. just lemme cum, connie, please lemme cum, p-please”, connie knew damn well that you’d probably have this conversation again, but hearing you beg under him while promising to trust him made his dick move inside you again.

”you’re always so good f’r me, baby”, he caressed your face, smiling warmly at you, ”you know you ain’t gotta ask, ma. this your dick, nut on it if you wanna”, so you would. it’d take two more thrusts for your walls to contract around his throbbing length.

”con-nie, i’m cummm—shittt”, your words could barely connect, but you just needed him to know how good he was making you feel. even though words weren’t needed when he could feel you around his dick, making it harder for him to maintain composure and keep moving inside you. and connie would try to keep it together, but he’d been thinking about nutting in you again for days now, so he stopped fighting the stuttering of his hips, and let them just do whatever when they decided to stop. their stagnancy would be followed by a warmth spreading inside you, and leaking to drip down you onto the bed sheets underneath you. and those sheets would be uncomfortably wet by the time you two finished. so you’d end up changing them together before he drove you to your family home to collect all your stuff and carry on as you always were.

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #connie springer #connie smut #aot connie #i hate niggas mane

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