Tom Hardy By Greg Williams

Just Lando responding to being called daddy on stream 🫠🫠🫠🫠

We were all in trouble.

Suddenly, there was chaos everywhere. I could hear students screaming and yelling continuously, uselessly creating commotion. And he was at the center of the front area of the boarding school I attended at that time. He tilted his head up to the last floor, where my class was. And he knew that I was going to catch him staring at me because I was staring at him too.

That’s where I officially first met him.

Friday is a free day for my class, so like always I brought my tarots.

While reading Rhys’ cards for his week, we hear commotion from outside. We all stand up and everyone goes to check out of the window. I gather all my cards and try to tidy up the class. Me and Ophelia remove every single type of thing that would reveal the actions we were doing.

Rhys calls out at us and hisses “Guys! This is horrible. He has gotten here too. We need to find a way out. Now.”

Ophelia got pale in the face, and nervously started biting her nails. I look at them confused and say “What? Who are you talking about Rhys?”

“Leonidas, Leonidas Constantine. And his men. The Anileis Men.”

The Anileis Men. The Greek mysterious men that are considered the most ruthless men in Monaco, in fact they are serial killers that never reveal themselves to the world. Nobody knows who they are, physically. Just a few know. The dark sides of this world. Such as, mafia families, royal families and politicians. And you might be thinking, how did Rhys recognize them? First thing is that they all wear a ghost-like mask, and second clue is their way of making a scene in their own habitat, where you can clearly notice that they have come for the next victims or thie new mission. They appear out of nowhere, in a sunny day and trap you with your own feet. How's that possible? Beats me.

Now, the third thing is that Rhys personally knows him; he is my best friend, classmate and only son of the Irish mafia's king. So, that makes him a prince. He has told me that he first met Leonidas Constantine when he was five years old, at an important meeting that his father had to go to. Apparently, Ceallach (KEHL-akh, "war"), the king, had no choice but to bring his son with him because there was a war going back at home.

Actually, there's where I met Rhys too, now that I think of it. And yes. I saw Leonidas' real face there for the first time. He truly was ruthless; he had large scars on the sides of his mouth that could terrify a little girl like me that was hiding behind her dad's legs. He was so tall that everybody else looked short as hell in front of him, he could be like 1,98m (6.5ft). He was large and big like a God, the aura that surrounded him proved that that man was a fucking monster. While he was talking to my father, he averted his eyes at me. He stared at me like I was an angel that shouldn't belong in their world. And than he looked back at my father. Never met him again after that.

One thing you surely don't know is that my class and I belong to that dark side of the world. We are all children of dangerous and merciless men. Our parents, all friends and obviously in good terms, enrolled us all to this weird ass boarding school in the place where every single powerful men lives and where we were raised in, Monaco. I'm unfortunately not Monegasque. But I would have loved to. I was born in Dallas, TX. The only daughter and the only sister out of four brothers in the family of the American-Spanish mafia.

Turning back to the present time, I surprisingly look at Rhys' eyes, repeating those words in my head. Why has he come here?

I go to the window and look down at the area where the commotion is having action. There he is. He is at the center of the area, admiring the scene with his four most trusted men: Elias, Orion, Lysander and Zeno. They are all standing proudly, listenting to the screaming students all around them. They don't care about them. They have come here for someone. This is another mission to them.

All of a sudden, the tallest of them all raises his head and stares directly at me. I look at him and notice that those eyes are the same eyes that studied me when I first met him. He tilts his head at the side and nods at me. I furrow my eyebrows and he just shrugs his shoulder and raises a finger at me. For what? I'm not certain. But then, I get it. He has come here for me.

wattpad story

to read it all fllw the acc : @bakugoismybby

Louise Glück, Poems 1962-2012

Hands Like Carved Marble - LN

Summary: There's a lot of things that Lando can do to turn his girlfriend on. But sometimes he doesn't even have to try for her to be hot and bothered.

Themes (18+) Minors DNI: Smut, hand kink, slight dom!Lando, cockwarming

No part 2 requests please

Y/n genuinely believes that Lando's hands could inspire art. Hell they probably have inspired art from his fans.

