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ynbabe · 2 days

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Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

Charles:

"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.

You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.

Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.

You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.

Carlos:

"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.

Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.

"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.

You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.

He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Lando:

It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.

There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.

You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.

Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.

"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.

Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.

Oscar:

There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.

Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.

Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.

"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.

"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.

"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.

"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.

George:

George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.

You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.

"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.

"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.

Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.

“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.

“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.

You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.

“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.

Lewis

Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.

But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.

So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.

He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.

You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.

"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.

Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)

"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.

“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”

You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.

“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.

You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.

“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.

“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.

That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.

PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.

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dyns33 · 2 days

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Only wastelands part 2

Here's part 2 of my Cooper Howard x Reader ! I think it will be a story in 4 parts at the end, but I'm not sure yet.

Tags : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25

If Y/N had to pay Cooper one compliment, it was that he had been a very good teacher.

Months passed, years, and she survived the apocalypse perfectly on her own.

To avoid trouble, she hid her pitboy and her gender under a large coat and a Ranger mask. Some people made fun of her, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from radiation. Everyone knew that West Tek's hardware, or any of Vault's partners, was crap.

Y/N knew it, and that was why she always had Radaway on her. Not at all in case she saw Cooper again and he needed some.

Three years without any news, doing everything to avoid attracting attention, and she hardly thought about him at all.

If she sometimes looked at the photo of him before his turning, with little Janey, it was only to remember that she should trust no one in this rotten world. Never again, she repeated to herself.

It was with this spirit that she almost killed Lucy when the young woman fell on her. Literally.

Y/N was standing in a crater, calm, silent, holding her sniper tightly, ready to shoot her future dinner, when the little vaultie had jumped to escape a yao guai.

Her instinct not being often wrong, she knew that it was more urgent to kill the bear than the imbecile who had thought that surprising a shooter was less dangerous than confronting a beast.

Even though she had a gun, was covered in blood, and one of her fingers was a different color, little Vault dweler looked harmless with her big, naive doe eyes.

It was obvious that she had been outside for a short time. A true miracle that she is still alive.

"Thank you, thank you very much !" she repeated with a huge smile, as if Y/N wasn't pointing her sniper at her. "You don't know the week I just had ! My father was kidnapped, I wanted to save him, but I discovered that he was a murderer who had bombed a city, and all the people I met tried to kill me, and…"

"Hey. I don't remember asking you to tell me about your life, vaultie."

"Oh, sorry ! It's just that I got lost. I was with someone heading to a place called New Vegas, but a big monster pulled him into a hole, then this thing attacked me. You seem nice, and I could use some help…"

"No."

“Wait. But wait !” the girl begged, following her as she went to carve the yao guai. Not the best meat, but she had just wasted five bullets for that, and the noise had either scared away the easy preys or attracted the attention of the dangerous ones.

Y/N vacillated between ignoring Lucy and threatening her, asking her to leave, but after exchanging names, the vaultie seemed to have decided that they were now best friends and should stay together.

No doubt taking her savior's silence as an invitation, she continued to talk about what had happened to her, between her meeting with a man named Maximus, and the inhumane treatment she had suffered at the hands of a mercenary.

Completely incoherent, she ended her story by explaining that she had abandoned her potential boyfriend to go on an adventure next to the guy who tortured her, with the aim of finding her dad and discovering who had destroyed the entire planet.

It was quite funny, because Lucy reminded her a bit of herself before. Y/N wondered if Cooper had seen her like that when they met, a lost and stupid thing.

At the same time, the girl's reasons for living were the same as the Ghoul. Find a family member and take revenge on Vault. Amusing. Maybe they would be very happy together.

If we forgot the fact that Lucy thought that no one should be killed, that everyone was nice, and mutual help was a fundamental notion, to start again. Ugh.

"So, some free advice, if you want to avoid having your tongue cut out, remember that it is not a good idea for a little vaultie who grew up in a palace to give big moral lessons to people who have been doing what they can to avoid dying for years, sometimes centuries."

"Why do you call me that ? You come from a vault too, right ? My pitboy picked up yours."

"Hang on. I am a victim of the cruelty of politicians and businessmen, betrayed by my own country and only alive by luck, or bad luck. You are a little vaultie. Now get away before I strangle you."

Lucy continued to follow her. And Y/N could have killed her, she really could have. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had killed a lot of people for less than that. But she didn't really want to.

Maybe she had been alone for too long. Maybe she felt sorry for this girl, like Cooper had felt sorry for her.

A deal was found. If Lucy could keep her mouth shut, then Y/N would help her find her friends so she could resume her main quest. Their paths would then part ways, and everyone would be happy.

