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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

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♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, bathroom sex, bullying, overall just really filthy smut, virgin insert, virginity loss, somewhat dom reader, somewhat bully reader, somewhat yandere reader

♡ FEM reader

You look like one of those girls that never smiles. Like, if he were to take that empty seat next to you in the lecture hall, you’d scowl with stink eyes and then proceed to fully ignore him. Yeah, a real bitch. That's what you look like—scary. He bets all your socials are filled with the same picture—the same deadpanned pouty face over and over, every single one with hundreds of likes and comments saying “Wow, babe!” followed by a dozen emojis from besties and horny admirers. Selfies in the mirror, showing off skin in your tight tops and short skirts—similar to the outfit you’re wearing now. Captions saying, “You can look, but you could never touch.” Yeah, he bets you’re a real attention whore. And the worst part is that you’re not even overselling, either. You’re gorgeous—even with that sour look on your face, he’d pay cold, hard-earned cash in exchange for a pair of your worn panties.

Yeah, there’s no way he’d dare sit next to you. He’s already sweating bullets just thinking about it. Even though you’re one in a million similar girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day, he's still one in a million loser incels who would do anything for it. And that’s the cold reality.

Even if he’d like to get just a whiff of your sweet perfume, he can’t. The status quo forbids it. He’s afraid the jocks will smell fresh blood in the water the moment he does, then swarm him in a matter of seconds, circling before tearing him to shreds. They’d beat him to a pulp in the bathroom, smash his head in over the sink—piss in the toilet, then flush it down with his bloodied face—and he’d have to walk reeking of it all the way home.

So, no—he really can’t sit next to you.

But no other seats are available, and the lecture is starting soon…

Why did absolutely everyone decide to show up today?

Oh fuck it, this isn’t high school. College bullies surely don’t bother with petty cases like this, right? They’re all about their frat initiations and rivalries to have enough spare time to beat him up over improper seating. Oh, but what if you’re one of their girlfriends—you’ll tell on him, and then he’ll definitely be beaten up, maybe even killed.

No. He’s overthinking—like always. No one is that mean. If you don’t like him sitting there, you’ll just tell him. And he’ll move. No harm done. Right? He’s not sitting in the stairwell when there’s a perfectly good and empty seat right there, right? Is he?

Yes. Yes, he is.

“Hey, if you’re looking for a seat, this one’s empty,” a sweet voice calls out over his inner monologue, making him clutch the strap of his bookbag tighter with a flinch of his entire rigid body—his eyes peeled as he looked around to try and find the source of the sound even though he knew where it had come from. It’s as if the possibility of your voice sounding like anything aside from a she-demon was out of the question. But no, it is you.

But there’s no way you’re talking to him, so he looks around again—there must be someone else in need of the seat aside from him. But then, why are you looking right at him? Are you pulling some type of prank? Are you really that cruel? You’re probably filming him or something—live-streaming—the chat’s blaring with ew, what a creep and omg, uggo alert right about now. He should just go home before the jocks, along with the rest of the internet, can get him.

“Are you okay?” you ask—but no, he must be hearing you wrong—there’s just no way, even though you’re looking right at him. “I think it’s starting soon—you should probably sit.”

It’s as if his fight or flight response is broken because he does the exact opposite of either—as if on autopilot, sitting down in a rush against his better judgment.

The lecture starts shortly, solidifying his choice, but he can’t pay attention. No, he needs to keep his guard up. Any second now, someone’s going to do a drive-by and throw a milkshake at him or something vile of the like, and you’ll have filmed it all even though he can’t spot you holding a phone—and then the entire hall would burst into laughter at his expense.

“Pst—” A soft whisper comes from next to him, from between the gloss of your pretty lips. You smell like candy and fruit, and it makes his gut tighten—both from anxiety and something more shameful. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a pen I could borrow? Mine’s all out’a ink.”

You give him an awkward smile, and he very nearly runs away. But no, he’s glued to the seat—with nervously wrecked hands shaking as he bends for his bag and unzips it, reaching for his pencil case painfully slow as if disarming some type of bomb. Redoing the same when he opens the case and rummages for a viable pen he could offer.

When he hands it to you, he’s almost sure you plan to stab him with it. But you do no such thing.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You cheer instead, beaming with a much brighter smile than before. “I owe you!”

His ears ring with your praise. Blushing beat red as he rips away from your gaze—still unable to focus on what the professor is preaching—not when from out of the corner of his eye, he can see you sucking on his pen like a lollypop—or something else not so innocent.

Oh, he’d been so wrong.

So, so, so very wrong.

You do smile. You smile a lot, actually. You just have one of those faces that rests bitchy. But still, bubbly airhead or not, a girl like you still shouldn't be seen with a loser like him. It’s social suicide. And still, you’re on your knees before him in a dirty little bathroom stall—the same dirty bathroom stall he feared getting a swirlie, scraping the walls with his nails to try and thwart his assailants—only, now clutching the walls for a much different reason, holding on for his mortal soul as you seek to suck it out of his fat throbbing cock.

You want to repay him—you’d said—for the pencil. He hadn't understood why you’d winked at him before you’d all but dragged him off and flung him inside the men’s bathroom, having his very life flash before his eyes.

You both make the sloppiest sounds as you make an utter mess on and of him, making him cry on all fronts—cock weeping with thick pearly beads of pre while his eyes well up with tears down his flushed face, all sweaty with panic and bliss.

The moans springing from his chest are virginal and raw and sweet music to your ears, panting for you like a puppy—you’re sure they can hear him out in the hallway when passing by. One of his hands clasps itself on top of his mouth, holding tightly to keep it all within—eyes shut and brows cinched. And yet, he makes no effort to shove you off—hips left jerking and jittering in response to your refined technique where you take him deeply, all the way down to the base, hallowing your cheeks, throttling him with your throat as your tongue wipes his creamy slit clean.

It’s painfully clear he’s never experienced anything like it, but that’s what turns you on the most. Sick as you are, you could suck him dry and savor every drop of him, knowing you’re the first ever to get a taste. But no, by now, your pussy’s so soaked you feel yourself dripping past the soggy lace of your panties, running down your soft thighs in waste.

He’s misty-eyed when you pull off with an ever-cruel pop—a sick mix of relief and sorrow warping his chest, feeling conflicted by the pulse making him think he’s on the verge of a heart attack if you continue—and another strumming his cock, making him think he’s going to keel over and die if you leave him unfinished.

Even so, he’s in a state of complete shell shock as you mount him on top of the toilet seat he’s melting against. Chest heaving, watching you as you lift your skirt up and peal your slick underwear to the side for him to lay his bleary swiveled eyes on your bared and dripping pussy.

“I love nice guys like you—” you moan, pouring the honeyed words down his throat as you ghost his parted lips with your spit-slicked ones, straddling his lap and shimmying ever closer until your tits squish against his chest. “They make me so wet, I lose all self-control.”

He gulps in your shadow, looking up at you for mercy—cock twitching painfully between your thighs as your wrap your hand around his base real snug, giving him a nice tug as you line him up with your needy heat—making him all but squeal beneath you.

Your other hand makes its way into his hair, braiding your fingers within the locks to hold him steady—gently pulling his head back while leering down at him like caught prey. Playing with him just so, teasing him with your words, all in your sultry voice, making his head spin hot with a fever, “You’ll be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

His breaths are heavy and wet, coming out shaky with his instant answer, “Y-yes—” all weak in a pathetic whimper that almost has you cum too soon.

“You’re so nice~ thank you,” you croon against his lips, kissing him sloppily with your tongue in his mouth as you shift your hips and start lowering your sopping cunt down upon his seeking length, taking him in with greedy ease, eagerly gripping his soft cockhead like a toy in a claw machine.

“Fhu—fuck—” he stutters under his breath, whinging before planting his teeth into his lip to keep it at bay—feeling like putty beneath you, sweaty and heavy and dumb, eagerly wanting all which you sought to give him—only more flushed at your mean undertones as you play with him like food on a silver platter.

You sling your arms around his neck and push your chest harder against him, moaning all too brazenly, “Oh! Fuck yes—that’s so good,” you sing while slowly taking him in further. “A nice guy with a big bad bully’s dick is the best!”

He whines in return as his inches get eaten—each devoured one by one until his tip kneads into the mouth of your womb.

Sighing happily, you kiss his cheek and put your lips right at his ear with another wanton whimper, “You fill me up so so good.” Roosting on the size, thighs resting flush against his, feeling all giddy as it stretches you out oh-so-nicely. “Such a good toy-cock for me,” keening at the way it twitches inside you, pulsing in response to your tight walls, clenching it in ways it’s never before felt.

His eyes are already rolling back into his skull once you start lolling your hips—riding him, but keeping him deep at all times—lifting just enough for it to pull out only a little before sinking back down, making it settle into that perfect needy little spot inside you that makes your whole body shiver in delight.

“Mmh,” You suck his ear lobe, releasing it with a soft bite, before smiling down at him and his sweat-pilled expression. Cooing at him, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He can’t even answer with words anymore, only giving a dumb mewl as he nods his head. But, of course, you’re already well aware.

“Mmh—” your eyes gleam with delight, giving his lap a mean ride, leaving him all but breathless, before asking, “D’you like it, virgin boy? ‘You like my pussy? Like the way it milks your chubby cock for your cum?”

He nods again, even more eagerly this time—looking downright pathetic in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to?” you offer to his desperation, feeling as though he’s falling apart at your fingertips, needing you to hold him together. “I’ll let you since you’re such a sweet guy—” you tease while clenching his cock, making it impossible to want anything else no matter the consequence. “In exchange for a favor, of course.”

He couldn’t care less what the favor was—way beyond willing to pay any price you ask of him as he finally makes a move and grabs your hips with a strength you hadn’t thought he had the balls to perform, planting you down firmly and holding you with such need as his hips jitter and stutter—resting his cheek on your shoulder in drool and tears with a lovesick groan leaving him as he fills your pussy up with his creamy spend.

His whole body shakes—spasming in cute little aftershocks as he clutches onto your body, hugging you tightly.

You respond in kind, cuddling him and kissing the top of his head. “That was so warm and filling—what a good boy—you did so well,” you murmur ever-sweetly while petting his head, combing through his sweaty locks with your long glitter-pink nails—keeping your voice saccharine. “Did you enjoy yourself, hm? Your first time cumming in pussy instead of your dirty ol’ sock?”

You pick his face up—cupping his sloppy jaw in both palms—his eyes half-mast and glazed as you nose-kiss him with a smile on your face.

“You loved it, didn’t you? Silly virgin boy…”

Your cunt tingles at the sight of him—wrecked beauty, sweaty and undone. You feel his cock unswell inside you and decide to lift off and release him—letting it flop out and splat on his tummy in a puddle of slick.

“Look,” you fuss, holding his face in direction of it. “You made such a pretty mess—isn’t it lovely?”

Your pussy is left glistening and puffy, still wanting and waiting for its final hurrah. Your breath turns headier and so does your voice, now with a new darkness to it as you whisper, “Time for that favor, sweet boy.”

He blinks dumbly, impossibly hopeless, wrapped so tightly around your pinky it’s pitiful. Of course, you take advantage—guiding his head to level with your cunt.

“Open wide, tongue out flat.”

He obeys wordlessly. And oh god it makes your gut stir viscously—watching his tongue loll free between parted lips.

Your voice flares with bliss at the sight, shy of unhinged, as you giggle breathily, “That’s right—taste the pretty mess you made.”

He’s pushed face-first, trapped between your thighs with his jaw like an open cup beneath you, tonguing the mixed slick from your slit and slurping it all up without shame.

And fuck—it feels so good, you lose even more of your mind while tugging him even closer—all but pulling him off the toilet seat, making him kneel down on the floor instead. And still, he makes no effort to escape, but the opposite—seeking to go deeper into your cunt, crying into you as he laps up every last drop of yours and his arousal—making your thighs quake around him, grinding down against his mouth, onto his eager tongue, having it pet your clit over and over until you also come to the same sudden stumbling halt.

“Yes—yes! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna—it’s coming—”

And there it goes, ripping along your loins, surging from your lower belly. With both your hands tangled harshly in his hair, he’s not going anywhere, lips locked with yours as it starts pouring.