But the things she thinks of when it comes to Lando's hands are sinful.

All Y/n ever wants to do is have Lando's hands on her, and if she can't have that then she's constantly reliving memories absently. Just those memories get her flustered and almost embarrassed.

A man's hands should not have that much of an effect on her honestly, she needs to get herself together.

"You alright, baby?" Lando asks innocently while y/n looks at Lando for a moment.

"Yeah, why?" Y/n mumbles as his hand comes up and he presses the back of his fingers to her forehead only for her to flinch away. "What are you doing?"

"You look a little warm." Lando smirks and suddenly the innocence is gone, he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're a dick." Y/n grumbles making him laugh.

"One camera close up of my hands and I'd bet I could get you off easily." Lando sighs very much loving the type of effect he has on her without even meaning to. "It's not my fault that you are so effected my hands."

"Please shut up." Y/n groans covering her face as it heats up more and she feels like she's just impossibly hot right now.

"Feeling sticky?" Lando hums which he's surprised doesn't actually earn him a slap. Instead she turns and walks away with him laugh and following her since he might be winding her up and poking fun but he's absolutely going to take advantage of his girlfriend being a puddle as soon as his hands touch her. Or actually sometimes that's not even needed. He doesn't really need to touch her for the effect to be present.

He rushes after her and moves quickly to get himself following her closely and hopefully not raising suspicious.

"You are something else, baby." Lando states as he locks the door to his room. "I like that you make it so easy for me."

Y/n wants to be mad but she's already too focused on the look in Lando's eye, that sort of reflective glint that they take when he's got his mind set on what he'll be doing with his hands just to make her melt.

"Not that I think you need it, but get them wet." Lando instructs gently pulling her jaw down to place his middle and ring finger, sliding them against the slick wet of her tongue.

Now usually y/n can have a bit of an attitude. As retaliation for Lando accidentally turning her on so often without even trying, she can be a bit of a tease. But she knows when to be quiet for her own benefit.

"Stay quiet." Lando instructs as he feels her manage to get his fingers soaked in her spit.

As soon as Lando pulls his fingers from her mouth, he's pressed her up against the door his free hand over her mouth since the woman can't stay quiet to save her life. Especially when his hands are on her.

His hand slides up under her dress pushing her damp panties aside, feeling her thighs quiver either side of his hand.

As soon as his fingers slide into her, the muffled moan coming from gently pressure on her g-spot and toying with her clit. He's quite literally got her in the palm of his hand.

Lando would argue to anyone else that y/n is not easy, but when it comes to being at the mercy of his hands. She's really the easiest to have literally dripping on the floor.

Y/n is almost dizzy feeling his large hand over her mouth accompanied by the overstimulation of his fingers thrusting in and out of her while his thumb presses and plays with her clit.

He keeps muffling any noises coming from her which are getting louder and more frequent as things build up. Her thighs press together over his hand, trapping him as she feels her orgasm strike. He's practically holding her up just with his own muscle as she shakes and shudders, spasming on his fingers while he tries to keep her muffled moans at bay.

Sure, more than half the unit has got to know what's happening but this isn't the first case of this happening and it certainly won't be the last. Thankfully everyone is too polite to mention it.

Y/n whines before she swallows breathing heavy against his hand as she looks at him with heavy-hooded eyes.

Slowly he removes his hand from her mouth, moving his arm to catch her when she proves unsteady on her feet.

"Alright, baby. I got you." Lando laughs as he finally gets his hand back from the tight press between her thighs. "We need a make sure clean up, baby."

"My dress..." Y/n whines making Lando look at her.

"We'll clean it up, I promise...although we may want to start keeping spare clothes for every time you decide you need to have my hands on you."

-

Sitting on a plane with Lando for a flight home after a race can actually be relaxing and actually y/n prefers commercial flights because the turbulence is less intense.

Y/n gets distract though when Lando is trying to get their movies to start at the same time so they can watch together but on separate screens.

"You are unbelievable. I haven't even done anything." Lando laughs shaking his head at her when he notices her gaze glued to his hand and her getting once again, hot and bothered.