Especially Y/N.

Because if she often talked about her dear Max, the little vaultie didn't seem so eager to find her survival partner. This was understandable, since he had tried to kill her several times, shooting her, cutting off her finger, using her as bait, and selling her.

Compared to this guy, Y/N was a saint, an angel from heaven, the perfect friend. When she offered the girl a bottle of non-irradiated water, she seemed about to ask her to marry her.

“You must be the only person in all the wastelands with good water !”

"It doesn't come cheap. But… I made a promise."

“My lovely traveling companion forced me to drink disgusting water and eat a man.”

"Charming."

Even though she seemed sweet and pure, Y/N continued to be wary of Lucy, sleeping with only one eye open and waiting for the moment when she would try to stab her in the back. First rule, don't trust anyone.

It had happened before. Never again.

Even after three years, the wound was still raw.

It was only when she saw the fear and regret in Lucy's eyes that Y/N restrained her action, yet ready to plant her blade the moment she had shown her the photo, taken out of her bag, asking her if it was her family.

Cooper hadn't been her family. He had been an asshole, who had manipulated her, who had made her believe that he loved her, and that she could love him, before abandoning her like a dog on the side of the road.

"Be careful with this Maximus. Men never change. He will take what he wants from you, and you will be hurt."

“He’s not like that.”

"I didn't think Coop was like that !" she shouted, really getting angry for the first time at Lucy, who jumped. "Yes, I loved him ! I trusted him ! It was stupid of me and I will never make that mistake again ! I hope he died in a hole, alone and in pain !"

"… Can I throw the photo away then ?"

“Give that back !” Y/N said quickly, snatching the only souvenir he had left from her hands and putting it safely in her pocket.

Lucy's sad smile indicated that she wouldn't have destroyed the photo. How sorry she was, for having gone through her things, and for having caused her pain by forcing her to talk about this man who had been so important. Also that she was happy, to see that despite her speeches, Y/N still cared for someone, even if she didn't want to.

She had never told anyone about it. It had been a long time since she had said his name, except when she woke up from a nightmare, in the middle of nowhere, calling for him like a child.

Lucy continued to smile, because for her, there must be another explanation for her precious Coop's behavior. She continued to call him Coop, even after Y/N threatened to make her eat her rotten finger.

"I know you don't like talking about him…"

“If you know that, shut up.” Y/N muttered as she continued walking towards New Vegas, trying to ignore the stream of words from the stupid vaultie, bingeing on romance novels and patriotic films.

"From the few things you agreed to share, Coop cared about you. He protected you, he taught you to defend yourself, he gave you a picture of his daughter. For me, this are proofs of love. Actions speak louder than words."

“He promised to come get me and I’m still waiting.”

"Wrong ! You left, you know how to hide perfectly, and you do everything to avoid him ! So, maybe he's been chasing you all this time and you don't know."

"What I do know is that the main clause of our deal was that you would stop talking so much, especially if it was to give such ridiculous and inappropriate advices."

They finally arrived at their destination after several weeks of walking. No sign of Lucy's friend on the way though. Perhaps he had died, or had not continued on his own.

It was clear that he wanted to use the daughter of vault 33 overseer to achieve his ends, and now that he had lost her, there was no point.

The city amazed the girl. It was the first real city she discovered, instead of those piles of ruins full of dust and vermin that were found in the four corners of the wastelands.

Her enthusiasm almost made Y/N laugh. A bit like how she had often made Cooper laugh without meaning to.

Damn, she needed to stop thinking about that bastard so often. Her mother was always saying that we manifest things through emotions and thoughts.

Her poor mother, long dead, but who had always been right.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, Y/N was crouched behind a wooden crate, watching Cooper Howard, fucking Cooper Howard, sitting near the casino, seemingly waiting for someone.

Seeing her, Lucy began to ask her what she was doing, her gaze following hers, and then the reaction was strange. Everything about this girl was strange anyway.

She started to smile.

Worse, she waved an arm at the Ghoul in greeting, opening her mouth to get his attention as she realized it wasn't enough, his cowboy hat falling over his face.

Y/N quickly grabbed her arm to pull her towards her, asking her what she was playing.

"It's the mean bounty hunter who accompanies me !" she replied happily, as if everything was normal.

For a moment, Y/N wondered if Lucy was making fun of her. If from the start, this was just a horrible joke against her, the continuation of a torture started in this seedy bar.

Then she told herself that if someone made fun of her, it was just fate.

Because she remembered that she had only described Cooper, continuing not to have any particular interest in his condition as a ghoul, and with her goodness as a jug, Lucy had not wanted to reduce him to his appearance either.