You’re squirting on him—hot and hard—on his tongue, inside his mouth, down his throat, in his belly. You’re squirting on him and he’s drinking it, he realizes—but even so, he isn’t able to stop. Instead, he unwinds his jaw even wider, digs his tongue deeper, and accepts every drop of the warm stream as it drenches his face and splashes down his collar and shoulders, utterly soaking his shirt, making in see-through as it clings to his chest like a second skin.

You’ve closed your eyes and thrown your head back, basking in every last little twitch of your body as you relieve yourself all over his face.

Finally, after a moment, you let go of his hair and step back—feeling refreshed and happy with your work—seeing the poor loser sit before the toilet, all drenched and exhausted with his limp cock spent and messy, looking like a beautiful wreck.

You smile, pulling your panties back in place, and you skirt down again before unlocking the stall and opening the door, only looking back at him for a moment, tapping your nail at a few matching pink scribbles written on the wall. “Here’s my number and address if you wanna have more fun." And then you leave, just like that. "Bye-bye~”

♡ BNHA – Amajiki, Deku, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Yuuta, Choso, Nanami ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kenma ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Isagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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httpsserene · 7 months ago

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𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

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imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well.

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason.

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed.

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers.

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib.

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year.

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan.

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today.

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

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user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

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user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x black!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #charles leclerc fic #oscar piastri fluff #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: ln.#♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: op.#serene's chapters.#serene’s fave.

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

Text

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it.

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month.

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you).

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants.

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail.

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude.

Newsflash: extremely.

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered.

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day.

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him!

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive.

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day.

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case…

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others.

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking.

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win.

You do make the entire month absolute torture though.

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything.

Even walking around the apartment naked.

But somehow, he doesn’t budge.

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut.

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin.

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

He would honestly be pretty good.

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result.

He fucks you all night.

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is.

He heard you two last night.

He was 4 doors down.

Oops.

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press.

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money.

They ask him what for.

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost.

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you.

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month.

He didn't really care.

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media.

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk.

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price.

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever.

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before.

He has to make up for lost time, right?

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose.

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time.

He has absolutely no shame about it either.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while.

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up.

The month was torture though.

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no.

You were impressed at how long he lasted.

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot.

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money.

He heard you, of course.

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early.

He vows to win next year.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it.

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way.

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis.

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it.

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do.

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you.

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that.

But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame.

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways.

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month.

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again.

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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5sospenguinqueen · 2 months ago

Text

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms.

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander.

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face)

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen?

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over”

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun!

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :(

user1 she looks soooo good wtf liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?!

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red!

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this!

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together!

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour

user4 he looks much better with yn

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look

user3 not kelly liking this!

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is!

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the end picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue”

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there!

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver?

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you!

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

2K notes · View notes

girlygguk · 13 days ago

Text

WINTER THINGS ⋆ JJK

it’s jungkook’s favorite time of year and the only thing on his list is you. getting to finally feel you, see you, meet you outside of his computer screen. now it’s happening. and, god, you’re even prettier in person.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 6 of 6

pairing jungkook x gf!reader

genre fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, long distance established relationship, communications major jk, art & design major oc, they’re both gamers who met online, way too much valorant talk, first time meeting in person, simp jk, down bad jk, loser jk, emotionally reserved oc, but jk makes her feel at Ease, kissing, tiddy sucking, pussy fingering, pussy eating, munch jk

word count 4.8k

banner by the amazing @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

author’s note i actually have sooo much more i could do w this couple but the holidays got in the way and i had to wrap er up 🎁 thank u guys sm for all the love ❤️ hope u had a lovely & merry merry christmas!!! :*

Jungkook didn’t mean to die.

He was mid-round, lurking through a corridor, carefully timing a push when a headshot clipped his ass clean. The disappointed groans of his teammates crackled through his headset, but Jungkook barely noticed. Any other time, he would’ve had the guy first. Easy.

But any other time, he didn’t have his gorgeous girlfriend getting ready right there on his very own phone screen.

Your iPad was propped up against one of your hand-painted jewelry boxes, angled just right to catch you sitting in front of your vanity. From the moment you started your makeup, Jungkook had been distracted. Now, all his attention was on you—completely, helplessly.

You were brushing mascara through your lashes, lips slightly parted as you tilted your head back to reach the roots. A soft breath escaped you, and Jungkook’s hand slackened on his mouse. His fingers twitched as his gaze followed the curve of your pouty lips, the slope of your neck, and the fabric of your winter sweater where it clung to your soft figure.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat lightly as the familiar throb in his sweats made itself known. “Shit,” he muttered, tugging at his headset with one hand while the other hovered uselessly over his keyboard.

“Hm?” Your soft, distracted hum broke through the static of his team chat. Your mascara wand hovered mid-swipe as your big eyes flicked toward the camera, your head tilting slightly. “You okay, baby?”

Jungkook scrambled to confirm his mic was off. “Yeah, baby,” he rushed, blinking rapidly as if it might snap him out of the daze he’d fallen into. “You look so pretty.”

Your lips curved faintly, but your attention had already drifted back to your reflection. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning closer to the mirror to perfect the flick of your eyeliner. Jungkook didn’t respond. He just sat there, helpless, watching you like you were the only thing in his world. And you were.

His match was long forgotten, his fingers frozen on his mouse as he soaked in the sight of you framed by the soft purple glow of your LED lights. Dressed in that dark red sweater, getting ready for a friend dinner, you were miles away from him, and still, he felt like he could reach out and fucking touch you.

Three days. Three more days and then he’d finally be on a plane, finally getting to seeing you in person. The thought made his belly rumble with excitement.

It had taken over a year to get here. To go from the quiet, indifferent girl who solo-queued Valorant lobbies to the girlfriend who now wore his hoodies that he sent her in the mail because they smelled like him.

He could still remember the first time he met you. That random day during last winter break when he and his best friend Yoongi had been running games all day and decided to play one more before calling it a night.

You were in that game.

You barely said a word, only responding if spoken to, only comming when absolutely necessary. You were focused, unfazed as you carried the entire team through the match.

Jungkook had always been a hopeless simp. But with you, it was something else entirely. From the moment he heard your sweet, honeyed voice carrying a tone that made it clear you couldn’t give a fuck less about him... yeah, he was a goner.

That game, he’d pushed too far, not expecting the two opponents waiting around the corner. You had been lurking behind Jungkook and killed both enemies before they could even touch him. Your voice was calm, detached, as you told him to follow you.

And he did. Of course he did.

He could still hear the confused hum you’d let out into the mic when he froze on B site, waiting for further instructions from you. As if this wasn’t the second highest rank in the entire game. As if he hadn’t sunk hours into perfecting his gameplay.

“Plant the spike...” you’d said, the slightest hint of frustration in your voice.

Yoongi had laughed. Jungkook had blushed.

“JJ?”

You were propping your iPad against the edge of your drawer now, stepping back from the screen. Jungkook blinked, his brain stuttering as you came into full view. You were wearing a short black skirt paired with the same sweater that had been driving him insane since the moment you pulled it on and let him watch. The hem of the skirt swished lightly as you twirled, tilting your head as you gestured toward yourself.

“Do you like it?” you asked, turning to show how the fabric skimmed over your upper thighs.

Jungkook stared, his big doe eyes wide and dazed. He nodded quickly as heat climbed the back of his neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a very much,” you teased, turning back toward the dresser. You reached for a bracelet, the soft jingle filling the silence as Jungkook tried to scrape together a coherent thought.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed finally, as his fingers flexed restlessly on his desk. “So pretty, baby. What time will you be home?”

You glanced back at the camera, your expression softening. “Thank you, honey,” you said, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist. “Probably around ten? I’ll call you when I’m back.”

Jungkook nodded instantly, his lips lifting into a broad smile as he watched you lean down to slip on your Docs. “Three days,” he chirped.

Your smile deepened, that rare, quiet smile he’d spent months trying to pull from you. “I know, baby,” you said softly, your tone warm as you slipped on your other shoe. “I’m very excited.”

“Me too.” His grin broadened, his cheeks warm and flushed as he flicked his team chat off entirely, ignoring the sound of his teammates yelling at him for going idle. “So excited, baby.”

You picked up your phone, tucking it into your bag before glancing at your iPad one last time. Your soft smile lingered as you said, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, baby,” Jungkook replied softly with a dumb smile.

You blinked down at your device, gaze raking over your boyfriend’s pretty, dazed face before a light laugh escaped your lips. “I love you, JJ.”

His eyes widened, and he almost smacked his forehead for nearly letting you go without saying his favorite three words. “I love you more, baby. Have fun.”

Jungkook watched until the call ended, leaving him staring at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.

Three days. Three more days.

Your fingers tapped idly against the side of your phone, clenched tightly in your hand. Your gaze flicked quietly around your surroundings as your free hand fiddled with the hem of your jacket. You glanced down once more to double-check the text he had sent ten minutes ago.

just landed baby ❤️ waiting for my luggage

You had responded with your exact location by the pickup terminals, a message he had heart-reacted to almost immediately. He shouldn’t be too far now.

Still, the minutes felt endless. You brushed an invisible speck of dust off your black mini dress, your fingers moving to tug at an imaginary thread on your sheer stockings.

Then the sound of a bag dropping beside you jolted you. You spun on your heel and came face to face with the boy who had taken over your life for the past year.

Jungkook stood less than an inch away, a blue puffer jacket shaping his broad frame as the widest grin split across his face. His hair was fluffy, pushed back just enough to reveal his soft forehead, and his big doe eyes sparkled as they took you in.

Your heart lurched, and before you knew it, you were smiling wider than you thought you ever would. Then you were moving. Your hands slid to the sides of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before you could think to stop yourself.

Jungkook melted instantly. A soft groan escaped him as his hands slipped beneath your unzipped jacket, gripping your sides to pull you flush against him. His lips were warm, pressing slowly against yours—soft, sweet, perfect. Just like him.

When you pulled back, his brow creased slightly, and his lips instinctively chased yours. You didn’t deny him, letting him press another kiss to your mouth. Then another. And one more. His lips lingered, each kiss slow and gentle, leaving your eyes closed and your heart racing.

When he finally pulled back, it was with a soft inhale against your lips before he grinned again. “Hi, baby.”

You smiled at the sound of him out of breath, and when Jungkook opened his eyes, his heart stuttered at the sight of it. It was so much prettier in person.

“Hi, JJ. Merry Christmas Eve.”

Your apartment was quiet as you unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch. Jungkook followed closely behind, his gaze sweeping over the room as you led him in.

The walls were dotted with your paintings—abstract swirls of color, faces, little scenes that made him smile. He even recognized a few pieces from your video calls—the tiny clay bunny on your coffee table, the stack of notebooks filled with sketches you showed him if he begged cutely enough.

Jungkook grinned as he stepped further inside, dropping his bag on the ground near the entryway while you shut the door behind him. He toed off his sneakers next to the mat as you leaned down to unzip one of your boots, your fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. You wobbled.

Straight into him.

Jungkook caught you immediately, his hands firm as they wrapped around your sides. His heart stuttered in time with your misstep, his chest tightening as your loosely curled hair spilled toward him, brushing over your shoulder. You looked up at him, your voice soft as you murmured, “sorry.”

He barely heard it. You were so close, he could smell you—the warm, sweet honey scent of your skin mixed with a perfume that reminded him of dark berries.

“You smell so good.”

You’ve straightened now, fully upright as you met his gaze. His hands still lingered under your jacket, the heat of his palms seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his smile faint and dreamy.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Glossy, the faint sheen of lip balm somehow still intact despite all the kisses he had stolen in the back of the Uber when the driver wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” you confirmed quietly, your lashes lowering as your gaze traced his features, taking him in like you were seeing him for the first time.. “Smell just like the hoodies,” you murmured, “but better. Stronger.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his touches growing greedier. His hands slid a little lower down your sides as he leaned toward you, his pretty nose brushing yours.

“Did you bring more?” you asked, your words a soft breath against his mouth.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod, his lips hovering so close you could almost taste them. “Three. Is that enough?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then you couldn’t wait anymore. You closed the gap.