"Shut up." Y/n whines before he smiles and reaches his hand over letting her just have hold of it to sort of play with. She's always fiddly and uneasy, but sometimes she really just finds comfort in his hand being in her grasp.

Oddly it's pretty comforting to Lando knowing he can somewhat settle his girlfriend, again with such minimal effort from him.

Y/n ends up curling up holding Lando's hand and brushing the tip of his finger over her lips, sometimes outlining them and sometimes just brushing it up and down as she focuses on the movie. Oddly Lando is the one between them who can't stop thinking about her rather than her being focused on and distracted by Lando's hand.

Although she completely falls asleep with his hand pressed tightly against her cheek.

-

Y/n smiles in a state of relaxation while they're in bed as she feels Lando run his middle fingers up and down either side of her spine. The feeling of his hands on her making her shiver a little before she removes her face from his neck.

"Are you ok?" Lando asks softly as he cups her face, rubbing over her lips with his thumb, the fleeing of her pulsing around his dick just from her attention going to his hands. "I want to say you need to learn to control yourself, but I really love this."

"Lando." Y/n whines suddenly grinding herself down on him a little while Lando grunts. His hand going down to hold her throat as she starts to ride him.

"Fuck, easy baby." Lando groans as she begins to bounce on his dick, her own hand going up over his own as he tightens his hold on her just enough that her airway is slightly restricted.

Y/n's head drops back as she feels his other hand move to hold her own, intertwining their fingers and locking their hold together as she fees her climax coming to a peak and when it hits they're both in their high together.

"That's it baby." Lando soothes gently sliding his hand down her body to help her guide herself to lie forward on him again.

Y/n twitches and spasms around him still feeling full with him as she keeps a tight hold on his hand, just settling down against him again.

"Do you just want to stay here like this for a bit?" Lando asks softly earning a nod as she turns her head to focus on his hand, releasing it just so she can trace over the prominent veins that she is so attracted to.

I’m sorry but this grill the grid was so funny cause one hand you have Lando just calm, totally just accepting his fate and asking “heh?” for every letter and in stark contrast you have Charles on the brink of a menty b forgetting every single person he’s ever met and possibly his own name.

listen boys, being soulmates are nice, but not on this one okay?

HENRY WINTER X READER

LOVING AND SELFLESS WERE NOT TWO WORDS EVER USED TO DESCRIBE A MAN SUCH AS HENRY WINTER. When you entered Julian Morrow’s office, Henry looked at you with an amused look upon his face. Richard had only just recently joined the class, now you? Julian was feeling generous.

His cold gaze followed you to your seat before returning to whatever he was writing in his notebook. With little acknowledgment, Henry only lifted his head with Julian entered; a man he idolised and admired greatly.

Henry straightened his posture, closed his notebook and adjusted his already neat tie. He merely glanced at you.

As the class went on, Henry began to read out a passage from the Iliad.

"Early in the morning the gods of Olympus sent down the breezes, to fill the sails of our ships.” Henry recites, the words imprinted in his mind.

“It symbolises the human spirit.” He says, a knowing grin fighting to grace his lips.

“I disagree.” You speak up, almost regretting doing so as all heads turn towards you; Henry’s much slower than the rest. “It symbolises the life and death. They’re being led to death.”

Henry let’s out a stiff chuckle, completely insincere.

“You’re overlooking the larger symbolic value of the passage, which is the idea of the human spirit overcoming obstacles and adversity. The breezes represent their collective effort and resilience in the face of challenges, not death.”

You furrow your brows and notice Bunny’s eyes widen a little. “You're just trying to force your own interpretation on the passage to fit your narrative. Death and being led to it is a much more nuanced and accurate theme to the passage and it's the very essence of the human condition. It represents the truth about existence.”

Henry shakes his head and his jaw tightens once more. “The passage is a reminder that our collective effort and determination can overcome even the most difficult challenges and that is the core of the human spirit.”

You tear your eyes away from Henry’s for a moment before looking back and continuing to argue. “You see, that's exactly the problem. You keep glossing over death and try to replace it with some positive rhetoric but you can't escape the truth. Death is inevitable, inherent in life and the human spirit must confront it.”

