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oikarma · 5 days ago

Text

sweetener

pairing: franco colapinto x reader

summary: time to start promoting your documentary about lewis hamilton. the best place for publicity is in the pit lane, but there seems to be another hamilton fan on the grid-nevermind, there might be new contender for franco colapinto's heart.

a/n: google translate. i don't speak spanish sorry 😭 here's a happy, cutesy one in celebration of franco becoming alpine's reserve driver!

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liked by f1, lewishamilton, and 3,530,927 others

yourinstagram I'm sure you all know of his triumphs, but there are many struggles that have been forgotten.

tagged: lewishamilton SEVEN UP: THE LEWIS HAMILTON STORY out in theatres April 4th, 2025.

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user1 who put her in charge 💀 hasn't she butchered enough projects

user2 hope the FIA didn't have a say on this one

user3 pfft watch half the documentary end up being an argument on why lewis should've won abu dhabi 21

user4 mother hard at work!!

user5 does this mean she's doing a press tour?? what's the equivalent of a press tour for a documentary

user6 on her live a while back y/n said she would be doing some promotional interviews with lewis and there was a rumor that she'll be showing up at the first few races of the year

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liked by lewishamilton, francolapinto and 5,053,782 others

yourinstagram Now and then. We interviewed Lewis after his first day at Maranello and after his last race with Mercedes.

tagged: lewishamilton

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user1 you can hate her but she got the GOAT scheduling interviews with her

user2 to be an oscar-nominated director and to work with lewis hamilton 🙏 life goals user3 It's literally just PR. It's his film of course he has to show up to talk to her about it user2 @/user3 hello?? he doesn't HAVE to show up or do anything most documentaries r released after the subject(s) pass/r in no condition to comment and neither lewis nor the film need pr it's all a matter of politeness user3 someone's defensive...

user4 he looks so much happier! shame he wasn't wearing red though it's almost like he's still repping mercedes

user5 love that for him but pls whoever picked that outfit needs to be talked to

francolapinto GOAT 🐐

user6 franco being a fan as always user7 SKDFJDS he's so unserious i love him

scuderiaferrari it was so cool seeing you on your factory tour 🤩

yourinstagram anytime, admin!

user8 well didn't merc fumble rather badly on that one

user9 😔 end of an era...but it was great while it lasted

user9 ngl i like the grey. it's still kinda jarring seeing him in BRIGHT RED.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by francolapinto, charles_lerclerc, and 340,771 others

scuderiaferrari Best director in our hearts! Academy-nominated director Y/N L/N graced our paddock today for the Australian GP ❤️

tagged: yourinstagram

user1 franco in the likes...ariana what are you doing here

user2 he better take the alpine seat permanently i NEED to see him on the grid

user3 admin have you watched we live in time yet?

scuderiaferrari have watched all of miss y/ns films at least twice. that one destroyed me. ☹️ user4 admin getting a little relatable here

user5 uh oh someone's salty about her losing to jacques audiard

user6 let's be fr though he totally deserved it more user7 but did you see how he snubbed cynthia during her nomination? rude asf at least y/n has class

charles_leclerc Consider yourself booked for my documentary

yourinstagram let's not get ahead of ourselves charles. alexandra on the other hand... alexandrasaintmleux what an honor 🥰 user8 LMFAO

user9 slayed the house (garage?) down

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by roscoelovescoco, francolapinto and 410,932 others

yourinstagram thanks for having me this weekend 😚 now say hi to the real star of the show

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roscoelovescoco come back soon please

yourinstagram anything for you <3 user1 SHE MET ROSCOE IVE NEVER BEEN MORE JEALOUS OF ANYONE IN MY WHOlE LiFE

user2 jaw dropped

user3 the color is so cute!!

francolapinto blue looks good on you. wanna match sometime?

user4 franco trying to convince alpine to invite her LOL user5 he shot his shot and it fell flat to the ground yourinstagram sorry, i prefer red

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by alpinef1team and 673,410 others

francolapinto back on the grind 💪

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user1 did he-

user2 i think- user3 what- user4 can someone finish their sentence please 😭 im so lost

user5 franco you could use me until my body and mind broke but all i'd ask is if tomorrow works for you

user6 my heart just stopped

user7 am i overreacting or is this a response to y/n's comment about liking red better

user8 THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT user9 right but mb he just wore a diff color shirt user10 this clashes w all his feed though he's either in light blue/white/navy

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

francolapinto has added to their stories

[ translation: i like my coffee bitter, but she's pretty sweet ]

replies

oscarpiastri you finally tried the swiss roll?

francolapinto it was so good 😋 i had two!

yourinstagram you literally called me sour and bitter

francolapinto all my teasing's in the name of love yourinstagram right.

user1 who's she franco??

user2 the only time i ever use google is to figure out wtf franco's writing on his stories

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies

lewishamilton how was he?

yourinstagram decent. did not yap as much about you as i expected lewishamilton i guess meeting me reduces a bit of the obsession yourinstagram it's okay lew, he DID ask me how you were doing, what you thought of him, and what it was like working w you lewishamilton maybe he just got sidetracked

francolapinto mi preciosa

yourinstagram okay. francolapinto you like me a bit more, no? yourinstagram you tell me franco

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 790,148 others

yourinstagram きれい

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user1 no idea what she said but pop off queen!

user2 her feed...😭 it's so pretty

user3 y/n will we see you @ suzuka??

yourinstagram 🤫 user4 NO WAY I THOUGHT THEY'D WRAPPED PROMO BUT YAYAYAY

francolapinto no hablo japonesa pero te amo en español (i don't speak japanese but i love you in spanish)

user5 am i. seeing things? user6 franco we talked about this you can't be thirsting over random girls it'll make you look like a simp francolapinto @/user6 ¿simp? cualquiera estaría por ella (simp? anyone would be for her) user7 oh the way i will mourn when the pr team gets ahold of him user8 and the way she ignored him 💀

user9 my fatal flaw is thinking that if i had a camera i would be taking pics like these too

alexandrasaintmleux heavenly

yourinstagram muah muah user10 @/charles_leclerc your girlfriend is in love w someone else

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francolapinto added to their stories

viewed by f1gossipofficial and 87,029 others

replies

user1 oh my GOD they're DATING??

user2 y/n folded

user3 franco how'd you bag a baddie like her

user4 one chance mi amor

yourinstagram who took the photo?

francolapinto may have asked a very nice vendor to take pictures of my gf on our first date 🥺 yourinstagram didn't know you had enough rizz to get a girlfriend francolapinto yeah me neither i think she likes me because i get awkward around her

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton and 928,137 others

yourinstagram he likes it when i'm mean

view all 60,438 comments

user1 she hard launched him on her main?? omg y/n you are a changed woman

user2 his biceps...

francolapinto i like being degraded sue me

user3 HELLO? user4 franco never let them change you yourinstagram weak.

user5 he's such a puppy for her oml

user6 goals fr

lewishamilton pay up.

yourinstagram we didn't even make a bet?? charles_leclerc @/yourinstagram if you'd just waited ONE day yourinstagram @/charles_leclerc you bet on my relationship?? francolapinto i appreciate your confidence in me lewis yourinstagram @/francolapinto idiot. you don't even know what the specifics of the bet were

#franco colapinto x reader #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 #franco colapinto #f1 x you #f1 smau #smau #oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩

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ellastone-olsen · 11 months ago

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Could I request something Rhaenyra x Stark!reader smut with them being feral codependent soulmates? I love that trope. They would totally be unhinged and in love wives together plus the fire and ice parallels 😭 Like after Laenor “dies”, Rhaenyra’s goes looking for a new spouse and runs into Stark!reader and it’s just love/obsession at first sight?