Your hands slipped up to wrap around his neck, and Jungkook let out a soft noise that vibrated into your mouth. His hands slid further under your jacket, palms pressing firmly against your waist as he pulled you flush against his body. His lips parted against yours, and when your tongues brushed, the softest, sweetest sound escaped you. Ssstraight to his cock.

Your fingers twisted into the back of his hair, and Jungkook groaned pathetically into the kiss. His hands slid down from your hips to the back of your thighs, lifting you to wrap your legs around him. When your tongue lapped his again, your head tilting to taste more of him, the whimpery noise he let out was pitiful. You loved it.

Neither of you spared a thought for the boot that slipped from your foot as he carried you until your back met the door with a soft thump. The kiss was messy, noisy, desperate as you both moaned into each other’s mouths. It felt like you were making up for all the nights apart, all the times you had to settle for fucking yourselves over FaceTime, getting off together but never really together.

Your mouth broke away from his, your head falling back against the door as you panted softly. Jungkook didn’t miss a beat, his lips eagerly brushing along your jaw as his hips pressed forward. The hard line of his cock rubbed against your pussy through the denim of his jeans, pulling a shaky breath from your lips.

“I can’tt, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, whiny if you will. His hips rolled again as his hands gripped you tighter. “You’re so soft. Smell so good. I fucking can’t.”

“Why are you holding back?” you breathed, your voice trembly as your hips ground against him, forcing a choked sound from his lips. “We’ve been so patient, honey... You can have it now.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath before his mouth was back on yours, needy as he licked into you, relishing in the sounds you gave him. His greedy hands roamed, sliding under the hem of your dress, up the soft skin of your thighs, until they landed where your stockings ended. Your ass.

This fucking ass.

The ass he's stared at so many times through so many screens. The ass he's watched jiggle just a little as he jerked his cock while you held a vibrator to your clit, your hips shaking as you came for him. The ass he's praised and admired in all the pairs of panties you tried on just for him—ones he had ordered for you, or ones you bought yourself, saying you had another haul to show him if he wanted to see.

If he wanted to see? God, it was like you didn’t even know him sometimes.

He's fantasised about this ass more times than he could fucking count. And now, it was in his handsss.

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fatty flesh as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your nails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck, swallowing his little whine as you grinded harder against his crotch.

“Fuckk, baby,” he breathed against your tongue, arms tightening around your bum to lift you off the wall. This time he carried you to the couch with hurried steps, your jacket slipping further from your shoulders with each movement.

When he reached the couch, he laid you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he hovered above you. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants, his lips red and swollen. He sat back on his knees, dragging a hand through his messy hair, the glow of his flushed skin making him look unreal. For a moment you wonder if this really was happening. If he really was here.

You sat up slightly, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the ground as Jungkook’s hands found your remaining boot. He tugged at the zipper, easing it off your foot before tossing it to join the growing pile of clothes on your fuzzy, multicolored rug—the rug he mentally noted to tell you he really likes when you two were done.

His gaze flicked to yours briefly before he grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The fabric caught slightly at the back of his neck, making him huff softly before it joined the pile. So cute.

Your eyes immediately dropped to his broad chest, and a teasing smile curled your lips as your gaze caught on his nipples, the small, dark buds already hardening from the slight chill of your flat. You couldn’t help it; you’d always had a fascination with them—something he learned quickly during your video calls that turned dirtier, filthier, the more you did them.

Jungkook caught your look, his lips parting as his chest rose in shallow breaths. “Don’ttt, baby,” he grumbled, a flush spreading from his neck to his round cheeks.

You just smirked, leaning back against the couch, letting him take you in. Your dress was gone, leaving you in nothing but your bra, panties, and the cute little red-and-green anklet socks you’d worn under your stockings. For some reason, they made his cock swell even harder in his pants.

What? He loves Christmas...

Jungkook leaned down to find your lips, his hands pressing into the cushion on either side of you. His body slotted perfectly between your legs, his hips grinding into yours as he groaned softly into your mouth. You could feel his cock harden against you, pressing deeper into your warm core, and a moan slipped out, legs tightening around his waist.

His lips trailed down, kissing along your jaw, then your neck, stopping at the hollow of your throat to suck. His gaze dropped further, locking on your chest. He stilled, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Godd,” he muttered, his voice thick with pure awe. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly, pupils blown. “You’re so fucking…”

But he couldn’t even finish. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing the tops of your boobs as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it hastily, the straps sliding down your arms before he pulled it away, tossing it to the ground with a fucking gulp.

Jungkook exhaled heavily through his nose, his eyes drinking in every bit of your soft, bare skin. He wanted to ask if he could take a picture... but that thought could wait. God, it had to wait.

“Fuckkk,” he said again, this time louder, a soft groan escaping his lips. A quiet laugh escaped yours in response as his head dipped right down.

He kissed the swell of your breast, his big, warm tongue flicking out to circle your nipple slowly. His pouty lips closed around it, suckling softly, and he let out the most whimpery sound you’d ever heard from him—and your boyfriend had made a lot of those.

His hand cupped your other breast, his thumb brushing over the hardening bud before rolling it gently between his fingers. A quiet whine slipped from your lips, your back arching as his tongue swirled and flicked. His mouth grew hungrier, movements more eager as he switched sides, long fingers kneading the plush flesh while he nipped, licked, and lapped.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, pushing more of your boob into his mouth, which he accepted with a happy choke. Your breaths came faster, your hands tangling into his hair as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. Wet kisses trailed lower, across your ribs, down your soft stomach. His lips brushed over the flesh there, his tongue darting out for a little taste, before he reached waistband of your panties.

He glanced up at you with wet eyes and shiny lips, a soft flush painting his cheeks. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties, quickly pulling them down. The air against your core made you shiver, and Jungkook groaned softly at the way your hole clenched in response to the cold.

His hands adjusted your thighs on either side of his head, ensuring you were comfy, and when you smiled down at him, he beamed back before pressing a little kiss to your inner thigh and dipping down.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, dragging right up your folds before circling your clit lightly. Your thighs tensed immediately, a little cry spilling from your lips as your hands clutched tighter into his hair.

He groaned into you as his hands spread your thighs wider, holding them open against the couch when they treatened to close. His tongue moved with one goal, dragging down and back up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed every drop of slick you were making for him.

“Sh-shit, baby,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking noisily. “Shittttt, JJ—”

You couldn’t finish the thought. The way Jungkook switched between licking and sucking, his big nose pressing firmly against your clit, made any coherent words evaporate. He buried himself deeper into your pussy, breathing you in as he ate. Like, literal deep inhales. You could feel them.

Your hips bucked up instinctively, a movement that pulled a surprised, happy whine from his throat. He dragged his tongue down, dipping it into your little clenching hole, before sliding it back up to circle your clit with eager, sloppy flicks. Your jaw tilted up, your head pressing harder into the couch cushion as the pleasure bloomed in your belly, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

“Is it fucked that this is exactly what I thought it would taste like?” Jungkook mumbled through his mouthful. He pulled back just enough to breathe the words, his pretty mouth and chin glistening, tongue darting out again, lapping at your slick like he couldn’t fucking stop. “It’s so fucking good, Y/n. God, have you tried this, baby?”

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan slipped from your lips, your head falling back again as your fingers twisted into his hair. “Baby, please,” you started, your voice shaky as your hips jerked up again, “shut u—uhhhh.”

The last part of your sentence dissolved into a grunt as Jungkook slipped a thick middle finger inside you, curling it just, stroking your walls while he suckled at your clit. He whined at the feeling of your plushy walls coating his finger, his big tongue lapping up and down while pumping the digit deeper.

When he pushed it in to the knuckle, the throatiest, loudest moan tore from your lips, and Jungkook moaned right the fuck back, his lips vibrating around your clit as his eyes fluttered shut. He felt the spongy plush of your g-spot with the tip of his finger, and he swears to fuck his cock started to cry.

His hips shifted against the couch as his big eyes watched your hole clench around his digit. “Woahh, baby,” he mumbled, his voice thick with wonder. “So pretty. Pictured my fingers in your pussy so many times. This is crazyyy, baby.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re really cute, JJ. But I’ve been waiting for this for a year... Let’s cum first, and then we can talk about how crazy it all is, okay, honey?”

Your hands tugged harder at his hair, knowing how much he liked it from the times you’d discussed kinks and likes over phone calls. Jungkook practically purred at the sting and your words. He didn’t think he’d ever agreed with something more in his entire life.

When he added a second finger, the stretch made you fucking shudder. His fingers were so long, so thick, filling you so well that your thighs clamped around him instantly. He didn’t mind—he loved it, in fact. His moan vibrated wetly against your cunt as he spread his fingers slightly, fucking them into your hole harder.

“Fuckkk yes, babyy,” you whimpered, your back arching off the couch. Your hands tugged at his hair, your hips grinding against his face as your stomach tightened. “That’s itttt, baby. That’s fucking it.”

“Mmmmf,” he moaned, his tongue flicking over your slippery clit as his fingers pumped in and out, the wet squelch of your juices echoing as he lapped them up eagerly.

Your breath hitched, your moans morphing into sharp little cries as his hand tilted just slightly, the angle of his fingers brushing your puffy spot every fucking time.

“Fuck, JJ, fuck, fuck, fuckkk—”

He pulled you closer with his free hand, gripping your soft thigh as his tongue worked faster, licking and munching at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten all day.

“Baby,” you cried, your head tipping back. “I’m sorry, JJ, I—I’m gonna cummm, fuckkk! I’m sorr—yyyyy!” Your words dissolved into a high pitched squeal as your body convulsed, your pussy pressing desperately against his face. The orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, leaving you trembling and shaking into the couch.

Jungkook whined greedily at the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers, the fluttering grip making him thrust against the cushion for relief. He pushed his fingers as far into you as they could go, curling them up inside to drag every last bit of pleasure while his mouth suctioned hard around your throbbing clit. He followed your pussy as it quivered and tried to escape the stimulation, his throat bobbing happily as he swallowed all your slick.

His fingers slowed, his tongue moving gently as he lapped up everything, your hips jerking softly against his face, which made him smile cutely.

When you finally stilled, your breathing uneven, he pulled back with a little pop. His lips and chin were soaked, his hair a mess from where your hands had tugged at it, but his eyes were so bright. He licked his lips, a cute bunny grin spreading across his face as he looked up at you.

“Can’t believe you apologized for cumming, baby. That was so hot.”

You were both sitting on the floor next to the little Christmas tree Jungkook had helped you put together—your first Christmas tree ever.

Your parents weren’t ones to celebrate the holidays, and the season had always felt like a chore, something to just get through. But your boyfriend loved it, and he had a way of making you like things you didn’t think you cared about before.

The heater was cranked high, both of you showered and warm, now dressed in the matching Christmas pajamas Jungkook had bought for you guys in his hometown. The living room smelled like cinnamon from the gingerbread cookies you’d baked earlier, another absolute must Jungkook insisted on for the holidays.

It was all very cute. The mess, the lack of an apron, the flour smudged across his cheek that he didn’t notice. He looked so happy, his face bright as he popped a misshapen cookie into his mouth and declared it perfect. He was right. It was perfect.

Now, you're plopping a wrapped gift into his lap, curling your knees to your chest as you watched him with wide eyes. He grinned down at the box, his fingers brushing over the carefully taped edges before looking back at you.

“Baby, it’s so heavy. You went over budget, didn’t you?” he asked. “That’s okay—I did too.” He rambled on giddily, and you stayed quiet, maybe a little nervous, as his eager hands tore open the paper.

And then, for the first time since you’d met the rambly boy, he went silent.

Your gaze swept over his face, your hand lifting to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear as you tried to gauge his reaction. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes flicking down to the gift in his lap—a framed painting, the one you’d spent weeks working on in secret.

The longer the silence stretched, the more your nerves prickled. Then, his eyes started to well.

“Honey, it’s not meant to be a sad paint—”

“I know, baby!” he cried, his voice trembling as he sniffled. He set the painting gently on the floor before surging forward, pulling you into his lap.