Julian looks impressed, only leading to Henry’s blood boiling more. A hatred began to stir inside of him. Luckily for you it was the end of the class and Julian knew Henry could argue over this for hours.

“I believe both inferences are correct.” Julian attempts to disperse the flame yet there was no shaking Henry’s cold glare.

Henry is the first to leave the office after you’re all dismissed, his strides strong and determined. He pulled out the pack of Lucky Strikes from his breast pocket, dig for his lighter from his coat pocket and lit a cigarette up. He took a deep inhale.

You walked after him, attempting to keep up with Henry’s pace. Despite his leg he moved briskly.“Henry.” You called and his pace slowed before he came to a complete stop, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. Henry turned around, his height towering over you. It was much easier when you were sat down; you would’ve never thought to speak up earlier if he was standing. “I didn’t mean to aggravate you before, I was just expressing my inference.” You manage to tell him.

“You didn’t aggravate me, your opinion wasn’t vital.” Henry responds simply in a selfish manner.

You couldn’t help but scoff a little. “Well neither was yours.” You say, your sudden distaste for Henry getting the better of you and making your words come out harsh.

Henry’s jaw tightened; a common occurrence that happened whenever your mouth opened you began to realise. “At least mine made sense.” Henry replies brutally before turning around once more and taking another deep drag of his cigarette.

Since then a rivalry blossomed — Henry’s mind challenging yours as you challenged Henry’s.

Despite Henry’s spewing hatred for you, Francis Abernathy, another peer, had taken a likeness to you. He invited you over to his aunt’s countryside estate, the group’s last visit before winter break yet your first visit.

It was grand and large, easy to get lost in the winding far hallways. You spent evenings in the living room, lay across the couches and indulging in the rich wine from the cellar.

Tonight was no different.

Your minds were fairly numbed and you gazed up at the ceiling as the others talked — unaware of Henry’s gaze upon you from the armchair close to the fireplace. It looked almost playful. Almost.

Bunny was bringing up a moment from the class in the previous term and you laughed, shaking your head. “Nope, that’s not how I remember it.” You say your laughter dying down. You then heard a faint stiff chuckle from Henry and all heads looked to him. He hadn’t spoken much all night.

“What?” You ask, a faint laugh in your voice. It was a nervous laugh, you never knew what Henry was going to say.

“Even when we aren’t in Julian’s office you still manage to argue with anything anyone says, it’s predictable.” Henry tells you, taking another sip of wine.

“Henry knock it off. It’s all in good fun.” Charles said with a scowl, pouring more wine into his glass.

“I’m just stating the obvious, you always have to know better than anyone. Come on, give it a rest for one night.” Henry tells you, his gaze more challenging than ever as he wore a satisfied grin at how your face dropped.

In Henry’s mind he was only being playful — to you he was nothing but cruel. The room suddenly felt warmer and you needed to leave the living area before smoke came out your fucking ears.

You left the estate and stood outside for a while, crossing your arms; a poor attempt to warm you from the cold.

A few moments later you heard footsteps wondering towards the front door; those familiar heavy footsteps.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Henry, lighting up a lucky strike. Quickly, you looked away and kept your jaw tight in a similar fashion to how Henry’s usually had his whenever you were near.

Henry glanced to you, his eyes roving you up and down for a moment as he exhaled the smoke. His eyelids were droopy and he cleared his throat before glancing away, intoxication taking hold.

“I was only trying to joke, it was a joke.” Henry informs you. You laugh falsely and look over to him.

“Jokes are funny.” You tell him and he grins, perching the cigarette between his lips as he got his Lucky Strike packet from his coat pocket. “Touché.” He murmured and held out the packet to you.

You looked at it for a moment before shaking your head and looking forward to the field. He put the packet back in his coat pocket and looked out to the field with you that was covered by darkness.

“I envy your perseverance. At first I hated it, then I began to love the challenge, the thrill of proving you wrong.” Henry tells you.

Your eyes remained forward yet you could see Henry in the corner of your eye, drawing closer. His hand reached up to caress your face, his hand large enough to cup your cheek and ear with his fingers not once calloused by work but by the scribbling away of his pen over the years.