MY QUEEN IS CRUEL

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader

Summary: your family comes from Winterfell to the capital at the invitation of the Targaryen family. Princess Rhaenyra announced that she would choose a new spouse. Your brother was a contender from the House of Stark, but it seems to the princess that another contender from the rulers of the north is more interesting.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, soulmates dynamic, mentions of blood and alcohol, innocent reader, virginity loss, oral, fingering

Word count: 3.1k

AN: omg my first House of the Dragon fic, I hope I translated some titles and names correctly. Thanks for the request, it took me so long to write this, but I love Rhaenyra so much 💕

Rhaenys's bitter, heartbreaking cry is heard in the silence of the room. The woman looks at the burnt body that just a few minutes ago was her son. “Who allowed this?! Why wasn’t anyone around?!” Corlys embraces his wife in rage and grief. That day, sadness became the main companion of the grieving parents.

No one knows that on the shore, the one who is now considered dead is running towards the boat. Laenor Velaryon sails away to disappear forever from this life in which he was imprisoned. Rhaenyra gave him a chance at happiness and Laenor will not forget this.

Rhaenyra Targaryen is officially recognized as a widow. It is expected that rumors about the death of the princess's husband began to spread like a plague, from servants to other servants, and those to their families, from there the plague was transmitted to all seven kingdoms. Some believed in the official story, others, like the grieving mother, blamed the Targaryen family for everything, they said that the princess ordered the murder, that she was tired of her husband. But for Rhaenyra it was enough to know that this was absurdity and slander.

“So what are you going to do next?” Daemon approached unnoticed. Rhaenyra didn’t look at him, her gaze was directed far out to sea. "I think I'm looking for a new spouse." Damon thought the hint was crystal clear. He thought that she still wanted him, wanted to finish what they started that night all those years ago. “Rhaenyra...” He was interrupted, “No uncle, leave it alone. Kiss me and let me go. If you do not...” A ringing silence hung between them. The phrase did not need to be continued; he already understood it.

King's Landing was filled with lords, princes and princesses from all over Westeros. The royal family invited all the noble houses, announcing that the heir to the iron throne would thus choose a new life partner.

“I don’t understand why you took me with you.” Your carriage was approaching to the King's Landing. Your parents were, as always, calm and cool, as befits the Starks, the rulers of the north. Your younger brother looked around the windows excitedly, clearly excited about his first trip outside of Winterfell. “Your mother and I think that you also need to see the capital.” Your father, as always, spoke directly and to the point. You smiled bitterly. “Only we’re here to try to marry Rob to this pompous princess.” You didn’t hide your bias towards this whole thing, which was more like an auction. “Y/N just try to say something like that about the princess in public and you will disgrace the entire House of Starks.”

For the rest of the trip you rode in silence, only occasionally fiddling with the hilt of the sword hidden in a sheath under your heavy black coat. Perhaps you had a little curiosity about the princess. What does the one who will take the iron throne look like, against whom there was so much outrage just because she was a woman. You thought that she must be strong and stubborn just like her ancestors. The same as the previously lived Visenya about whom you once read.

The carriage stopped.

“Do I have to wear this? How will I take my sword with me?” Your mother stood in the chambers that had kindly been allocated to you and watched as a maid helped you lace up a black dress with antique long sleeves. “You don't need the sword today, honey. This is a royal ball and you are not a knight in service." You looked in the mirror, and even though dresses weren't something you wore often, it didn't look bad at all for your taste. Still, the velvet in tandem with the large fur coat that you took from Winterfell looked harmonious.

“But what if something goes wrong and I’m left without a weapon?” You insisted. After so many years of training, the sword became an extension of you, and going out without it was akin to death. "The Royal Guard will protect us all." Your mother tried to be gentle and calm your worries. The woman came up behind you and put her hands on your shoulders. ��For just one evening, be a princess and not a rude warrior. For me." You covered her hands. "Okay, just for you."

All arriving guests entered the huge hall in turn, after which they were seated at long tables, which were bursting with an abundance of dishes kindly offered by the royal family. “The Starks of Winterfell,” the man shouted and your family entered the hall. You followed your parents straight to the table in the center, at which the Targaryen couple was already sitting with the king and that famous Princess Rhaenyra at their head. Finally, you were close enough that you could see a woman with dazzling white hair and sharp purple eyes. Your breath caught somewhere in the depths and you couldn’t look away. It seems at this moment the ice and skepticism inside you broke, burst into a thousand pieces. You had to lower your head according to the rules of etiquette, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from contemplation. And when she finally looked at you, when your eyes met, you realized that you had problems. “Your Grace, this is our son Rob and eldest daughter Y/N.” Your father, as the head of the family, introduced his children and added, “I hope that Rob can claim the place of your husband Princess Rhaenyra.”

At these words, you remembered why you were here and a little jealousy pricked somewhere in your chest. You were almost jealous of your brother. But who are you to be jealous, because you just met. This is all becoming too strange, but so tempting. You sat down and the evening began.

Wines of different varieties continually filled the glasses of rich gentlemen, everyone laughed, joked and discussed who the heiress would choose as her husband. The Lannisters were sitting next to you and you could hear snatches of greasy jokes about how their eldest son could have Rhaenyra in all poses. Anger boiled inside you, how could this bastard say such things about this woman. “And they also say that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The loud laughter of the Lannisters infuriated you even more. “Then your house is no better for having sworn allegiance to a whore.” You thought you said it quietly, but they apparently heard you.

“I didn’t hear what the pup from Winterfell was barking just now?” Everyone who was at your table fell silent and the whole room also paid attention to this. “I said what I meant.” The man was already deeply drunk and clearly in the mood for a fight. He stood up and you stood up next, you were the same height. “If you are so brave, then say out loud what you think of the princess.” Rhaenyra's purple eyes watched your quarrel carefully, it would be a lie to say that she did not look at you all evening, knowing that all the men in this room would be denied. She definitely liked your spark and wanted to see what happened next.

“I said that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The man said the last word slowly, syllable by syllable, everyone present was in suspense. King Viserys took out his favorite blade. "I'll cut out your filthy tongue." As soon as he finished the phrase, a knife, prudently hidden under a fur coat, appeared in your hand and pinned Lannister’s palm to the table. He tried to get it. “There are a lot of vital veins in this part of the arm; if you try to pull it out, you will bleed to death.” The white cloaks immediately drew their swords and stood ready. Rhaenyra's entire being was hypnotized in delight by your actions and words, at that moment she chose her spouse. The entire Lannister family stood up and was ready to tear you apart.

"Get them out." For the first time that evening, Rhaenyra's voice broke the silence of the event. The bastard's face lit up with a smile. “My princess, thank you...” But before he could finish speaking, the guards twisted his hands, pulling the knife out of his palm, causing the man to let out a bitter scream. The entire Lannister family was disgracedly eliminated from the feast; there was silence for several more minutes, only whispers were heard from different sides.