“JJ,” you cooed through a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your shoulder. His wet hair tickled your skin as you kissed his cheek. “You like it?”

“I love it so fucking much,” he mumbled into your neck, his voice thick. “Oh my god, I love it so much. You fucking painted me? Are you kidding me? Fuck my gift! Oh, fuck it! This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten. I look like such a shitty, thoughtless boyfriend now. Fucking paintbrushes, oh for fucks—”

“Baby,” you scolded gently, your lips brushing his temple. His arms only tightened around you. “I love your gift so much. Remember? I almost cried… You pointed it out.”

He sniffled, leaning back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and glassy. “Swear?”

“Swear, my love.” You nodded, running a hand through his damp curls. “I’m only going to use them exclusively when I paint you from now on.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, his eyes widening a little. Then he pouted, his wet lashes batting at you as you kissed him softly on the lips. “I know you’re joking,” he muttered, “but that kind of turns me on.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled, your arms looping tighter around his neck as you pressed another peck to his pout. “Merry Christmas, JJ.”

His lips pulled into a big bunny grin, fingers spread over the small of your back. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

aaaaand that is IT for christmas & chill!!! aside from the breakdowns and delays on my part (who’s surprised Not me), i’ve had sooo much fun and will forever cherish this series. not just because it helped me connect w so many of you sweetiepies over the holiday period, but because it brought me closer to you, my piccola @lovieku. we all have u and ur beautiful, polymath mind to thank for c&c. love you baby

1K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 11 months ago

Text

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

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katsu28 · 4 months ago

Text

summer's golden haze - chapter one

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a small town somewhere in beautiful greece, early morning coffee runs, and the cute boy that you keep running into. (4.8k)

warnings: sort of shy!reader, a bit of swearing, lando being both smooth and a little awkward

a/n: series masterlist coming soon :)

“That guy is totally checking you out.”

You reluctantly drag your attention away from the truly addicting pasta you’d ordered to meet your friend’s gaze across the table, slightly suspicious, but also a little curious as to what she’s talking about.

Samira is grinning knowingly at you already, mischievously, like she’s got a tasty bit of information you don’t know about. Probably not tastier than the food in front of you, but your interest is piqued nonetheless.

“What guy?” You sigh, giving into your curiosity quite easily. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at you, then tilts her head to the side discreetly, and you follow her gaze towards—

Oh. That guy.

You saw him on your way to your seat at first, a group of four guys sitting a few tables away in the same patio area of the restaurant, drawing your attention even before you’d sat down. Artfully messy brown curls swept up out of his face, thick dark brows framing bright eyes crinkled with laughter at something his friend had said, you’d felt yourself growing conscious of the man’s existence with just one glance.

And then his gaze had flicked to your friends passing his table, but more importantly, your own gaze, and you’d nearly stumbled on your own feet.

Your cheeks had grown hot at the intensity of his stare following your path to your seat, not to mention the embarrassment that had flooded your veins at the thought of nearly eating shit in front of this very attractive stranger.

Had you grown the nerve to look back at him at the time, you would’ve seen his lips quirk into a goofy grin, as well as all the shoving he’d gotten from his friends as they’d caught wind of his unabashed staring.

Now you’re almost done with your meal, and you could swear you’ve felt him looking at you plenty more times. Not that it mattered at all, because your eyes have been firmly glued to your food and your friends only.

Okay, so you might’ve hastened a few covert glances over in his direction too, but he’s been chatting away to his friends every time, so maybe you’re just making nothing into something.

“Don’t even try to hide it, you’ve been making eyes at him too, girl,” Your other friend, Maren, pipes up, elbowing you in the arm playfully. The last of your girls, Camille, nods her agreement, smiling gleefully. “He’s hot.”

Right, so perhaps not as covert as you’d thought.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” You reply, spearing another piece of pasta through your fork. You’re kicked under the table at that moment, hard enough to warrant the whine that escapes your mouth. “What?” Now you're met with three pointed glares your way. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s cute.”

“Go talk to him!”

“Go flirt with him!”

“Absolutely not!” You exclaim. Your voice comes out louder than you intend and you duck your head quickly, worried you’d disturbed the peace of the quiet area. “He’s probably got a girlfriend already or something.”

“If he does, she better dump his ass because he's been giving you fuck me eyes all damn night.”

“No, he has not,” You hiss, which only gets you yet another look from them. You’re starting to get tired of all these looks, actually. “Has he? I mean—are they? Fuck me eyes?”

“Oh yeah, he—”

Camille clears her throat, cutting Samira off. “No, they’re not,” She assures you, placing a hand over yours. “He’s been smiling every time he looks over.”

“Maybe he’s looking at one of you guys?”

“He’s definitely been looking at you.”

You bite your lip, nose scrunching skeptically. You haven’t really been the subject of any guy’s attention before, let alone one as handsome as this one. You’ve learned it’s better not to get your hopes up when it comes to certain situations. This seems like one of them. “Are you sure?”

“If I’m wrong, I’ll give you back your share of the villa rental.”

“Can I get that in writing, or…?”

Before any of them can come up with a smart remark, a plate is placed into the center of the table, on which is a large square of baklava, light and flaky with that sweet, sugary filling spilling out the sides of the piece that almost makes your mouth water. You’d seen it in the dessert section of the menu earlier, but had decided against ordering it in favor of trying an appetizer instead.

“Oh, excuse me? We didn’t order this,” Maren speaks up, looking up at the waiter.

He does a half turn, sweeping an arm in a vague direction. “It is from the gentleman in the blue shirt.”

You follow his gaze, and fuck, your heart skips a beat in your chest, because it’s him. It’s the same guy you’ve been drawn to all night, and he’s actually looking right back at you this time. His hand comes up in a wave, then back down to his side almost immediately, like he’s worried about it seeming too eager, before settling with a reserved nod. All the while, he’s still got that smile gracing his face that makes your stomach flip flop.

“He sent over a dessert?!?! I am so keeping that money, girl,” Camille hums, picking up her fork to dig in while Samira and Maren voice their agreement.

You, on the other hand, well…you’re not sure what to think. You appreciate the gesture, but you're also confused. Why did he send something over? What did he want?

It doesn't occur to you that he’s truly taken an interest in you until you're huddled outside with your friends talking next steps of the night. Whether you want to keep exploring this new place, or call it a day and go home. You’re firmly on the latter’s side because you're tired. But you’ll go along with whatever is decided.

The guy and his friends have coincidentally left the restaurant at the same time as you did, judging by the sudden commotion that erupts behind you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, your gaze lands on him yet again, only this time, you actually lock eyes with him. Something jolts through you, something electric up your spine like a tiny shock. Something you’ve never felt before. You shove the foreign feeling deep down, no matter how much you’d like to explore it.

He looks away, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to quell the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you avert your wandering eyes too, before anyone else notices. Evidently you’re a little too slow, because all three of your friends catch on instantly.

“Go talk to him already.” Camille says matter-of-factly.

“No, I—what do I even say?”

“Maybe hello would be a good start?”

You press your lips together, unimpressed, and you get a snicker in return, something about how you're not asking for his hand in marriage, you’re just trying to make conversation. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s that you’re not exactly sure how to approach it. You’ve already convinced yourself of the worst, but to possibly have it play out in real life is a tangible fear of yours, and always has been.

One of your girls (you’re willing to bet more money it’s Maren) gives you a not so gentle shove towards him, as does one of his friends over in his group. Now you’ve got no choice. You meet each other in the middle, just looking at each other for a few moments. It’s awkward and you have half a mind to turn and go, but then he speaks.

“Hey,” He says.

“Hi,” You reply shyly, shifting on your feet nervously. He shoves both hands into his pockets. He looks a bit nervous too, which does a significant wonder to calm you. “Thank you for the baklava. It was delicious.”

“Yeah, of course. Glad you guys liked it. Figured you can’t go wrong with a classic.” He bobs his head, shoulders creeping up towards his ears in a shrug before dropping back down. “I’m Lando, by the way.”

Lando. It’s not a name you’re expecting, but it suits him well.

He sticks his hand out almost instinctively, like he’s been conditioned to do so. Maybe he has, considering the aura of professionality it gives off when you do shake his hand.

His palm is smooth and warm against yours, long fingers curling around your hand like the sincere smile that curls his lips as you tell him your name in return. Dimples bracket his mouth on both sides.

The handshake almost lasts a little too long for two people who’ve just met literally a few moments ago, as does the way his eyes linger upon yours.

Even in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the warm glow of the lamps above you, you can see him much better up close. His sunkissed skin does little to hide the flushed pink on his cheeks that travels down to his chest, disappearing under the generously unbuttoned blue linen. You feel exposed under his intense gaze, looking back at those mesmerizing eyes. Blue, green, gray—maybe a mix of all three, you’re not sure, but you can’t help but want to figure it out.

Then you remember that you don’t know this guy at all, and it brings you back to reality.

“Lando, like…the guy from Star Wars?” You ask. It breaks the invisible tether between the two of you and he smiles, laughs a little bit too.

He shrugs casually. “Not according to my mum and dad, but I do get that a lot.”

“You must get tired of hearing it from people then.”

His head tilts to one side, smile going endearingly lopsided. “Depends on the person. Like, I didn’t mind when you said it just now.” You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just smile, and he takes your reaction in stride, moving on. “Are you guys from around here, or…”

“No, actually, we’re—um, we’re just here on holiday.”

“Oh, same! Yeah, we’ve been here a few days now, it’s been great. Is this your first time in Greece?” He asks, smile turning warm. You nod. “Have you checked out the local market yet?”

“Can’t say we have yet, no. We just got in the day before last, so…still figuring out our footing first. But I’ll keep it in mind, thank you!”

Lando inhales sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hey, y’know, if you want, maybe we could—”

“Oi, Lando! Let’s go, mate!”

He glances back over at his friends, one of whom is waving for him to return to his group rather wildly, before turning back to you. Whatever he was about to say is lost now, because he shrugs loosely. “Guess that’s my cue,” He sighs. Then his gaze softens, smile turning a little hopeful. “Will I see you around again? Small town and all.”

“Uh…I dunno. Maybe, if it’s meant to be.” You have to try with all your might not to take the statement back, even though you really, really want to.

If it’s meant to be—who the fuck says that? Like fate has anything to do with this miraculous interest Lando seems to have taken in you. If you were him, you’d find your words quite off putting. Instead, he smirks, crooked and cute.

“Meant to be,” He repeats, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah alright, I’ll take my chances. Have a good night.”

You bid him a soft goodnight, barely able to stifle the giggle that spills from your mouth when he nearly trips over the cobblestones on his way back to his friends. He’s awkward, you think, but still confident. It’s cute.

Lando stays rooted in your mind the rest of the night, all the way up until you’re lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take hold of you. It’s weird to think this much about a guy you’ve just met, a guy who you’ve only had one conversation with and have left things up to chance in terms of seeing him again.

-------

You’re the first one awake this morning, roused from your sleep by bright sunlight pouring through the window, even through the curtains. Contemplation of going back to sleep crosses your mind, but it’s no use. You’re up now, so you might as well make the most of your early morning.

You love your friends dearly, but some alone time sounds like heaven right about now. There’s a coffee spot not far from where you’re staying that you remember seeing on your way in that seems like a perfect match to your solo walk, so you head there. You’ll be a nice friend and bring coffee home for when they eventually wake up too.

After dropping them a text letting them know you’ve gone out, you set off. The walk back into town is short but serene, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives, and a reminder of why you’d all decided to vacation in this particular region of Greece in the first place.

Someone calls out something that sounds like your name before you can step into the shop and you pause, casting a glance around to see if your ears might be playing tricks on you. You’ve only been here a few days, and the only other person who knows you other than your friends is…Lando.

You squint a little harder to see through the glare of the sun, and lo and behold, there he is, hands linked behind his head. The grin that lifts your face is almost embarrassing, or would’ve been had Lando not been so eager upon seeing you wave at him.

He’s clad in athletic shorts and a cutoff tee that shows off muscles you’re trying your very hardest not to stare at as he makes his way closer, curls tucked away in a baseball cap pulled low on his head. Headphones dangle from around his neck, and he’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily very clearly once he’s stopped in front of you.