The difference was that he didn't give his name to his new pet.

“I knew you were an idiot, but not that much.”

"What ? Why ?" Lucy wondered, slightly offended and trying to free herself.

"You can't trust him. You already know that, why do you want to go back with him ? Look… I can help you find your father, okay ? Find Max. Whatever you want, but let's avoid this bastard and let's leave quickly."

"Golden rule. We said we would wait near the casino, he's there, I'm not leaving him."

With this serious look, the vault dweler would almost have looked frightening. Almost. It was mainly because it was obvious that it was impossible to reason with her that Y/N let her go, not waiting for her tirade about great friendship and the need to stay together to run as far as possible.

If Cooper noticed them, she didn't give him time to really see her, nor to catch up with her or shoot her.

Y/N didn’t turn around to check. Not because she was afraid of him chasing her. But because she was afraid that not only would he not pursue her, but she would also see him with Lucy.

Because even though he had tortured her, insulted her, threatened her… He was in front of the fucking casino waiting for this girl. And it really hurt.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #lucy maclean

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agmapansa3008 · 2 years

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There’s many things I want from VegasPete, but one of the most prominent monkey-brain moments was my initial thought of: (NSFW following)

Edging.

The best combination of torture and sex.

I want Vegas to edge Pete for hours, get him to the brink again and again and again until Pete is sobbing. Eat him out, blow him, fuck his mouth, use toys, everything. And when Pete is an absolute begging mess, I want Vegas to fuck him sloppy but forbid Pete to touch himself. Pete is either coming on Vegas’ dick or Vegas pulls out and finishes them both off in one hand, but absolutely not before that.

#i don't often share my filthy ideas #but this one is just too ingrained into my brain #just edging + vegaspete #the perfect fucking combination #pete will probably pass out again #and then he will beg vegas to do it again #okay that's it #that's the post #sorry about that #vegaspete #darawrites #keeping it in the vegaspete tag

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leedongwook · 2 years

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Vegas is not gonna die, y’all shut the fuck up.

#if he dies I’ll never rewatch the show again #I’m lying I will rewatch Vegas scenes over and over again to torture my hurt heart #but no seriously #HE IS NOT ALLOWED TO DIE #Bible just started his acting career he’s too good that BOC would let him go #also no kidding Vegas is the most popular character on the show #I’m begging the writers to not take him away from me #hurt him let him suffer let him be evil and sick #BUT DO NOT TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME #PLEASE NO #ok I’m having a full blown crisis now #😭😭#kinnporsche #VegasPete

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satorena · 3 months

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❝ BRAT TAMING (GONE WRONG) ! ❞

☆ featuring. sukuna ryomen.

☆ warnings. explicit content (mdni), foul language, impact play, spanking, double penetration, edging, biting, masochism undertones, degrading, daddy kink, thigh riding, delayed orgasm, degradation (sukuna calls you mean names), belly bulge, afab!reader.

☆ rena's note. vegas told me to post again before the month ends…

you were a force to be reckoned with, and sukuna ryomen had absolutely no idea what to do with you.

for starters, you had a smart mouth on you. he’d call you a brat consistently, and you never seemed to prove him otherwise. always starting arguments over petty matters, having random tantrums over lack of attention– as if he wasn’t busy enough being the king of fucking curses– and opting for silent treatment whenever he failed to play mind reader.

over a course of time, he noticed you did most of these things because you were a slut. at the end of the day, the end goal behind your childish episodes was simply to gain his attention. you loved to piss him off and make him lose his patience, because you knew he’d snap and pin your knees to your ears, pounding ruthlessly into you until you begged him to stop.

only. . . you wouldn’t. you don’t ever beg him to stop– in fact, you encourage him to discipline you further, getting off on the brutality he inflicts on you.

you were a fucking freak, and sukuna had no idea how to handle you.

“what are ya– fuckin’ stupid?” he sneers, a rough pair of hands gripping at the flesh of your hips as he pounds into your holes. you squeeze him tightly, both your cunt and ass, all greedily as if you depended off his dick to breathe.

you moan lewdly in response, your hands groping your tits as you tighten your ankles around his neck. tears stream down your cheeks, eyes all dazed and misty, and drool leaks past your parted lips. you were snivelling, onto your fifth orgasm of the night, and yet, no matter the position or pace he set, he failed to shake the dopey smile on your face.

with one hand wrapped tightly around your neck, he grips at the column, fingernails lightly tearing the thin skin and drawing blood, “i fuckin’ asked you a question–” he snaps his hips balls deep into both your holes and you jerk from the harsh thrust. you squeal, body seizing as you feel the tip of his cocks rubbing against the same linen of muscle.

he smirks at your reaction, repeating the same motions to draw out the same reaction. your smile faltered, in favour of gasping while he knocked the wind out of you, pinching and twisting at your swollen nipples brutally.