"What are you doing." Your father pulled you by the arm, urging you to sit down, and glared at you with eyes full of rage. “Your mother asked you not to take weapons with you.” “She asked not to take the sword, dear father.” Rhaenyra stood up. “Today, to our great regret, unpleasant and unacceptable events occurred for the royal court.” She paused, her gaze returning to you and a smile gracing her lips. “But let’s not let these events overshadow our holiday, let’s raise our glasses and have a feast.” The crowd cheered and raised their glasses as they praised Princess Rhaenyra's wisdom and resilience. The celebration continued until late at night, you drank several glasses of wine after the incident and by the end you were decently drunk.

All evening you kept looking at Rhaenyra, your head was filled with thoughts about how beautiful and wise she is, about how wrong you were, how you regret that you didn’t want to go to the capital. But then these euphoric thoughts were darkened by the fact of her imminent marriage to one of the men of these noble houses and perhaps even to your brother.

You headed to your chambers, every now and then passing by local servants. Your legs dragged you heavily, your mind only thought about taking a warm bath and washing away inappropriate thoughts about the heiress. The heavy door opened with a slight creak, letting you into the semi-darkness of the room. You thought that you asked the servants to extinguish all the candles, but for some reason they were burning. Your gaze caught on an unfamiliar figure standing with his back to you, and the knife that had recently been in the Lannister’s bastard was again in your hand, waiting to defend yourself from intruders.

"You're a little warrior aren't you?" A velvety voice broke the silence and the stranger turned to face you. You immediately lowered the knife. “Your Grace, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You immediately bent your knee in front of her. You were absolutely at a loss and the whole situation was a little confusing, why was the princess, the heir to the throne, waiting for you in your chambers in the middle of the night? “No need for formalities, please stand up.”

She walked through your chambers looking at some of your personal belongings until she found the sword. “Oh, this is your main weapon, as I understand it, you don’t to swing a knife every time of course ...” she bent down to take a closer look at the sparkling silver blade. “Such a beautiful thing, to match the owner.” Her compliment made your already red cheeks flush. “Did you want to talk about what happened, Your Grace?” you desperately wanted to change the topic.

“Did your mother ever tell you the legend of soulmates?” You were dumbfounded by her question. “Your Grace, I don’t quite understand...” She continued to walk around the room. “Don’t they really tell such stories in the north?” Her tone sounded fakely upset. “They say I know one.” “Then tell me too.”

You didn’t understand anything, Rhaenyra Targaryen came to you at night to listen to fairy tales for children? Perhaps something was put in the wine and now you were hallucinating, but it seemed like everything looked real. The woman lit the fireplace and, unbecoming for a future queen, sat down on the soft fur in front of the fire. She looked up at you, inviting you to sit next to her, you obeyed. The crackling of logs, the heat of the fire and the soft floral perfume of Rhaenyra lulled to sleep.

“My mother... told me when I was a child that there was a belief...” you cleaned the throat. “That every person has their own soulmate, but not everyone is able to find it, it’s like a person who was created by the seven gods just for you.” Rhaenyra began to unravel her tight braid; her head began to hurt unpleasantly from her hairstyle. You watched out of the corner of your eye as her snow-white strands gradually fell onto her shoulders. “And how do you understand who exactly your person is?” She encouraged you to continue. “I don’t remember exactly, but they said that when you see him or her, you will immediately understand, just the first glance or the first meeting and…boom.” "Boom?" She asked again, not quite understanding your strange wording. "Yes." You were looking at the burning logs when Rhaenyra's hand covered yours. She has already unbraided her hair. “Do you want to brush them?” Something strange was clearly happening. But who are you to refuse, you nodded and took the wooden comb brought from Winterfell from the nightstand. Hands carefully took strands of silver hair and combed them, as if they would break from the wrong movement.

“Do you believe in this legends?” You thought for a second. “I’m not sure, or rather I didn’t believe it before, but now these fairy tales don’t seem so stupid to me.” You put comb down, combing all hair perfectly. “I don’t understand why these questions are asked, Your Grace.” Your head was a complete mess due to the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline caused by the woman next to you. “Please call me Rhaenyra.” She turned to face you. “You understand everything, little warrior, don’t lie to me.” The woman moved closer and closer until she placed one hand on your shoulder. "Your Grace...Rhaenira." She leaned in so close that her lips were almost touching yours. "I want you." You looked into bright purple eyes, which shone yellow in the firelight. “Tell me the wolf of Winterfell, do you want me?” Her perfume smelled so delicious, her soft skin, white as her hair, that the dress did not hide, begged to be touched, “I...yes please, I want you.”

Rhaenyra's lips touched yours, sharing the sweetness of the recently drunk wine. One of the woman's hands grabbed the collar of your velvet dress and began to pull it down your shoulders to free your soft breasts. She carefully laid you on your back, on the soft fur, holding the back of your head. Her lips moved to her neck, then to her shoulder and then wrapped around her pink nipple. The action caused you to place your hand on her head, stroking her silver hair. The princess's hands lifted the skirt of the dress to the waist and stroked the skin of your soft thighs. "Cute little thing." She giggled and touched your lips again. The kiss was untidy, but full of tenderness and desire. Rhaenyra relieved you of underwear, her fingers slipped inside without a barrier, you were completely wet, just for her, but then she remembered. “Is this your first time?” She stopped any action, waiting in horror for an answer. "Yes, my grace." Rhaenyra buried her nose in the crook of your neck and began to kiss you, whispering, “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.” Your hand rested on hers that was still between your legs. “Please continue, I want this more than anything.”

And she continued, gently pounding and curling her fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside that made you see stars and whine like a pup. "Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, oh please my grace." Your hand touched the sensitive bud for additional stimulation. “Oh fuck, fuck...I'm gonna...” “Cum for me, cum for your queen.” Her movements became faster and clearer until you came, squeezing around her long fingers, biting your hand so as not to scream from the new sensations that she was giving you. She pulled out and showed you her hand, which sparkled in the firelight from your release, and then licked every last drop, causing your eyes to darken.

When you came to your senses, you stood up, only to strip completely and push Rhaenyra towards the bed, urging you to sit on it. "Please let me return the favor." You knelt in front of her, lifting the skirt of her dress up to expose her stockinged legs. Your lips kissed every centimeter of skin, no one worshiped it like you. When your mouth reaches her pussy, you notice that her arousal has left a wet mark on the bed linen. The tongue draws a line along the entire length, collecting her arousal, and the woman moans, lowering her hand to stroke your cheek. “My little savior, tell me, would you have killed him if I had not intervened?” You kiss her palm. "Yes my grace." And you hug her sensitive bud with your lips, simultaneously pushing three fingers inside, immediately picking up a fast pace. "Oh Gods!" She moans and screams without being embarrassed to be heard, the way you stretch her drives the woman crazy. “Fuck, that’s it!” and “Yeah right there, that’s my good girl.” You fuck her, trying to please your queen as best as possible and feel how she clench around your fingers. “Fuck fuck Y/N!” She cums, for a long time, and you fuck her through orgasm until she whines from overstimulation, asking her to stop.