“Hey, good morning! I thought that was you,” He breathes, attempting to catch his breath. “Early riser too, I take it?”

“Honestly, not usually! The sun decided I would be today, though, so…here I am.”

“Here you are. Guess it was meant to be then, huh?” He chuckles, reaching up to flip his cap backwards. If you thought he was tan the night you met, he’s even tanner in the sun, bronze skin stretching over sinewy muscle that flexes as he sweeps a hand through his hair before tugging it back down in one smooth motion. “Doing a coffee run?”

“Yeah, I’m the only one of us awake at this hour so I figured I’d bring them back a little something.”

“You’re a saint. I’d let my mates suffer if it were me,” Lando snorts.

You shrug. “Guess that’s the difference between the two of us.”

“Yeah?” He hums, looking amused. “What else is different between you and me?”

“Well, first of all, I would never be on a run at eight in the morning. Is someone punishing you, or is this a self-inflicted torture type thing?”

That gets another laugh out of him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Gotta keep in shape or my trainer might try to kill me with workouts instead.”

“You’re an athlete?” You pry, intrigued. He looks the part, you think. Lean but not skinny, strong but not massively built. A runner, maybe?

Lando freezes a split second, rocks from foot to foot, scratching at his nose. “Kind of, yeah.”

“What’s your sport?”

“Uh…golf. It’s more like a hobby than anything else.”

“Golf,” You repeat, an amused smile poking at the edges of your mouth. “Can’t say I know a thing about it.”

“Oh, it’s definitely something else, for sure. Super intense stuff, really grueling.” His words say one thing, but he’s grinning like he’s pulling your leg, lip pulled between his teeth in that same way as last night, nose scrunching adorably as he bobs his head quickly to further sell it.

“Sure, if you say so. But d’you think your trainer would get mad if you cut your super intense training short to grab a cup of coffee with a friend?”

You’re almost expecting him to say no, but Lando perks up instead, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Not at all. Shall we?”

Over coffee, you find that Lando is an excellent conversationalist—funny and a good listener, an even better storyteller. He asks about you without seeming pushy or prying, and because of that you feel yourself relaxing a bit in his presence. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a good thing with him, no matter how short or fleeting it may be, whether it’s friendship or something more.

A few weeks of summer in a place you've never been with a boy you don’t know is the time to be a little bolder. Chances are you’ll never see Lando again after this trip, so why not loosen up just a little bit?

It’s only when more people start to trickle into the shop and you start to notice Lando’s eyes shifting over your shoulder more that you realize you’ve been here with him for a while now. And judging by the dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of your friends on your phone when you go to check it for the first time since you’d left, you’ve been gone a lot longer than you said you’d be.

You know them well enough to know that they’re not above calling the local police to send out a search party for you if you don’t find your way back soon.

“Friends wondering where you are?”

You nod, sending a quick message that you are indeed alive and not kidnapped like they feared, before tucking your phone away again. “Guess I better get them their coffees for sure now, or else they might not let me back in the house.”

“Lemme buy it for them,” He offers sincerely, offering you a lopsided grin. You shake your head rapidly at the suggestion, but he continues, “I’m the reason you’ve been gone so long, the least I can do is buy them drinks. Call it an apology for making them worry, yeah?”

“You really don’t have to, Lando.”

“I know. I want to,” He insists, looking truly genuine. First dessert last night, now coffee today. You have half a mind to push back a little more, but you get the feeling Lando is as persistent as he is handsome, so you taking a firm stance on something like this seems like a moot point. Giving in, you nod, and he mirrors it, looking proud.

He lets you take the lead in reciting your friends’ orders once you’ve made your way back over to the front counter, stepping forward with a hand to the small of your back to pay for the drinks before you have any bright ideas to pull one over on him and pay for them yourself.

The barista smiles politely, pen hovering above a cardboard cup. “And a name for that?”

Lando casts a furtive glance around the area before leaning in and saying his name quietly, as if he’s worried he’ll run into someone who he doesn’t want to see. You notice, but don’t really pay it any mind. You understand far too well not wanting to talk to someone you're unprepared for.

Soon enough Lando’s got the drinks in hand and you’re back outside, and he’s smiling again. You’ve noticed he does that a lot when he looks at you. You’re sure you’re the same way with him.

“My mates and I, we’re planning on having a little barbeque at our villa tomorrow night. You should come,” Lando says encouragingly, tilting his head to the side. When your brows raise in surprise, he hastily adds, “And your friends too, obviously. We’d love the company.”

“Ah! Um, I dunno. Wouldn’t wanna crash your thing.”

“You wouldn't be. Seriously, come hang out. We’re fun, I promise!”

“I just—I forget if we’ve got plans, that’s all.” You’re not lying when you say it, you truly forget if you’re free tomorrow night. Most of it stems from your awful memory, but a small part of it attributes to how your brain kind of stops working properly around Lando.

“Right, well, you figure that out, and if you find you’ve got a free evening,” He balances the drinks deftly in one hand, the other fishing his phone out of his shorts pocket and swiping at the screen briefly before holding it out to you, “text me, let me know.”

You’re not sure where you find the boldness to tap your phone number into his contacts, but you do it with confidence, saving it under your name and a smiley face.

“Cute.” Lando smirks, chuckling as he sends a simple hi so you've got his number too. “Now, I believe these are yours, and…maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? If it’s meant to be.”

You smile at the mirroring of last night’s words from him as you situate the cardboard tray in your own arms. “Maybe.”

The smile hasn’t left your face even by the time you arrive back home, because you’ve been thinking about Lando the whole way. For a stranger you’ve met only yesterday, he’s sure been occupying a lot of space in your mind. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

You’re already prepared for the berating you’re about to get as you close the front door behind you carefully, making your way to the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been?”

You look up to see all three of your friends sitting around the kitchen table, and none of them look particularly happy. You smile innocently, holding up the cardboard tray of drinks up as a peace offering. “Coffee?”

“It better come with an explanation.”

Nodding vigorously, you dole out each drink to your friends. “It does, I swear. I didn’t just disappear, I ran into—”

“Hold the fuck on. Why does this say Lando? Why is that man’s name on my cup—”

“Oh my god, you did not get coffee with him without telling us!”

“You bitch!”

That’s how you end up telling them the whole story—running into him in town, talking for ages, and that brings you to your next point.

“We don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, do we?”

“There’s the vineyard tour in the afternoon, but that should end around five. Why?”

“Lando invited us to a barbecue at his villa,” You say quickly. That gets their attention immediately, all of their eyes widening in the same shocked looks. None of them answer your question though. “Is that…something we’d be interested in?”

Samira is the first to snap out of it, mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Invited us, or invited you?”

“Definitely just her.”

“Whatever! Do we wanna go or not?” You grumble, doing your best to fight the grin threatening to overtake your face. The thought of him wanting to spend time with you brings you a teensy bit of satisfaction.

“Of course we’re going!”

After they’re done poking fun at you, you’re able to take a moment to top out a quick message to Lando. That barbecue invite still up for grabs?

You're not expecting an immediate answer, but your phone dings with a text back before you even set it down.

Lando: Of course. Plans fell through?

You: seems like you’ve really made an impression on my friends

Lando: Not sure whether to be scared or flattered…

You: your guess is as good as mine! we’ll find out tomorrow :)

Lando: Brb gotta go call my lawyer and update my will

“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you?”

You look up from your phone to see Camille leaning in the doorway to your room, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, he—uh, he says he’s looking forward to meeting you guys again.” She comes to sit beside you, looking like she wants to talk about something. You set it aside, head tilting in a silent question.

“Do you think you’ll stay in contact with Lando after we leave?”

“I’m not sure. Haven’t really thought about it all that much, to be honest.”

If you do think about it, you haven’t even known Lando for more than a day. You’ve only just met him yesterday, seen him twice, one of which was completely spur of the moment. So what if that spur of the moment encounter was the most connected you’ve felt to someone in a long time?

You don’t know him, and chances are, he’s not looking for anything serious. You don’t even know if you’re looking for anything serious.

“It’s okay if you want to.”

“I shouldn’t want to,” You say. It feels like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. You look to Camille for an answer, but she just pats your hand. “Right? I’m never gonna see him again, so I shouldn’t get attached.”

“You don’t know that for sure, do you?”

“I guess not. It feels scary, though. Opening yourself up to something when you don't know what’ll happen.”

Camille hums, a placating, even comforting sound to soothe your worries. She’s always been pretty good at getting you to see the brighter side in things. “There’s fun in that too. Being spontaneous, surprising yourself. You never know, Lando could be just the thing you need, the one you didn’t know you were looking for. And if not, you don’t have to see him again. A win-win, I’d say.”

She leaves you alone to your thoughts after that, left to ponder what exactly it is you want. It might be stupid and entirely over-optimistic of you, but Lando has already pulled you in. You’re not sure what it is about him. He makes you want more, want to know more.

Whatever happens will happen, and if things don’t work out…well, Camille is right. You never have to see Lando again.

His name flashes across your screen later in the night, right before you’re about to go to sleep. You’ve been texting back and forth all day, but this one is different. He’s video calling you right now.

You stare at his name for longer than you should, finger hovering over the answer button a few beats before pressing it. His face pops into view once the call connects. Like you, he’s sitting in bed, leaned up against the headboard, cozied up in a soft looking jumper. He looks like he’s moments away from drifting off, but he called you, so he must want to talk.

“Hi,” You say softly.

“Hey, you.” He smiles, warm and sleepy and all squinty in a way that makes you want to crawl through the screen and tuck him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. “You must be tired.”

“Eh, I’m alright. Why?”

“‘Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

You let out a wildly unappealing snort of laughter at his poor attempt at a pick up line. “That’s terrible! Oh my god, that was awful, Lando, seriously.”

“No?” His smile grows giddy, shoulders shaking with his chuckles. “Yeah, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Got you laughing though.”

Conversation falls into the same easy nature as this morning, like you’ve known him for ages. He makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, smile until your cheeks feel the same. It still amazes you just how comfortable you feel around him, as someone who usually takes a while to warm up to people.

Maybe you should take it as a sign.

A jumble of muffle voices offscreen some time later makes Lando squint. “Hang on, I’ll be right back. Don’t hang up. ” He lets the phone drop onto the bed, checking once to make sure you’re still there before disappearing from sight.

You hear his footsteps fade, then more voices you can’t quite make out. Someone laughs off in the distance, and then he’s back, resituating himself with the remnants of an amused grin on his lips.

“Everything okay?”

“My mates are yelling at me to turn off the light, so I’d better go,” He sighs goodnaturedly, lips turning down into a frown. Then he yawns widely, and you realize how late it’s gotten since you’ve picked up his call. Losing track of time when you’re talking to Lando seems to be a recurring theme. “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.”

Your breath catches a little in your chest, both at his words and the way he’s looking at you through the screen as he says it, nothing but genuine. “Me too.”

You’re starting to think this whole try not to get attached thing is going to be much harder than you thought.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new chapters :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x fem!reader #ln4 #ln4 x fem!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris series #lando norris imagine

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maxlarens · 5 months ago

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Driver!reader and oscar starting the race from p1&p2 and before they put their helmets and stuff they kiss one last time on the grid and people go like "awwwww" because it was somehow filmed

i feel like u sent this in to be like a concept or something but I HAD to write it. i’ve been writing for lando so much lately i’ve very much been missing oscar + driver!reader. plus i’ve not ever written them in an established relationship before!

It’s not like you and Oscar are a secret.

It might have been easier that way, to keep your relationship from the public’s prying eyes, but it’s not really your style. It’s not Oscar’s either.

Being public comes with its problems— questions from the media, awkward interviews, your respective PR teams going a little buck wild, extra contracts and NDAs to sign— but it also has its benefits.

You like be able to talk about him, like being able to call him your boyfriend. ‘Oscar Piastri, the driver for McLaren? Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’. You like hearing him say things about you, praise your driving skills, talk about you as a rival and as his girlfriend. It’s all you can do to stop grinning like a madwoman whenever you’re in his vicinity. You equally like that the press can’t comment meaningfully on it, can’t speculate wildly about the nature of your relationship when you’ve made it clear.