“i expect an answer. you had a lot ‘ta say earlier when you were runnin’ yer mouth– where’s the bark now, huh?” sukuna taunts further, and he swears he’s finally got you. your back arches off the mattress as you’re stuffed to the brim– his cum trickles out of both your pussy and ass, your entrances completely wrecked from brutal thrusts.

“ryooo!” you mewl, removing your hands from your breast to rest them around his hips. he cocks a brow at you, and when he feels a sudden pressure around his waist, he realises you’re guiding him to ruin you. you push and pull, your cunt gushing as it echoes wanton squelches from the mixture of fluids between you both.

“oh m’god– ‘m sooo close, f-fuck, keep goin’, puh-please!” you babble on, your words slurred as your eyes roll to the back of your head. your jaw is slackened and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, panting like a dog in heat, and sukuna feels a vein in his head throb in annoyance.

“you fuckin’ whore.” he spits, his fourth hand coming in contact with your cheek roughly. your face jerks to the side, cheek stinging and ears ringing loudly. it was a rough and heavy blow, one that would definitely leave a mark of his superiority on you. he grins when you whine from the brutality, tears streaming quicker down your fucked out face.

you’re snivelling and wailing, but to rub more salt on the wound, sukuna realises you came. both your cunt and ass clenches down on his dicks, muscles contracting as you tremble beneath him, spraying his lap and bed in your juices.

you twitch and chant his name like a mantra, brainless and stupid, as you claw and scratch at any surface beneath you. he never lets up his pace, because despite being bratty, you were still his and he was going to give you a damn good orgasm– even if he was utterly annoyed.

your pussy kegels, clamping ferociously down his shaft whenever he attempts to pull out, as if terrified he’s going to slip out. at this rate, you’re so fucking wet that he might, but you make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. you’ve got a bulge at the bottom of your belly where he can make out the shape of his dick, your frame so tiny compared to his that you look like you’ll fucking break.

you pant, skin flushed and moist from excessive sweating and saliva, and sukuna clenches his hand around your throat tighter. your pupils dilate as you remove a hand from your hips to rest at the hand around your neck, and you’ve got the most lovesick look in your eyes.

“hey. . . why’d you s-stop?”

yeah, there was simply no winning with you, he realises bitterly as he pulls out of you.

on other days, when you act out of line and question his authority, he sits you on a thick leg, pulls your skirt down and spanks you. it’s old fashioned, maybe, but sukuna was an old fashioned man. there was only so much beating one could take before they could surrender and apologise for their bad behaviour, right?

oh, how wrong he was.

he has you counting each blow delivered to the planes of your ass, and restarts whenever you forget what number you’re at. it’s when he’s on his fourth set of starting over from zero– mind you, he’s reached over eighty countless times– that he realises your panties are soaked and you’re grinding down on his thigh.

your tiny arms loop around his neck as your back dips into a curve, rutting your hips over his leg. as you attempt to run from the stinging pain on your ass, you drag your clit forward and moan all filthily into his ears– it almost feels mockingly. he feels your drool leak onto his collarbone, your breath hot and moist against his jugular, and his body betrays him most when he feels his dicks twitch against his thighs.

“brat.” he snarls once he picks up on what you’re doing, and a hand flies up to grip your hair. your head is now pulled away from his neck, eyes staring up at the ceiling as your cheeks swarm with hot tears. your skin is flushed and a mess of fluids, and yet, sukuna doesn’t think he’s seen you any prettier than now.

he glances down at your ass, all red from the consistent abuse and scratch marks carving into your skin, and when he looks even further down, he notices the growing patch of dampness at his pants. you were truly getting off on this, in true brat fashion, your cunt leaving traces of your sluttiness all over him.

he bounces his leg, and when you jolt, squealing from the sudden stimulation, he gets an idea. he continues to bounce his leg beneath you as you grind even harder down his lap, your fingernails clawing at his trapezius. you cry out his name when he spanks your ass blow after blow, opting to push yet pull away from the pain by humping his leg.

with all of these stimulations accumulating, he’s certain you’re bound to cum soon. he can read you like an open book, your body language telling him everything he needs to know– from the way you tend to claw at his skin, or the mini stutters of your hips, or the throbbing of your clit pulsating against his thigh.

“kunaaa– ngh, shit, ‘s so good~!” you whimper, voice breathless and scratchy. he tugs harder at your hair and you moan even louder, hands sliding down his shoulders to his chest. he winces when your fingers brush over his erect nipples, and spanks you harder for that.

naturally, it only eggs you on.