You move onto the bed and lie on top of her again, kissing her. “I didn’t believe in soulmates until I saw you.” She hugs you, covering your naked body. You lie there, again inhaling the aroma of her perfume and not believing in the reality of what happened. “I would like to believe that it’s true,” she replies and you think.

“Have you already chosen someone to be your spouse?” You say this quietly, in a whisper. It was at this moment that you remembered why your family came here in the first place and how you may have acted meanly towards your brother. She laughs and you don't understand. "Yes, I chose you."

You lift your head sharply, looking into those purple eyes to see if she's deceiving you. “But...what if people are against it, what will you do?”

She thought about it, she knew that there would be dissatisfied people. “Then I will personally give Syrax the command to burn to the ground anyone who questions my choice.”

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra is my queen #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd rhaenyra

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cozage · 8 months ago

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Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️

A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k

Years Passed

Ace

After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.

That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions.

While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.

He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.

You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three.

He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.

Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living

Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen.

Law

It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.

It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on.

He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better.

Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart.

Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit.

You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do.

Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first.

Zoro

Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can’t escape.

He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you.

Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).

He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars.

However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you.

Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace #ace x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #✧˚ace✧˚#✧˚law✧˚#✧˚zoro✧˚

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motorsportbarbie13 · 4 months ago

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Forbidden - Part 3

In which you finally get what you've been begging for.

Warnings: smut. a lot of smut. nearly 4k words of smut. Minors DNI PLEEEEASE. swearing. unprotected sexy time (wrap it up loves). oral (fem receiving). p in v sex. did i mention smut?

Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Words: 3.8k

Part 1 Part 2 Master List

BELGIUM

“Get in here.” Max growls, yanking you into his drivers room before anyone has a chance to do a double take and realize who you are. The moment the door snicks closed, he shoves you against it, pinning you there with his hips. He doesn’t give you a moment to even take a breath before his lips are on yours, tongue slipping into your mouth in a searing kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, making you breathless from the heat of his touch. Ever since that night in Austria, every spare moment the two of you get is spent hidden away making out like a couple of teenagers. You haven’t had this much fun in years.

“Ow, Max.” You whine against his lips when his fingertips dig what you’re sure will be bruises in the morning into the flesh at your hips. Nipping at his bottom lip, you try to warn him away from marking you like that. You can’t imagine what your brother would do if he happened to see finger shaped bruises anywhere on you, especially if they were from Max.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, dropping his head to the crook of your neck where he licks at the heated skin there. “I’ve been forced to watch you galavant around the paddock all fucking day with Kika and Alex in that fucking dress and haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it.”

Your hands wind up his body before locking together behind his neck, pulling him even closer to you. “Oh, so you like the new dress?”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t worn the daisy yellow gingham dress with him in mind because you totally had. You had picked it up in London earlier in the week while on a shopping trip with a few of the girls and had known instantly that it would torture Max. It was dangerously short with a ruffled hem and a bow that sat right in the valley of your chest, calling attention to the tanned skin there. You had certainly gotten more than a few lingering looks from several of the drivers and engineers that morning but the person you had been trying to tease had fallen straight into the trap.

“I don’t know if I should tell you to change into sweatpants and a giant sweatshirt or kiss you in front of everyone just to get them all to quit looking at you.” He grumbles as you shiver from the scratch of his scruff brushing against your neck.

You roll your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do either. The two of you had come to an agreement somewhere between Austria and Hungary that whatever was happening between here was something that should be kept secret. Not because either of you were ashamed of the other. It was quite the opposite. If Max had his way, he would have you draped in Red Bull navy and red all weekend but there was a little issue you both had to contend with: Charles.

You knew your brother was becoming suspicious, which worried you. Every time you slipped out of the garage during race weekends, or would go hours without returning his calls or texts while you were in Monaco during the week, he pestered you for an explanation. Most of the time you thought quick enough, using work as an excuse but you knew that wasn’t going to last forever. You knew that eventually, if this thing turned into something…more, that you’d have to spill the beans, which would probably result in World War Three between him and Max. But for now? Now you were just enjoying the thrill of sneaking around with Max Verstappen.

You two still hadn’t slept together, much to your chagrin. You understood why Max had put the breaks on that aspect of your relationship but you were growing needier by the day. Most of the time you were both on the same page, wanting to make sure that this thing between you was real. In between the make out sessions that you were able to steal away for, you had movie marathons and hours long talks covering just about everything and anything the pair of you could think of. He insisted that he wasn’t with you for a quick fuck and you believed him but a girl had needs and it was getting frustrating.

“What do I have to do to convince you to fuck me on that massage table right now?” You whisper in his ear as his tongue laps against your collar bone, a shimmer of excitement shooting down your spine at your boldness. Your drag your hands through his hair, tugging at the blond locks hard enough that his mouth is forced away from you, icy blue eyes hitting you with a stare so intense your knees nearly buckle.

Max shakes his head, a chuckle starting deep in his chest. With him at a bit of a distance now, you finally are able to get a good look at him for the first time since he pulled you into the room like a rag doll. Qualifying was starting in less than 30 minutes so he’s already in his fireproofs, the tight white fabric clinging almost obscenely to his muscled chest. His racing suit is peeled down to his hips, the sleeves of the navy blue suit dangling down close to his feet. You’d never seen him look hotter.

“If you think I’m going to fuck you for the first time in this tiny room where you can’t be as loud as you want when I make you come, you are insane, schatje.”

If there was one thing you were discovering about Max, it was that he had the dirtiest mouth on him and that mouth had ruined several pairs of your skimpiest panties already, and you had barely gotten past second base with him.

You don’t get a chance to respond though, your retort interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

“Max! Horner wants to see you before quali, he’s kind of on the war path.” GP calls from the other side and you’ve never been more thankful that Max’s race engineer is polite enough not to enter a room without knocking.

Max rests his forehead against yours, frustrated at the interruption. “Be there in 5.” He groans, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Wait here for ten minutes, then you should be good to leave. Turn left out the door and you can sneak out the back.”

You nod, suddenly not really liking the whole clandestine sneaking around you two have been doing. Sure it was fun but a little part of you wanted to be able to go out into the paddock with him. “Good luck then. But not enough luck to out qualify Charlie.” You say with a wink, pushing aside the annoyance of what you had to hide for now. You didn’t want to think too deep into things, the vulnerability that would be required for going public with Max not something you were sure you could handle.

With one last kiss on the forehead, Max shuffles around you, tossing a wink at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him with a sharp click.

************************************************

“I nearly ended up in the god damned wall three times this afternoon, you had me so distracted.” Max murmurs later that night.

It had taken some maneuvering getting away from Charlie and Carlos that evening with the way they kept insisting that you needed to stay for just one more drink or one more story. It was almost like they suspected that you wanted to be somewhere else instead of out at dinner with them. Which was absolutely true but they couldn’t know that. Finally, you had to fake a migraine to get out of the fifth round of drinks so you were able to escape back to your hotel room. But you hadn’t gone back to your hotel room, of course. You had come straight to Max’s.

“Maybe I should stay away from you on race weekends then.” You say cheekily, earning a sharp smack on your ass from Max as he hauls you towards his bed.