As his fingertips grazed your cheek you grabbed his hand and shoved it away before making your way back inside.

“You intrigue me.” You hear Henry’s voice slur as you continue to walk. He wanted you to stay out there with him, yet drunken words, or any word at all from Henry didn’t matter.

You left to your room after that encounter and didn’t come down for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you saw Henry in the kitchen, up first as usual. You wished he was hungover, enough to stay in his room for the rest of the day.

His usual slick back hair was messier and his eyes were more remorseful. His top blouse button was undone and he lacked a belt. For a moment Henry looked human.

As you put the kettle on he looked you up and down once more, taking a sip of his own lukewarm coffee.

You didn’t look his way and looked out the kitchen window that faced the fields.

“Whatever I said last night I apologise.” Henry told you with a soft tone you were unfamiliar with.

“It doesn’t matter.” You mutter dismissively and keep your eyes out the window. You hear Henry sigh and he removes his glasses and rubs his temple in annoyance.

“It does, it does. What I said was true. I am intrigued by you.” Henry admits.

You scoff and shake your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.” You tell him bitterly, still believing he was fucking with you.

“It intrigues me that you challenge me. I’m not used to it.” Henry tells you. Your shoulders relax a little as the sincerity of his words dripped from his lips.

“I regret how I’ve treated you, please. May we be friends?” Henry asks, standing up from his seat. You glance over to him and he extended his hand to you as if you were creating a pact.

Slowly and uncertainly, you shook his hand and watched his face relax. It was new, something other than a clenched jaw.

Henry was a man of is word, his attitude and behaviour towards you dissipating from anger to a fondness of you. Little did you know it ran much deeper, that fondness soon submerging into desire.

When you worked together, to study or work on assignments it was like clockwork and everything fell into place. Your minds worked as one and Henry felt immensely foolish for creating your rivalry in the first place.

You returned to Francis’ aunt’s countryside estate in the spring where the fields were flooded with vibrant green and the odd clumps of flowers sat across it.

Everyone was outside, Camilla walking by the stream with Richard while Charles, Francis, Bunny and Henry played tennis. You were settled under a tree, shading from the sun and reading while seated on a picnic blanket.

You only look up from your book you were annotating upon hearing the approach of heavy breathing and look up to see Henry, his blouse unkept and untucked from his pants, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead.

“Was tennis really that intense?” You ask with a slight grin. Henry chuckles and lays down on the picnic blanket beside you. He rubs his forehead.

“Bunny can be very competitive.” Henry replies and you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

“What are you annotating?” Henry inquired, sitting up. You held the book out to him. Henry took it from your grasp and suddenly much more aware of how close Henry was seated beside you.

He flicked through the pages, his eyes concentrated as he focused on every word you wrote on each page and marvelled at it.

“Ingenious as always.” He tells you with a subtle smile, holding the book back out to you. You’re still reeling from the proximity. Why was this so overwhelming?

Henry looked back to you upon noticing your gaze and slowly lowered the book onto your lap. His eyes flickered to your lips for a moment before back to your eyes, a silent ask for permission.

When your lips part a little, he takes the indication and cups your chin with his fingers, bringing his lips to your own in a deep tender kiss. Closing your eyes, your body relaxes and you let your lips get taken by his, attempting to kiss back with as much affection as he did. His arm slipped around your waist and pulled you closer to him if it was even humanly possible.

Henry wanted every part of you.

His tongue slipped over yours and nothing felt better before the grating sound of a whistle was heard from Bunny mouth.

“Hey! We’re starting another game!” He yelled, unable to see entirely what was happening as the sun caused his eyes to squint, disorienting his vision.

Henry’s lips grazed yours now and he sighed in annoyance. He looked over to Bunny. “I’ll be over in a moment!” Henry yells.

He leaves one last desired kiss upon your lips before returning to Charles, Francis and Bunny, acting as though nothing had happened despite his lingering glances to you throughout the next game.

carlos sainz in 2013 on the red bull junior team competing on the GP3 and racing with a car with the number 4 in it.

lando norris formula 2 car having a chili symbol on it.

they are soulmate in a very "and isn't it just so pretty to think that all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?" coded way.