Some people hate it. They think you’re a silly little girl with her head full of romantic notions. No room for skill, for ruthlessness. Which is funny, given that Oscar receives only praise for “bagging you”. You think they’re just jealous; if not of the fact that Oscar’s dating you and not them, then of your duality. The way you can love Oscar wholeheartedly and also race Oscar wholeheartedly.

They’re not mutually exclusive in your experience.

Naturally, there’s a massive buzz about you and Oscar being P1-P2 on the starting grid.

You’re not particularly surprised. The MCL’s had been performing well all through practice, just as you and Lewis had. You pull out pole in quail, fastest Q1 and Q2, with Oscar hot on your tail. There’s a barrage of bizarre questions in the media pen,

Do you think Oscar’s grid position will impact your performance during the race? Why would it?

Will this affect your relationship with Oscar? No.

What happens if one of you wins and the other doesn’t? The same thing that happens every time anyone wins ever?

You’re confused by it. Bordering on snarky and sarcastic the fifth time someone asks if you and Oscar might break up over this. Rolling your eyes, thinking your true feelings are obvious, you tell some Italian journalist that yeah no we might break up if he doesn’t let me win.

It’s funny, objectively it’s hilarious. You and Oscar laugh over it later that afternoon. Send the clip to a group chat you’re in with a few drivers closer to your age. And so what if it’s still funny when clickbait articles and gossip sites start saying that the two of you have broken up.

There’s even more buzz about it by the morning of the race. Journalists you’ve already talked to have suddenly become convinced that you and Oscar are on the rocks. You can’t help but play into it a bit— partially for the benefit of your PR team— arriving separately, forgoing the couple snap that you usually grace Kym Illman with, giving vague no-comment answers when the media accost you.

Maybe it’s a little childish, a little dramatic. But it serves them right for jumping to conclusions.

You avoid any presenters on the grid walk, sinking into the protective circle made by your engineers. Staying behind the roped off areas until about 10 minutes to race start when you finally hop over the MCL in P2.

Oscar’s drinking water, looking smug when you push through McLaren engineers, so used to your continued presence that they let you in with ease.

“Hey,” you greet, reaching out to smooth the collar of his fireproofs, “How’s it goin’?”

“Mm,” he hums, cutting a glance behind you, which you take to mean that there are cameras trained on the two of you, a reporter trying to get your attention maybe, “I’d be better if I was on pole.”

You hiss mockingly, “Yeah, too bad. You gonna break up with me about it?”

He raises an eyebrow, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I didn’t know you read F1 gossip sites?”

You shrug in response, “Don’t need to. The media make enough noise about it.”

He hums again, smile pulling at his mouth while someone from Mercedes shouts at you to get back. Rachel probably. You should go, you really should. But Oscar’s so close and so cute in those black fireproofs.

“Good luck,” you say,

leaning forward to kiss him, hand on the back of his head. A slip of tongue, not so much to be publicly obscene, but enough to leave him wanting,

“You’ll need it.”

You hear the sweet sound of him laughing as you slip away, back to where your car is sitting on pole. Ignoring the reporter dogging at your heels for a comment you don’t really need to give.

like maybe unrealistic. who cares!

#oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:op81 #driver!reader #mercedes!reader

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vifilms · 8 days ago

Text

THE FIRST BITE!

pairing. rugby player!abby x fem!reader x rugby player!vi

the introduction. abby anderson, the co-captain of the legends. the thickest, strongest girl around and she sure does pull like it. then there’s vi, tragically pathetic unable to get a girlfriend vi, a co-captain with some of the past game in the pitch but can’t find any to save her life off the field. or will misfortune of missing keys bring the luck directly to her?

the two have done nothing but compete against each other from the day they were born. abby has been a big girl from a young age, taller than most, it didn’t take much for her to bulk up. her biceps bigger than the largest dumbells in the gym, thighs and legs strong enough to kill a man. it’s what made her a dominant force on the field. she’s a bull you’ll try like hell to doze over, but the task is nearly impossible.

then there’s violet.

she’s not as big or strong, but she’s quick. she relies on it for every match. gliding on the pitch like a leopard. it’s because of her sheer speed that the team has won so frequently. violet is also the painful thorn in abby’s side, why she isn’t the sole captain but co-captains. the best of the best coach sev says, the yin and yang of professional rugby.

abby isn’t too sure of it but she’s in it to win and for that it’s the only reason why a bond is forged between them. the hatred they have for each other becomes kinship, hours on the field bringing out the best in each other only makes them win and win, and fucking win. the surrounding districts wanting to know coach sev’s secret.

it’s friendship.

two weeks from the quarter finals, the pair decides to blow off steam and that’s when the real competition between them thrives. until recently, abby had been happily taken, violet didn’t have to compete with the beefcake. even if she’d never admit it, abby makes her feel insecure. she’s smart, kind, and seriously ripped.

the amount of girls she turns town in one night at the local bar, seraphites, makes her wanna shrivel into a ball until all she feels is the a black hole swallowing her essence whole.

but now abby is single and god, vi will cry into her pillow if another girl she thinks is pretty leaves home with abby.

“don’t feel so bad. most wouldn’t last this long with me around.”

“yeah, i feel so grateful to still be here.”

abby chuckles as she playfully punches at vi’s shoulder.

“i’ll throw you a solid tonight then, the after party after quarter finals, i won’t munch all night and you know how hard that is for me.” abby playfully pouts.

“oh, really? how pitiful. that’s actually worse than competing with you. a sympathy thrown one night stand.”

abby harmlessly puts her hands up, taking a sip from her chilled beer. immediately, the bartender starts chatting up with her and abby starts being abby. it infuriates her how little the broad blonde has to try. she slips into this girl every damn gay girl in town eats up like a midnight snack.

each time, she starts it off slow. easy. throwing a compliment your way, if that bite into the bait, they always touch her hand, her arm, or stroke the vein protruding from her bicep. abby shamelessly flirts until they’re giggling, nearly putty in her hands.

a couple hours later, the two of them are leaving but vi is walking home alone while abby is entering a cab with the breathtaking bartender who’s shift has just conveniently ended.

it’s the only night she’s thankful abby left. it’s then she realizes as she attempts to get in her shared apartment with blondie that she’s keyless and no way to get into her apartment. the office is closed and she is so severely fucked.

vi doesn’t realize that’s she just sitting there like an idiot staring until a stranger’s voice pulls her out of it.

“any luck with your mind warping powers or are you keyless?”

vi jumps at the voice, locking eyes with the most gorgeous person she’s ever seen in her life. it doesn’t help you are wearing the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, cleavage spilling out of your top and she admires the white sheer top you’re wearing.

she feels a tad breathless.

that has nothing to with you.

just her predicament.

totally.

“do you have a roommate to call?”

vi comes to it and she murmurs and soft yeah, trying to not make eye contact with the goddess she somehow has managed to embarrass herself over.

quickly, she dials abby’s number, waiting for her to pick up not, once, not twice, but three times. damn fucker is munching right now, vi swears to herself.

but she didn’t say it to herself, she said it out loud where the girl of dreams is giggling as she speed texts abby, trying to evoke a response from her.

“indisposed and munching?” you ask, you’re smirking and vi is blushing.

“yeah, her favorite extra curricular activity and she does it exceedingly fast.”

“is it yours too?”

shit.

oh my fucking shit.

are you hitting on her?

no. that’s not humanly possible for someone like you to be hitting on someone as tragic as her. vi’s convinced it’s just because abby isn’t here. that’s all. her cockblocking stunner of a best friend isn’t here to make her life sufferable but the way you’re eyeing her up like a hot piece of meat should make her feel slightly objectified if you she wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

“right girl, right munch.”

it’s the dumbest thing vi’s ever said but you laugh. offering her a spot on your couch and she’s eternally grateful for. you even have a pair of shorts and a spare t-shirt that she can sleep in. she’s eternally grateful she doesn’t have to sit outside her apartment alone for god knows how long waiting for abby to be done with her seven course meal.

violet planned to actually sleep but then you play a vinyl record on the turntable and it just so happens to be vi’s favorite and she can’t stop telling about every song on the record. she’s so animated as she talks, her powder hues vibrant as she goes into the lyrics she loves the most, what songs made her cry first listen and the songs that still make her cry to this day.

you’re looking at her the way vi’s always wanted to be look at. before either of you know it, four albums later, it’s nearly four in the morning and you’re leaning in close to her, so much so vi isn’t sure she can even breath. a vibrant pink strand gets twirled around your finger.

“know about all your favorite albums but not a name to the pretty face.”

“violet. or vi. whatever you prefer.” vi struggles to breathe even further as your lips ghost over hers.

“what do you prefer?”

“violet.”

you take a pause, licking your lips, slightly crazing violet’s lips. she looks a like a deer in headlight, terrified to make the first move but you like how shy she is, how she voices the thoughts she isn’t meant to. there’s a sweetness you want to sink your teeth into like cotton candy.

“violet it is then.”

putting her out of her own misery, your soft lips mold with hers and you’re dominant from the start. placing a delicate hand on her throat, claiming her with your tongue as you devour her whole. it’s hot and heavy. the clashing of teeth, the pulls at her pink hair, and violet can’t help but bring you closer to her.

still wearing this insufferably short skirt, vi smooths her touch over your soft thighs beneath the fabric. the two of you getting lost in each other until it’s all abruptly stops. she’s funneling her under the hem of your shirt, playing with the buttons until she absentmindedly plucks one open.

“fuck—” you curse, trying to maintain your compose but violet plucks another button and your perfect tits spill out of the material.

“yeah?” violet smirks, not being nearly as innocent as she appears.

“time to put that extra curricular to use then. let’s see how munch of a munch you can be.”

rayray’s nonsense. UM HI IDEK KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. um. yeah. abby x vi are my favs and i'm forcing this on everyone but i also fuck with it??? idek. this is a crazy midnight kinda post, spur of the moment if you will. gonna try not to get tew in my head 'bout this. that's for future me to deal with BUT ALSO DO WE FUCK WITH IT???? only time will tell. ALRIGHT. let me work on this mega long vi fic i got going on .... byeeeeee ♡

#very lowkey pulling some challengers inspo for things moving forward hehe #dw i'm gonna feed my abby gays after five years #but i'm bringing vi along with it :')#lowkey this just came to me and i word vomited so accept me and my errors #vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi smut #vi x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x fem!reader #vi x female reader #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou

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asceluffy · 1 year ago

Text

OP MEN when they’re in the mood pt. 2

ft. Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, King (not proofread)

Shanks

Little did you know that it’s you who gets him in the mood every single time. It’s not just a “I’m feeling horny and I need release” typa thing.

He gets riled up when he watches you put on your favorite lipstick, when you try on your newly bought clothes and show it to him, when you walk around the ship with his shirt on, and when you sit on his lap.

His brain is quick to conjure up different positions he’ll fuck you in when you sit on his lap.

At first, he’d rub your inner thigh ‘absentmindedly,’ and when you shift on his leg, that’s when he’ll go further.

With a mug of beer in his other hand and half his attention on his crewmates, his fingers slowly dance their way up your leg until he stops just when he’s near your panties.

While he chats with his members he’ll toy with the garter of your underwear, tugging it at first before he snakes his hand inside just to feel the skin near your pussy.

And when you squirm, he’ll lean near your ear, face flushed with words a little slurred.

“Once they all get wasted and pass out I’m gonna fuck you on my bed, yeah?”

Mihawk

Mihawk is the type of person to plan things before it happens.

He’d feel the need to feel the warmth of your pussy as it clenches on his thick cock, but when he sees you busy he’d patiently wait until your schedule is free.

He’d set up a romantic candlelit dinner, cooking you steak and pouring you the finest wine in his collection.

He’d let out a small, ‘nonchalant’ smile when you compliment his cooking, all while holding himself back from pining you on the table and taking you then and there.

On the middle of the dinner, he’d casually say, “Let’s have sex.” which will lead you to choke on your food.

“After dinner,” You’d say, and in his mind he’s already celebrating.

When you two finish, he’ll ask you to take his hand and lead you to the bedroom, gasping when you see rose petals scattered inside and lovely music playing from his vintage record player.