“Absolutely not, schatje.” Max’s gaze goes feral at the suggestion. “You have no idea what you do to me. I’d be worse off if you were gone.”

And it was the truth, which scared the shit out of Max. He was desperately trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you, trying to figure out how keep his feelings for you reigned in while simultaneously needing to spend every spare moment he has with you. He’s never been one for romantic attachments, much preferring one night stands or time alone. But that was before you came waltzing back into his life. He was just trying to figure out how to tell you he was falling head over heels for you without scaring you off or causing your brother to go into a murderous rage.

He was still working on both.

You preen under his affection as he tugs you towards the bed. You feel that need deep in your belly once again, hoping that tonight will finally be the night Max doesn’t slam on the breaks mid-makeout session. The sight of him climbing out of his car after putting it on pole was undoubtedly one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen. You feared what your body would do if he won tomorrow.

“Why Max Verstappen, it sounds like you have a crush on me.” Your voice is low and raspy, embarrassingly needy.

Max grabs you around the waist, pulling you down on top of him causing you to squeal in delight. “I have much more than a crush on you.” His confession has you grinning down at him like a fool.

With one swift movement, you find yourself underneath Max, his strong arms pinning you down into the mattress. The heat the floods your belly travels down to that spot between your legs, making you squeeze them together. The look Max gives you says that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He rocks his hips into yours, seeking the friction that he’s been craving since earlier in the day when you had the quick make out session in his drivers room.

“Kiss me, Maxie.” You beg. The neediness in your voice sends a jolt of electricity shooting down Max’s spine, landing straight in his already hard cock. There was no way he was going to be able to stop himself tonight. Not after all the teasing you two had been doing for the past however many weeks.

Max obliges, dipping his head so that his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. He’s been dying for this moment all fucking day. A thrill of pride floods his system when you moan into his mouth, tongue slipping past his teeth to lick up against his. “Fuck.” He groans. “I need this dress off of you right now.” He orders, sitting up so you can follow suit.

Without a second thought, you practically rip the dress off your body, tossing it across the room while Max lifts his team polo up over his head. You’ve seen Max without a shirt before but every time feels like the first time. You can’t help but admire the lean muscle that hides under his clothing, thrilled that you’re the one that gets to touch him so intimately.

You’re left squirming below him now, left only in bits of white lace and satin. If Max had less self control, he would have plunged into you right then and there. But he was a patient man and knew that he wanted to make you come before he got anywhere near you with his dick.

“Lay back.” He orders, an air of authority causing you to listen obediently. “I want to taste you.”

You practically groan at the thought of his tongue in between your legs but you don’t have to wait long before that thought becomes reality. With your head resting against one of the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever felt, you watch Max shimmy down your body with heavy lidded eyes. His long fingers slip beneath the waistband of the white lacy panties you picked up on the same shopping trip as the dress, pulling them down achingly slow. “Max.” You breathe, squirming under his touch.

Before you know it, you’re completely bare underneath him, save for the white bits of lace covering your chest and Max is nestled between your legs, staring up at you like you’re something to be devoured and savored at the same time. One finger dips into your center, an obscene sound causing you to gasp against his touch. “Look at you.” He murmurs, voice full of awe. “You’re so wet, pretty girl.”

You nearly come from Max calling you ‘pretty girl’, Lord help you when he actually fucks you.

“Have you been like this all day? Poor thing, all soaking wet and needy for me. Can I help you take care of it?” His voice drops an octave, a deep raspy baritone that sets your skin aflame.

All you can do is whimper in response, nodding your head vigorously.

Max lowers his lips to your skin then, nipping at the delicate skin at your thighs. Your hips lift on their own accord, a faint buzzing in your head taking over all coherent thought. Your entire existence stutters down to the sensation of Max’s scruffy face between your legs. When he finally brings his mouth up to taste that slick wetness that’s been begging for his attention all fucking day, you bow up off the bed, desperate with the need to have something, anything touch you there.

“Max.” You gasp, hands fisting the creamy white sheets beneath you. Never in your life has anyone made you feel the way he does right now. “Oh my God, Max.” One hand finds it’s way to his head, tugging on his hair so hard Max can’t help the moan that escapes his lips.

You know you sound so pathetically needy, whining and whimpering as Max licks and sucks and eats at your soaking wet pussy, obscene sounds filling the quiet hotel room.

“Do you like that, schatje?” He asks, voice muffled a bit because he refuses to move away from where it’s buried between your legs. “Do you like my tongue between your legs? What if I added a finger or two? Do you think you’d like that, sweet girl?”

It’s all you can do to simply nod, your voice suddenly non-existent. Max is true to his word and as soon as you’re done nodding, he slips not one but two fingers inside you. Your hips snap up off the bed once again at the sudden intrusion, overstimulation now threatening to make you collapse. Legs trembling, you squirm under his touch.

“That’s it. Look at you, taking my fingers so well. I can’t imagine how well you’re going to take my cock. Such a good girl.”

The words are just too much but when Max latches his mouth onto your clit finally, you hurtle over the cliff that he’s been pushing you towards for weeks now. Your orgasm is swift and hard, your body going stiff for a split second before you languidly melt into the mattress, riding out the waves of pleasure as Max continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body than you thought was even possible.

“Jesus fuck, Max.” You sigh, looking down at a very smug Max who is still settled between your legs. You’re practically boneless, limp against the soft duvet beneath you.

Max scrambles up your body, lips swollen and glistening with your slick arousal. He kisses you hard, the taste of you on his lips so utterly intoxicating you don’t know what to do. Without thinking, you reach behind your back, unhooking your bra so you can get more of your skin in contact with his. Max groans appreciatively seeing you completely bare underneath him. He palms one perfect breast while lowering his lips to the other, sucking the already hard nipple into his mouth. The hum of pleasure vibrates against your skin, sending waves of pleasure skittering down your spine. Max rocks his nearly painful erection into your center, the friction from the thick material of his joggers rubbing against your sensitive skin so deliciously you nearly come a second time.

“Max.” You pant, fingers sifting through his thick hair. “Max, please fuck me.”

Max smiles up at you, your second nipple now caught between his lips. “Someone is needy tonight.”

“Always needy for you.” You whimper.

Max’s sweats are off his body so quick you barely register what’s happening but the next thing you know, the head of his hard cock is sliding in and out of the mess between your legs. He pumps himself a few times with his strong hand, looking down at you with the most tender look on his face. “You sure? There’s no going back after this. You’re mine after tonight if we do this.” His tone is serious, like what’s been building between the pair of you is coming down to this very moment.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.” You tell him, hand coming up to frame his strong jaw.

When Max sinks into you the first time, the sting of his size has you digging little half moons into his back with your long, Ferrari red nails. The moan that comes from the back of your throat is downright pornographic but Max has never heard anything better. He gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness of him, wanting to make sure you’re okay. You are so achingly full with him, it’s almost too much. He’s everywhere all at once, covering your body with his lean frame, filling all of your senses with nothing but his scent, his body, his touch.

Max eases into you slowly, inch by aching inch. It’s just as much for his benefit as it’s for yours. If he goes to quickly, he knows he’s going to embarrass himself. He wants this, needs this to last as long as humanly possible. His eyes flutter shut at your blinding tightness, breath stuttering out of him in quick bursts. “Christ, schatje. How are you so fucking tight?” He murmurs in your ear, bracing his arms on either side of your body.

You’re completely speechless underneath Max, the sensation of being stuffed so full of him tearing any ability to speak away from you the second he’s inside you.

Max struggles to control himself for a few moments before he slowly begins to move inside you. The strokes start out slow, so achingly slow that you can’t help but whine underneath him. “Faster.” You pant, despite your desire for this to last for the rest of your life. “Faster, Max.” You beg.

The pair of you find a rhythm so easily it’s nearly scary. It’s almost like your bodies were molded at the same time with each other in mind, that’s how easily you come together. Max rocks in and out of you, significant length hitting that spot deep inside you every time he pushes deeper inside you. You lock your legs around his back, bringing him even closer to you. All the while, Max’s gaze never leaves yours and you sink so deeply into their depths you momentarily think you might be completely lost to him. You’ll realize hours later, as you fall into a gentle slumber against his naked body, that you are completely lost to him. They say sex complicates things. But with you and Max? With you and Max, sex only makes things clearer.

The hotel room is quiet save for the moans coming from the both of you. Slick skin slapping against heated flesh is so erotic, you can’t get any words out you’re so distracted by the sound. Max pumps in and out of you, setting a blistering pace that has the both of you hurtling towards release.

“So. Fucking. Close.” He grits out, lips attaching to your collar bone in desperate need to get closer to you. “Are you going to come again, baby? Going to come on my cock? I love how messy you are beneath me.” Max continues the string of obscene chatter in your ear, allowing you to hurtle towards your own release with him.

“Oh my God, Max. Don’t stop. Please never stop.” You beg, nails leaving deep scratches in his back. That was going to be hard to explain to his physio tomorrow.

Max grunts once, twice, three times before he flings himself over that cliff but not before he grabs your hand and yanks you over with him. His release is sudden and strong, painting your insides with his hot pleasure. He groans in your ear, that sound being the last thing you hear before you’re spasming around his cock, velvet walls gripping him so hard he can’t move for a few moments.

Max melts into you once he starts to come down from the high you brought him, dick remaining inside of you as long as he can manage. His breath is labored, filling his lungs in quick spurts. He can’t remember the last time he had orgasmed that hard, if ever.

Your legs are still locked around him but eventually, after what feels like hours, Max gently pulls out, his cum mixing with your own slick mess. The evidence of what the pair of you had just done leaks down your legs in one of the most erotic images you’ve ever seen. Rolling onto his side, Max pulls you along with him so your back is flush against his chest, sweaty skin sticking to yours.

You’re quiet for a while, brain too foggy with pleasure to say much of anything beyond a murmur of satisfaction here and there. Exhaustion plays at the edges of your mind, desperately wanting to slip into that tranquil state now that you are fully satisfied. “Max.” You breath, enjoying the way his arms curl around your body. “That was…” you sigh, struggling to find the words.

“Did I fuck you speechless, pretty girl?”

“I think so.” You murmur, snuggling even deeper into his arms. “I think so.”

“Good.” Is all he says before pulling you impossibly closer. “Now sleep, we’ll clean up in a little bit, okay?”

Not having the energy to argue or do much of anything other than nod, you simply agree before closing your eyes, basking in that post-orgasm bliss that had settled over both you and Max.

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be included!!) @shelbyteller

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #this may just be my best work YETTTTT

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lukesvangelista · 6 months ago

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𝐈'𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔ˡʰ⁴³

in which y/n and luke hate each other’s guts. sometimes, they kiss.

warnings; ohio state - michigan rivalry, luke’s a dick, kissing, situationship

It was no secret that you and Luke Hughes hated each other.

It started in college. Luke had everything going for him at Michigan. From the moment he arrived, he was the face of the Wolverines - a Hughes brother, destined for greatness. He was the golden boy of college hockey, a standout player known for consistently putting up impressive stats. It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

A year later, as Luke was about to enter his sophomore season, you arrived at Ohio State. The attention placed on him ended as quickly as it started.You were a dynamic force whose talent and tenacity on the ice made you a formidable rival to Michigan’s golden boy. While Luke was a talented defenseman, you were a just as talented offensive player known for your agility and sharp instincts. This earned you a reputation as a top contender in the world of ice hockey.

Luke could deal with that. However, one crucial play defined the entirety of your guys’ rivalry from there on out. Ohio State vs. Michigan, tied 2-2 in overtime. Joe Dunlap had passed you the puck from your defensive zone, and you had noticed that Luke had left a crucial area of the ice uncovered, just enough for you to slip by him. As he fought his hardest to catch up with you, you made one simple deke, sending the puck past Erik Portillo and sealing the victory for your Buckeyes.

From then on, he had hated your guts. And he had made it known, sending unwarranted glares your way and always checking you extra hard in games. Naturally, your hatred for him grew as well. The rivalry between you and Luke was palpable, and it reverberated through every game you guys played. Fans, coaches, and teammates alike could feel the electricity in the air when Ohio State and Michigan faced off (and it was more than just the bitter rivalry between schools), a charged atmosphere that heightened with every fiery clash between the two of you. Your intense exchanges on the ice were more than just competitive – they were personal, with every check and goal underscored by the underlying animosity between you two. Off the ice, the tension was equally evident. You would be sure to let your teammates know your distaste for him, and he would do the same.

There was no fixing it, until Luke was called up by New Jersey. There would be no more playing against you for the next few seasons.

Or so he thought.

To everyone’s surprise, you had forewent your remaining eligibility at Ohio State. The Rangers had drafted you in the first round, and wanted you in the show immediately.

The day after, the first headline came out: Golden Boy vs. Golden Girl.

In fact, the first meeting since the two of you had last faced each other on the ice started just a few hours ago. The game was reaching its climax, with both the Devils and the Rangers locked in to win in front of the crowd at Madison Square Garden.

Luke was in his element, skating with the fluidity and precision that everyone always attributed to him. You were equally as determined, matching his intensity shift for shift. The tension between the two of you had reached a boiling point, and it seemed as if every move made was a direct counter to one another.

As the puck dropped near the Devils’ zone, you sped down the ice, looking to make a play that could turn the game in New York’s favor. You were focused, your eyes locked on the puck as you maneuvered around defenders like you had played in the NHL for years.

Luke, however, had a different idea. As you approached, he timed his move perfectly, sliding into your path with a calculated, unprovoked hit that sent you crashing hard into the boards. You lay there, struggling to get up, your face contorted in pain. Luke skated away with a smirk, his eyes flickering with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, “Sorry, L/N.”

Luke Hughes hated you. You hated Luke Hughes.

Which is why it was so weird that you now sat in the corner of the hotel lobby, your hood pulled low over your bruised eye, the anonymity of the crowd soothing your frayed nerves. The game had been brutal—physically and mentally. Every time Luke was on the ice, it felt like a battle you couldn’t win. Not because he was better—you’d never admit that—but because he always found a way to get under your skin.

Your heart pounded. You shouldn’t go. You guys shouldn’t keep doing this. No one knew—no one could know. But after every game, no matter how much you swore it would be the last time, you always found yourself answering his texts.