Katakuri

He’s mostly shy around you, being his first girlfriend and all.

Some people may think that he acts coldly towards you, but it’s only you who truly knows why he acts that way.

You’d know he’s in the mood when he acts cranky and touchy.

He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, fiddle with your fingers, compare hand sizes, and glare at anyone who dares speak to you or even breathe your way.

But when he’s really in the mood, his subtle touches will level up.

He’d rub your inner thighs, fondle your breasts, lightly squeeze your butt.

You’d notice how his breath gets heavier and how his pupils dilate when you get near him.

You’ll notice him staring at you the whole day without saying a damn word, and when you notice these signs you’ll chuckle and pull him into a passionate kiss.

King

King is a busy man, working under Kaido means he has to do things almost 24/7.

The only time you’d spend with him is when’s sent on expeditions, which rarely happens because he’s always glued beside Kaido.

Or, when he just finished a battle.

While his whole system is still pumping with adrenaline from a recent battle, the only reason for him to calm down is to sink into your tight cunt.

When he sees you after he just won a fight, all his pent up energy will shoot straight down his dick.

He’s a man of few words, and once he has you pinned against the wall, you know what will happen next.

“Fuck, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Open your pretty legs for me so I can show you how much I missed you.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece smut #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the wildfire x reader #king x reader #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri #akagami no shanks #dracule mihawk

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amirasainz · 2 months ago

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Hey could I request one where mini alonso meets the wags and takes a liking to Alexandra and lily zneimer.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Princess Make-Up

The paddock was alive with the familiar hum of engines, chatter, and clinking coffee cups, but today, something — or rather someone — was stealing the spotlight. Three-year-old Yn Alonso, sporting a pair of sparkly play high heels, oversized sunglasses, and a mini Disney handbag, strutted alongside her father, Fernando, with all the confidence of a seasoned model. The F1 paddock, usually reserved for roaring engines and serious faces, had suddenly transformed into her personal runway.

Fernando chuckled as he watched his little girl prance with exaggerated steps, clearly relishing in the attention. "Where did you learn to walk like that, mi princesa?" he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Yn pushed her sunglasses up her nose with a dramatic flair, barely glancing back at her father. "Papá, I'm busy. I need to get to my fans," she replied, her voice full of sass as she twirled around, causing a few members of the pit crew to chuckle.

As they made their way through the paddock, they encountered several drivers lounging around. Oscar, Lando, and Carlos were chatting near McLaren’s hospitality area when they spotted the duo.

"Well, well, who’s this little superstar?" Carlos grinned, kneeling down to Yn's level. "Can I get an autograph?"

Yn looked at him over the rim of her sunglasses, one eyebrow raised in an unintentional imitation of her father. "Hmmm, maybe later," she said nonchalantly, waving her tiny hand. "I’m busy right now."

Lando laughed. "I think you’ve been dethroned, Fernando. She’s got more attitude than half the drivers here."

Fernando took a sip of his espresso, an amused smirk on his face. "Oh, trust me, I know."

Just then, Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend, walked over, giving Yn a warm smile. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little princess I’ve ever seen?”

Yn's face lit up. "Princess?" she gasped, her eyes widening as she took in Lily’s perfect hair and stylish outfit. She tugged on her father's sleeve excitedly. "Papá, she’s a princess!"

Lily crouched down, her eyes softening. “Of course I am. But I think you’re the real princess here.” She held out her hand, and Yn immediately placed her tiny hand in it, looking up at her in awe.

Yn took a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We could be princesses together," she proposed, as if revealing a grand secret.

Lily laughed, absolutely charmed. "Oh, I would love that."

Seeing his daughter’s pure delight, Fernando couldn’t help but chuckle. He leaned back, sipping his espresso with a relaxed smile. He hadn’t seen Yn this animated around anyone besides him.

As they continued their little princess chat, Yn noticed Lily had a compact mirror out, carefully touching up her lipstick. Intrigued, Yn dug into her tiny handbag and pulled out her wooden play makeup set, the pieces worn but clearly loved. She opened a pretend lipstick and began mimicking Lily’s movements with utter seriousness.

“Oh my gosh, is that your makeup set?” Lily asked, amused.

Yn nodded proudly. "Yup! This is my special makeup. It’s got sparkles," she explained, applying her invisible lipstick with practiced precision. "Do you like it?"

“I love it,” Lily assured her, applying her real lipstick while Yn kept at her imaginary one. The two of them giggled and compared "lipstick" shades, drawing quite the audience.

Lando crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with a look of fake jealousy. “What happened? I used to be Yn’s favorite,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

Oscar nudged him. “Mate, you’ve been replaced. Look at them — they’re a royal duo now.”

Carlos shook his head, sighing. "This is hard to watch," he said with a grin. "I don’t think we’ll ever be able to compete."

Fernando watched, a smirk playing on his lips as he listened to the drivers' banter. "I guess you boys just don’t have what it takes," he said, chuckling.

Lily, noticing the crowd, gave Yn an encouraging look. “Should we show everyone our princess wave?”

Yn, always up for a new challenge, nodded. Together, they held their hands up in that classic royal wave, greeting the imaginary crowds. The drivers chuckled and applauded, while Yn, clearly delighted by the attention, curtsied as best as she could in her little heels.

After a while, Yn seemed to remember something very important. She ran over to her father, practically leaping into his arms. “Papá! Can Lily come with us forever?” she asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Fernando raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. "Forever, hmm? Well, princesa, that might be a bit tricky. Lily has to stay with Oscar, remember?"

Yn looked over at Oscar, clearly considering this dilemma. She furrowed her little brow. "Hmm. Oscar can come too, I guess."

The entire group burst into laughter, with Oscar raising his hands in mock surrender. "Well, I don’t mind being part of the Alonso crew,” he said with a grin.

Lily smiled, patting Yn’s shoulder. “How about I come visit you as often as I can, okay?”

Yn nodded happily, seeming satisfied with this arrangement. She grabbed Lily’s hand and led her back to their “makeup session” while the drivers continued to watch, each one more smitten with Yn than the next.

Fernando took another sip of his espresso, a soft smile on his face. "Better get used to it, boys. She’s got the Alonso charm."

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jarofstyles · 9 days ago

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Pierced

Hi my ducklings! So this is part 2 of Pierced Through The Heart but it can be read as a standalone! I'm sorry it took me so long I've been hella depressed lol. I hope you lover her!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 220+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- mention of needles, piercing is done/described, oral sex

“Alright… So tell me honestly. No bullshit. How badly does this hurt?” Swinging her legs on the bench, she watched her boyfriend gather what he needed for the piercings.

After becoming his official girlfriend- which hadn’t taken very long- she was quick to cash in on her free piercing promise. The first had been a cartilage piercing, but this was definitely a bigger decision.

Her nipples.

Harry looked up from his preparations, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the hidden nervousness in her eyes. She liked to play tough but he knew how she was. He didn’t tease her about it too much, but he knew. “It really depends. I’ve had a lot of people who say it doesn’t hurt nearly at all, some who say it does, but only a few who have passed out from it. But I’ll make it quick, promise. And afterwards, you’ll have something beautiful to show for it.”

“I mean, I think I’ve got a good pain tolerance.”

The shop was closed for the day, leaving only Harry and Y/N in the place. It was quieter than she would have imagined, only the noise of their chatting and the soft music on the radio in the back. It had been louder when she came to get her cartilage done when she had brought lunch for both of them a few weeks back. “Hey. wait.” Her brow raised. “Have you ever fucked a customer?”

“Well fuck, come right out with it then.” Harry chuckled at the sudden change in topic, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Her lack of filter was something he did like about her though. “No, love, can’t say I have.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall next to her.

He reached out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers gently tracing along her jawline. “But I have to say, the idea of fucking a customer who sits on this very bench, getting pierced by my hands, is a pretty tempting one.”

Y/N felt her face heat, his blatant flirtation still getting to her and making her feel giddy. Once the confession had been made, he had fallen completely into loverboy mode- with a libido that she heavily enjoyed the benefits of. “Hm.” It pleased her that he hadn’t had anyone here. She would have been jealous… but knowing he was flirting with the idea of doing it with her? That was a welcomed answer. “Maybe if you’re good and be nice to me when you pierce my tits, I’ll consider it.”

He was always oh, so nice to her. He worshipped her, really. It was insane, actually, sometimes making her wonder if her previous lovers actually liked her at all because the way Harry treated her seemed so genuine and second nature and yet so enamored that she was shocked. The smirk on his lips as he placed the sanitized packaging down on the table beside them made her tummy flip. “Oh, love, I promise I’ll be extra gentle when I pierce those perky little nipples of yours. They’re my favorite too, y’know.”

“Mmm.” She pursed her lips to hold back a. grin. “You better. I’m delicate, you know.”

Harry chuckled lightly, moving away from her ear and looking into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup her chin, gazing at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at in this whole world. She sorta was. “Alright, delicate flower. Take that top off and let me see those tits.”

Y/N couldn’t help her laugh, shaking her head as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Harry was the professional here, so he had given her the rundown on how it was going to work- including the fact that he couldn’t play with them for a while after to make sure they healed properly. He had mourned that but quickly got over it when he imagined her, audibly, having them pierced. Theh would suit her incredibly well.

“I’m still sad you’ll have to keep your mouth off of them for a while.” She pouted, opening her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “What a shame.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her, finding her cute when she pouted—he wanted to kiss that pout, but could stop himself from doing so. He stared at her bare breasts longingly, nodding at what she had said. "I know, it is a shame. I’ll get back to it soon enough, though."

Reaching out, he gently took one of her nipples between his fingers, giving it a soft pinch before letting go and reaching for the other. He did the same, his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds as he admired them. "Fuck, they really are perfect. I'm going to love piercing these."

The touch had her squeezing her legs together. While it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to remember that her boyfriend had his hands on plenty other breasts when he had to pierce them, she assumed he wasn’t as liberal with the touching as he was now. “God, that feels nice.” She whispered, letting the shirt fall off her shoulders.

Harry's gaze darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He realized he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it—she was just too captivating. "Yeah?" He smirked at her, letting go of her nipples before reaching up to play with her breasts in their entirety. He lifted them, feeling their weight in his hands, gently massaging with his fingers. He couldn't wait to do the same with the barbells in them.

“H….” Y/N’s voice was scolding but barely so, breathy as she leaned her head back and watched as he held them in his palms. His big fucking hands that felt so good whenever he touched her. “You’re being dirty… I hope you aren’t like this with your paying clients.” She teased.

Letting out a laugh, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he teased them. "Oh, M’always the most professional with my clients. But with you...I can't help myself." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm on her skin as he added "You're the only one I can be dirty with, Y/N. The only one I can touch however I want, say whatever I want. And right now, I want to bury my face between your tits and not come up for air."

“D’you think you should?” She whispered. “You know… Cause you’re not gonna be able to for a while while they’re healing… feel kinda bad that your favorite toys are gonna be for looking and no touching.”

"I do think about it, believe me. I fucking hate that they'll be out of bounds for a while." He nuzzled into her neck, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss to the skin. "But at the same time, I'm fucking thrilled to get to see these beauties every day, even if it means no touching."

“You are insane.” She widened her thighs for him to stand between her legs. “Luckily, I like it. So I give you permission to suck on them a little bit… one last taste for a bit.”

Harry's eyes lit up, and he didn't waste a moment in moving to comply with her request. He leaned forward, capturing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking gently. He could feel her arching into him, moaning softly as he teased the sensitive flesh.

Y/N let out a soft moan, the cool metal of his tongue piercing brushing against the pebbled nipple. his large hand held her breast in his hand, keeping it where he wanted as she leaned back on her hand, giving him access to her chest. “God, that piercing is the best thing you’ve done to yourself.” His tongue was the best one.

Harry chuckled softly against her skin, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He was relishing in this moment, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. "I knew you'd like it." he murmured, his words vibrating through her breast.

Holding it still, giving his tongue free reign to tease the the sensitive skin. He could feel her heart beating faster under his touch, her breath hitching as he played with her. It was so lovely that his pleasure in giving was just as appreciated in receiving.