Luke didn’t look up when you slipped into his room, the door clicking softly behind you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands like he was trying to figure out what to say before he said it.

You leaned against the door, your heartbeat still racing and your body still sore from the game. The silence stretched between you guys, heavy and charged, like it always did. Here, in the quiet, there were no crowds, no coaches yelling from the bench, no rivalry pushing you to be perfect. Just the two of you, trapped in a mess neither of you could quite untangle.

“You played dirty tonight,” you said softly, your words breaking the silence. There was no anger in your tone—just exhaustion.

Luke looked up at you then, his eyes tired but sharp, a faint smirk on his lips. “So did you.”

You let out a soft breath, moving from the door to stand in front of him, her arms crossing over your chest. “This needs to stop.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he sat back on his hands, studying you like he always did, as if searching for the truth behind your words. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t wrong. Every time you told yourself it was the last game, the last kiss, the last night you’d sneak into his hotel room, you found yourself right back here, standing on the edge of something neither of you could control.

“I do.” your voice was soft but shaky, betraying your resolve.

Luke stood, closing the small gap between your bodies in one step. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of him, the scent of his body wash. Everything about him felt like a challenge—on the ice, in the press, even here, in this room.

“You don’t hate me as much as you think you do, Y/N.” His voice was low, a whisper that made you shiver.

You hated how close he was, hated that he could read you so easily. “And you don’t care as little as you pretend to,” you shot back, your eyes locking with his.

That smirk faltered, just for a moment, before his jaw tightened. “Maybe not,” he admitted quietly.

There it was. The vulnerability he only ever showed when you were alone, when you weren’t in front of your teams or your fans, when you didn’t have to pretend. You hated that it made your chest ache, hated that you cared.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, like you were afraid saying it out loud would make it all too real.

Luke reached up, his fingers brushing a loose strand of your hair from your face, his touch soft in a way that made your heart twist. “Neither do I.”

And there it was. The truth that neither of you wanted to admit. That this—whatever it was—had become something neither of you could walk away from, no matter how much you told yourselves you should.

You felt yourself lean into him, just slightly, your body betraying your mind. “No one can know,” you murmured, your eyes closing as his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“No one will,” he whispered back, and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t the rushed, heated kiss you’d shared so many times before. It was slow, deliberate, full of all the things you couldn’t say out loud. His hand stayed at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin as if he was trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed him back just as softly, your hands gripping his shirt, not to pull him closer, but to keep yourself steady.

When the two of you finally broke apart, your foreheads pressed together, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt different now, heavier.

“You know this is going to blow up in our faces, right?” you said, your breath still uneven.

Luke closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I know.”

You sighed, stepping back, needing space but already feeling the pull to close it again. “We’re still enemies, Luke.”

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. But the way he looked at you, the way his gaze softened just for you, made it hard to believe it was that simple anymore.

You reached for the door, your heart still racing, knowing you’d come back. You always did.

And maybe, deep down, you both knew that was the real problem.

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forzalando · 1 year ago

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Seeing Someone

Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)

summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)

Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.

Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.

He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.

“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”

“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”

“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”

Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”

Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.

“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.

“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.

In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.

As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.

“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”

“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”

Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?

“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”

Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.

“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”

You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.

“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.

Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”

He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.

“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”

Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.

“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”

“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”

“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”

“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”

“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.

“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.

You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.

A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.

“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.

“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”

“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”

“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”

Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.

Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.

“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”

Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.

“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”

“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”

“He is literally on a hot date.”

“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”

You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.

“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”

“You flirt with Lando?”

“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”

“That’s your idea of flirting?”

“Well, yes.”

“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”

You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”

“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”

You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.

Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.

“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”

“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”

You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”

“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”

You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”

With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.

When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.

You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.

“Lando! What are you doing here?”

“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”

“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”

“It was good. Great. How about yours?”

You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”

Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”

“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”

Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.

did you go on a date over the weekend?

no? why are you asking me that?

well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’

he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?

i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?

You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.

ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”

insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point

i literally haven’t been on a date in two years

let me figure this out

You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.

Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.

“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”

“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”

“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”

“Going on a date is personal.”

“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”

Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.

“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”

Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.

“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”

Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.

“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”

“I might have.”

“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”

“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”

“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”

Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”

Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.

Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.

“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.

“Why did you take time off?”

Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.

“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”

Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”

He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.

“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”

You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?

“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”

“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”

You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”

“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”

Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.

“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.

He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.

“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”

“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”

“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”

“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”

Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.

“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”

You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.

“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.

“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”

His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.

It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.

It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.

Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.

The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.

You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.

A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.

You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”

A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful.

“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”

“Lando, I – ”

“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”

You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.

“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”

He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.

“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”

“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”

“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”

Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”

“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”

“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”

“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”

You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.

“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”

“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”

“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”

He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.

“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.

“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”

Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.

“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”

On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.

He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.

“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.

Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.

HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?

You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.

not quite yet, but soon :)

#lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader

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copperbadge · 2 months ago

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So, I have a friend who recently had fairly serious surgery, of the "high risk but lifesaving" kind, and afterward between the pain of recovery and the painkillers to deal with it, he understandably had issues with focus. He couldn't read anything longer than an email for about six weeks; even audiobooks were too difficult. He spent a lot of time falling asleep while watching nature documentaries on Netflix.

This week he finally felt like he could concentrate enough to start reading books again, so I asked him what book he'd chosen to start with, and he said, "Don't judge me for it being Tom Clancy."

Now of course I wouldn't. Genre fiction, especially your average thriller or romance novel, are easy to digest, so it makes sense. But it got me thinking, if I couldn't read for six weeks, what would I choose to return with? New book or old favorite?

I think for me it would be something familiar, but I'm torn. On the one hand something easily digestible like Anne McCaffrey's Dragonsong would be simple and well known. On the other, something like Jack London's The Sea Wolf which I read almost ritually every few years, has deep emotional resonance...but is a bit complicated as a first book back.

I think I've settled on The Great Gatsby, which I reread often like The Sea Wolf but is slightly less philosophically complicated. And shorter than East of Eden, another strong contender.

Either that or a Rex Stout novel, but I feel like a whodunit would be stressful.

#books #reading

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mead-iocre · 11 months ago

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Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.

Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years.

Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–

She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her.

“Mama!”

Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of you—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed.

You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but you swear she’s Viv's mini me. They both have the same stubbornness (although Viv would argue you were also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.

During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.

But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.

Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.

Her daughter was going to jump.

Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil.

She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”

“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”

“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.

Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her.

“Waffles!”

Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!”

Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie”

——————————

Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink.

Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”

Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer.

“Everyone” being your toddler.

She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same.

After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama.

You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.

Just like a little duckling.

But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines.

“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”

What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room.

“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“

You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.

“Mama!”

Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child.

“Ducky, that’s enough” You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”

But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.

“Want Mama!”

“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides.

“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"

Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.

“–Liefje”

You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.

“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer.

You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting.

“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch.

You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head.

The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.

And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”

“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours.

You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama”

Evie did not need to be told twice.

Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”

Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler.

Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…”

She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me”

Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow.

One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat.

“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap.

———————————-

So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer–

“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back.

You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room.

“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again.

But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic.

“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”

You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns.

And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap.

“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone.

You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you.

“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions.

Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be.

Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions”

“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”

Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile.

“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.

“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”

You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.

“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”

“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”

Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”

You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.

“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler.

———————————————

Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.

“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”

Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath.

“…I- I love you, Mummy”

Hey, my loves!

It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol

hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.

I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient

-- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

#woso x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #viv miedema

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

18+ / mdi

content: newboyfriend!vernon, new relationship, friends to lovers-ish, smut, f reader, public sex (it's indoors but they have roommates so ..), fingering, oral (m and f receiving) mentions of penetrative sex, chan is traumatized, spit, too much tongue, etc.

wc: 1485

a/n: this is nasty as hell and not proofread whatsoever 🫡

masterlist

you and vernon had not been dating for too long. a few weeks at most. you'd been more than friends for a while, however. well, not exactly. you'd liked each other for a few years, never doing anything about it, but pissing off everyone else around you who had to deal with the pining of their two unsuspecting friends.

it had been a few weeks ago that the dam had finally broken.

you had gone clubbing with a group of friends, vernon included. as per usual, you spent a while at a table with your friends until you grew bored, deciding to go dancing instead. it seemed like some guy had the same idea, as you soon found yourself dancing with some random guy who kept pressing himself against you. you dont remember exactly what was said after that, seeing as you were slightly tipsy, but a few moments later and you were now holding hands with a peeved off vernon as he dragged you out of the club and into an empty alley.

a heated conversation followed after that. you had never seen vernon express this much emotion, scolding you for being so careless with some guy you didnt even know. you could tell he wasnt drunk, but he was clearly at least a little buzzed, so you chalked off his behavior to the effects of the alcohol, barely having the mind to pay attention to what he was saying. that is, until he muttered the five words you'd been wanting to say to him for years.

"i'm in love with you."

what happened after that could only be described as public indecency, as the both of you let your desires take over and fucked against the alleyway wall. and that was only the beginning of what was now your relationship with your new boyfriend.

all your friends had been ecstatic at the new development of your relationship, happy that they would no longer have to lend their ears to your cries of hopelessness whenever the other would show interest in another person. but that happiness only lasted a little while. ecstatic could no longer express what your friends felt towards yours and vernon's new relationship.

annoyance? irritation? disgust? these were all the contenders for what your friends felt, yet again, at walking in on you in the middle of yet another depraved act with one another.

depravity. there was no better way to explain it. it seemed like you and vernon were always desperate for one another. since that first night at the club you just couldnt take your hands off of each other. any separation felt like a third degree burn. one look at your cleavage would have vernon dragging you away, begging you let him drag his tongue all over your tits. one look at vernon sitting on the couch, legs spread, led you do kissing at his ears, demanding he fuck your mouth.

day after day, you and vernon found new ways to touch one another, no matter where you were. just like now, as seungkwan, dokyeom and chan walked across the unlocked door of their shared house.

the scene was familiar by now. you on your knees, cock gliding up and down your throat while vernon sat on the couch, hands tangling your hair as he groaned at the tightness of your throat.

"b-baby, fuck. just like that.."

he was too lost in pleasure to pay attention to the sound of the door unlocking, but did not miss the loud screech seungkwan let out as soon as he spotted you.

"GET A ROOM!" yelled a scandalized seungkwan as you hurriedly separated your mouth from your boyfriend's dick, cleaning off the spit around your lips as quickly as possible.

dokeyom stood there, hands over his eyes while chan had his eyes glued to your disheveled form.

seungkwan sneered at you to get out, to 'have some decency', and promptly exited the room while you and vernon ran off to his own room to continue with your ministrations.

that had not been the first nor the last time that happened. the next time would present itself soon after in the form of you and vernon making breakfast together early in the morning. well, you making breakfast while vernon felt you up from behind, dragging his hands over every curve he could get to.

"n-nonnie .. you heard kwannie," you sighed, not really being able to think straight due to the feeling of your boyfriend's big hands pinching your nipples as he kissed your neck. "we ca-can't keep doing this out in the open like this .."

"but baby ... feel so fucking pretty against me .. just this once, yeah? let me have my breakfast? hmm?"

you were a weak one, because that's all it took to let your boyfriend remove your shorts as he ate you out from behind, right in the middle of the kitchen.

"baby .. taste so fucking good .."

"shit, want this every morning."

"yeah .. fuck, just like that. push it against me, baby."

"do you feel my tongue, baby? yeah? it's that good?"

his words against your pussy were making you light headed, not being able to process your surroundings as you whined at the feeling of his tongue dragging itself across your most sensitive places.

unfortunately for you, your whines had the same effect on vernon, leaving you both too distracted to hear a sleepy chan approaching the kitchen.

"FUCK!" he screamed, startled at the view of your ass on full display, with a vernon covering half of it with his head as he desperately licked at your folds.

you both quickly jumped into action, vernon standing in front of you to cover your naked half from the intruder.

"i- the kitchen?! eating ass in the kicthen?! where we eat?!", complained chan, more exasperated than ever.

"i-he wasnt eating my .." you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught once more.

'nevermind, i'll go eat at jun's. disinfect the kitchen when you're done' and with that, he left, muttering something along the lines of 'disgusting' and 'degenerates' as he walked away.

chan had been right, as that was not the last time you and vernon would be caught in a situation like that. the next (and probably not last)time, you had been having a movie night with your three roommates. you all sat on different parts of the dark living room, chan and seungkwan on the couch, while you, dokyeom and vernon were under some blankets on the floor.

inevitably, you and vernon sat under the same blanket, cuddling as you paid attention to the screen. but that, of course, didnt last long. it seemed like it was impossible for you and vernon to sit in such close proximity without putting your hands on one another. fortunately for you, you were sitting an at angle where chan and seungkwan could not see you very well from the couch, and dokyeom was sitting about foot in front of you, leaving you out of his line of sight.

it started with vernon pressing a few light pecks on your shoulder, then moving onto a few short kisses on your lips. knowing the smacking of your lips would make too much noise, you opted for subtle licking of each other's tongues as you wantonly breathed into each other's mouths.

if there was one thing vernon was good at, it was at using his tongue. the way he kissed you always made you lightheaded, as he always knew ways in which to play with your tongue that made your eyes roll back. just like now. with your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his tongue probing into your mouth, vernon gestured for you to stick out your tongue for him. he then proceeded to quietly let a glob of spit fall into your tongue, quickly using his own to force it further into your mouth. as he did this, he had snuck his hand under the blanket, probing at your panties.

he continued quietly kissing you as he rubbed you through your underwear, refusing to stick his fingers inside but providing you with enough friction to make you wanna whine into his mouth.

at some point you became too aroused to keep kissing him, instead letting your mouth fall open as you breathed against his own. vernon took this as an invitation to lick even more into your mouth, speeding up the rubbing of his fingers against you. you eventually managed to cum with a quiet moan against vernon's lips, thinking yourself successful at not getting caught. that was until your thoughts were interrupted by a whine from dokyeom.

"you guys are disgusting. i'm literally like five inches away!"

"are you fucking again?!" now was seungkwan's turn.

"god, please tell me they're not naked .." chan added.

you and vernon sat through ten minutes of scoldings and complains at your lewd actions, knowing you should probably just move out at that point.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon fanfic #hansol smut #hansol x reader #hansol fanfic

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