To Y/N, every movement of Harry's tongue sent sparks shooting directly to her cunt. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was concentrated on the tips of her tits, and the cool metal only heightened the sensation. With gentle yet firm sucks and teasing licks, he had her sensitive nipples hardened and tingling, the sensation making her arch into his face. One hand held the back of his neck, her own head falling back as he switched back to the other nipple.

“Jesus…” She laughed breathlessly as his teeth grazed the swollen skin. “Careful, baby. You’ve still got t’pierce it. Don’t make me too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled against her skin, pulling back slightly. "You think m’new at this? I know my girl’s tits, baby." He said, smirking as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know just how far to push it."

“Mhm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, reaching up to wipe some of his spit from the corner of his mouth. It was shocking how dirty he could get, considering how clean every other part of his life was. “Let’s go then. I gave you your time. I want my nipples pierced.”

Adjusting his position, albeit with a slight pout, he reached for the tray of sterilized needles and other equipment to get it all ready. He didn’t forget the main objective. "Yes ma'am, we’ll get right to it." He sighed, playfully saluting her.

It took little time before she had Harry carefully cleaning her nipples with a medicated wipe, making sure every inch of skin was prepped for the piercing. He then applied a small amount of numbing gel to minimize any discomfort, massaging it into her nipples with gentle fingers. He tried to innocently say it was to help it work better but she only had to give him a look before he let it be.

“Alright, darlin’. Gonna be just like how I told you, okay?” Giving her a reassuring smile, he settled in front of her. “S’gonna pinch, but it’ll be over quickly. When I start to do it, let out and breat through your nose.” Harry's hands were steady as he picked up the needle, focusing on her left nipple first. He pinched the skin lightly with a sterile clamp, ensuring that her piercing would be straight and perfect. He then aligned the needle, giving her the instruction to give her exhale before pushing it quickly through her skin.

She winced slightly as the needle pierced her skin, but Harry was right there to soothe her. He quickly attached the short piece of jewelry and moved to her other nipple, repeating the process. This time around, she knew what to expect and took it better than before.

Her agony lasted just a moment, but he didn't feel right about letting her endure pain alone. Once her nipples were pierced and the jewelry sturdily in place, he was thorough, making sure everything was clean and sanitary before removing his gloves and gripping her chin and placing a soft peck to her lips. “You, lovely, took that better than most people I’ve ever pierced.” His words were genuine. Y/N really had taken it better than grown men had.

“Really?” Her eyes had teared up a bit during the process and yeah- it had hurt.. But it was tolerable enough. She could feel it throbbing as the new piercings adjusted, Harry helping her pull her shirt back on. He had taken the liberty to button her top back, making her grin at how second nature it was for him. Harry liked to take care of her in any way, she was finding out more and more each day.

His thumb stroked over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, letting out a little hum. "Yeah, honestly, you did amazing. I'm proud of you. Fuck, I bet you're a beautiful crier, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she caressed his jaw. The beard was growing in and she loved how it felt under her fingers as she ran them over his face. “You tell me everything I do is beautiful. I think you’re biased.”

Harry's heart warmed as she caressed his jaw. He fucking loved the feeling of her fingers against him. It had become second nature now for her to touch as she pleased and he couldn’t get enough of it. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling her hand with his cheek before pulling it down to kiss her knuckles. "Yeah, m’totally fucking biased, but why the hell wouldn't I be?" He smirked down at her, stilling her hands and placing them both around the back of his neck before stealing another kiss. "I think you're beautiful, amazing, fuckin’ hilarious, smart as hell… sexy.” He smirked, making her scoff. “No, none of that. I mean every word.” Cradling her cheek, he took a moment to look at her before his eyes drifted down to his now covered work on her tits. “And M’more than honored that now a piece of my work is on your body.”

He watched as she looked down at her covered chest, he could tell she was admiring the work even while covered. "How do you feel?" He inquired lightly.

“I’m good.” It wasn’t really a pain now more than a soreness. But what she hadn’t expected was how it had… sort of turned her on. That pain and the reminder of it made her wake in a different way. Sure, they’d fucked around a bit and he had spanked her and stuff, but this sort of pain was different. Add in the fact that he had said in a fuck drunk lusty spiel against her ear the night before that he was horny over being the one to give her the piercing because it would feel like another claim to her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So naturally, it was time to do something about it.

“I think you did a good job… so I think it’s time for your tip.” A mischievous smirk lit up her lips as she slowly slid to the floor from the bench, knees on the tile as she reached for his belt.

"Fuck, baby." Harry couldn't help but groan at her words, his hands finding her hair as she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she began to work on his belt, he felt his cock jerk to attention and he held his breath. “You don’t have t’do that, baby. I… I didn’t do it for you t’suck me.”

“I know.” Her warm hand ran over his cock, feeling it twitch up against her palm. “That’s partially why I wanna.” It was easy work getting his belt off, leaning in and kissing his cock over his jeans. “Is this an acceptable tip?”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back on the counter, his fingers slowly carding through her hair. "Y/N…" he groaned out, his hips moving forward when she mouthed at his erection over the denim. "…yeah, that's an… s’an acceptable tip. Only for you."

Harry's lips parted as he felt her teeth gently skim over the length of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck, don’t…" Harry's hands tightened in her hair, his head falling back against the counter as she continued to mouth at his dick through his jeans. "Y/N, stop, please... I don't wanna cum like this. Want your mouth."

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at how heavily it effected him. “What about this has you all worked up, baby? I’ve barely touched you…”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat as she speaks, his heart racing in his chest. He looks down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "It's because you're being so fucking gentle with me." His voice strained as she ran her finger over the waistline of uis jeans. Something about how she treated him, especially when she got that teasing look on her face, got him all riled up.

“Hm… you like me being all gentle, then?” Looking up at him through her lashes, she gently lifted her other hand under his shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his abdomen. “You like when m’nice and sweet to you?”

Harry shuddered at the feeling of her nails scraping against his skin, a low moan rising in his throat. "Fuck, yeah," he gasped out, fingers taking root in her hair. "I love when you're sweet to me… S’nice having such a sweet girl all for me."

“You’re so hot, H.” She grinned, fingers clasping on his button and slowly dragging down his zipper. “I love that you like that about me. Promise I’ll make this good.” his briefs had a wet patch from his cock leaking, her finger tracing over his twitching length. “Wanna be in my mouth?”

Harry's breath hitches as she speaks, his hips jerking forward as her finger traces over his leaking head. "Yes," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to be in your mouth so fucking bad, m’baby..." He looks down at her, his eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N... just give me somethin’." His hands are tightened slightly in her hair, his body thrumming with need.

Sharp jaw clenched, his body tensed as she slowly licked along the base of his shaft, lapping up the bead of moisture at the tip. He watches her, his eyes dark with desire, his voice ragged as he mumbled her name again, pulling her further in. Seeing him slightly desperate really did it for her- so she decided to give it to him. Slowly sucking the tip into her mouth, her tongue lapped over the leaking slit before she let herself sink down a little, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ sound. “Like that?”

Harry groaned, his head falling back as she started to suck on the tip. "Yes, jus’ like that, baby. Suck me right into that perfect mouth.” Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slowly took him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Seeing her lips stretched around his girth made him throb harder, his eyes nearly rolling back from the sensation. "That's it, sweetheart. Can I give you some more?"

Before she took him in deeper she nodded, letting Harry's hands find their place in her hair. Holding her in place as he started to thrust gently, his cock slid in and out of her mouth with a sinfully wet sound that had him reeling. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, his perfect vision as he watched his cock disappear between those perfect lips over and over.

Y/N looked like a fucking wet dream. Her lips were plump and stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. Her eyes were half closed as she focused on him, her brows furrowed in concentration as she took him deeper. A string of spittle connected the tip of his cock to her lips for a moment as she pulled back before plunging back down, her nose nuzzling into the groomed thatch of hair on his groin. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, a blush rising on her cheeks as she continued to pleasure him, letting him lead.

When she took him all the way down, Harry threw his head back and let out a low moan. He felt her gag slightly, her lips brushing against his balls as she tried to take every inch of him. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good. Knew you could do it. Tha’s my fucking girl." The guttural groan had her whimpering around him, teary eyes opening a little more to look up at him. It was one of her favorite parts about giving head- getting to see his pretty face contorted with pleasure that she was providing.

Harry's thighs shook a little as she sucked him messily, her tongue working him over with each bob of her head. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Shit, sweetheart. M’gonna cum soon if you don't stop." Y/N was talented at giving head, better than anyone he had been with, and it was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because… obviously. A curse, because he didn’t last as long as he wanted to. He wanted to savor every bit of it.

Harry felt his balls tightening, signaling that he was about to come. He didn't want it to end so soon, but Y/N was just too good at what she did for him. He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "Goddammit, angel."

She moaned as he kissed her, hand falling down to his spot soaked cock and stroking it in her palm. The wet click of her strokes meddled with their kissing, making her even more eager to finish him off. “It’s okay, baby.” She breathed against his mouth. “Don’t care if it’s quick. Just like making you feel good. I love how you feel in my mouth. Can’t get enough of you. Jus’ let me go back and suck you more, want you to finish in my mouth.”

Harry's breathing quickened at her words. "Shit. If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna fucking cum right now." He closed his eyes as she dropped back to her knees. It was only natural as she went back to sucking him, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as she gave tight strokes.

He really, really couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as Y/N went back to sucking him. Her tongue worked its magic on his tip before she took him in as deep as she could, swallowing around him to make him hiss. He felt her hand moving in time with her mouth, creating a perfect rhythm.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt Y/N's warm lips delve down for a moment, licking over his sac before returning to his cock. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long, the feeling building in his balls. Grabbing onto her already messy hair, he pulled her closer. "Fuck, baby." He could feel his orgasm building, the feeling spreading from his balls and up his shaft. "Ah, fuck, Baby..” he whined, gritting his teeth. “M’gonna cum, keep fuckin’ doing that. My perfect girl, always make me feel so good. Filthy little thing getting on your knees for me after I pierce your tits. God, m’so obsessed with you." He was babbling a bit, but he couldn’t help it. It truly felt so good that he could pass out given the chance.

Y/N could hear the desperation in Harry's voice, knew he was close. She loved giving him this kind of pleasure, the kind that made him lose it a little bit. Ever since their first time he had no qualms about showing her how much he adored her while she did this, and it only got better with time. As weird as it may seem, she really loved making him feel good, the weight of him in her mouth- but she wanted to finish him. She picked up her pace and used her free hand to fondle his balls.

"Fuuuck..." Harry hissed, his breath hitching as Y/N added that in, making him lose it. It was too much, too fucking much and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan, he came. It orgasm hit him hard and fast, his cock pulsing against her tongue as he released his load into her warm and waiting mouth. He tried his best to warn her, but he couldn't form words as he rode out his high. Y/N continued to suck him off as he came hard, milking the last of his orgasm out. She swallowed everything, looking up at him with a hum of satisfaction. Harry was utterly spent, and all that could leave his lips was a shaky grunt of her name.

That was the only thing she wanted to hear when he felt good.

Pulling off of him, a string of spit hung between her lips and the tip of his cock as she smiled up at him, utterly pleased with herself. Getting Harry to cum like that was a privilege, one that she was lucky enough to be the only one to do.

Letting out a laugh in disbelief, he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair and pulled her up to meet his lips in a deep, messy kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and tongue, only adding to his post-orgasm haze. He held her there, kissing her sloppily as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me, that was incredible.” He mumbled into the kiss. “Can barely feel my fuckin’ feet.”

“Good.” Her smile was giddy as she pulled back to wipe her mouth, giving him her most innocent smile. “Hope you enjoyed your tip, baby. If I ever find out someone else did the same, I’ll kill them.” She said in an overly sweet tone.

He chuckled, pulling her close again, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. As if he’d ever need anyone else with the way she made him feel. "Only you do it for me, babe."

“Damn right.” She grumbled, pulling back and wiping her mouth. “Now that payment has been approved… I think I need you to feed me actual food, please.”

Still slightly reeling, he hummed, rubbing his hand over his messy hair as he watched her walk off to grab her coat. "Fine, fine. Let's get some food. Can’t let my number one client starve.”

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