“you just don’t listen, do ya?” sukuna growls, nuzzling into your exposed neck to plunge his fangs into your supple flesh. he bites at your jugular, sharp teeth tearing at the flesh deep enough to draw blood. “the fuck i gotta do to get it through yer brainless head?”

you choke at the rush of pain, jolts of electricity running down your spine. adrenaline rushes through your veins as the abuse sits in your tummy in a form of a knot, ready to break at any moment. your clit leaked as you profusely hump thick and bouncing muscles, the mounds of your ass prickling from multiple blows, the dull throb at your skull making your ears ring and the teeth sunk into your skin so painful, it shot straight to your core.

your gut tightens, and you know you’re bound to release. “f-fuuckk, daddy– yesyesyes, needa cum! ‘m gonna–”

and like the cruel man he is, sukuna stops. you’re at the end of the finish line, a foot about to cross, and he pulls you back. he watches with a sinister smile as he halts his movements, and you’re still, mouth agape and eyelids shut tight. your entire body contracts as it registers he’s interrupted you.

“what was that?” he chuckles darkly at your quietness. you’re holding your breath back, and the utter irony of it all makes him cocky. he’s finally done it– he’s disciplined you to the point that your brain stopped functioning from the lack of attention your body’s receiving.

however, fate plays a funny game when he instinctively slaps your ass. it hadn’t meant to come off as intense or rough, simply to mock your state of mind. he hadn’t realised that was the final push you needed to erupt a wail on top of him, your body quivering as it released litres of your arousal all over him.

he watches, completely baffled as you cream over his lap, fingernails digging into his skin as you arch your chest into his. fat tears decorate your flushed cheeks, and trickle down your neck and slide to your chest. you subconsciously grind once more onto him, dragging out the high before it runs out, that stupid smile etched back onto your plump lips.

time seems to still for sukuna as he observes your delayed orgasm, your moans intertwining with your giggles– and suddenly he thinks you’re the cruel one, cheeks split as you grin hard, “hooolyyy fuck!”

you were a force to be reckoned with, and once more, sukuna ryomen had absolutely no idea what to do with you.

don’t look at me.

#stargirl★rena.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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lostfracturess · 17 days

Note

Could you do (describe) ex husband or boyfriend ryomen sukuna would be like? If not it’s ok

sfw

ex-husband!sukuna who was all reckless charm and impulsive energy, the kind of man who who made your head spin, always pulling you into something new.

ex-husband!sukuna who'd drag you onto his bike at midnight, speeding through the rain, both of you laughing like children.

ex-husband!sukuna who would set up a candlelit dinner on the balcony with takeout and whisper all these promises that made your heart race.

ex-husband!sukuna who slowly got sucked into work, always distracted, until you started feeling like an afterthought.

ex-husband!sukuna who'd miss anniversaries or big nights, try to make it up with that old charm, but it would never last. just left you feeling more and more alone.

ex-husband!sukuna who seemed legitimately surprised when you said the word "divorce." like, he thought you were messing with him or something.

ex-husband!sukuna who refuses to sign the papers just to be a pain in the ass. pure stubbornness.

ex-husband!sukuna who "loses" the papers. he claims they got mixed up, or maybe the dog ate them (he doesn't have a dog). you have to order new ones, further delaying everything.

ex-husband!sukuna who throws a fit when he tries to use his old key and the lock's changed. he genuinely can't believe you'd actually shut him out.

ex-husband!sukuna who still acts like nothing happened. he sends funny texts, memes, like he's trying to restart your old banter.

ex-husband!sukuna who suddenly knows all your favorite takeout places again. food shows up at your door, paid for, with a little note "thought you might like this."

ex-husband!sukuna who brings up inside jokes, old memories. reminds you of that one crazy night in vegas, or how you both hated your old neighbor.

ex-husband!sukuna who "accidentally" runs into you everywhere. the gym, the bookstore, even your favorite little coffee shop – always looking his best, of course.

ex-husband!sukuna who drops hints about some grand gesture he's planning. a weekend away, a fancy dinner reservation, trying to get you to bite. but you don't.

ex-husband!sukuna who is all over the place. one minute he's acting like his old, arrogant self, the next he's practically on his knees, begging for a second chance.

ex-husband!sukuna who sees that playing the nice guy isn't getting him anywhere. so, he switches gears, ready to try a different tactic.

ex-husband!sukuna who acts like he's finally willing to sign the papers. he shows up at your place, smelling too good and looking infuriatingly handsome.

ex-husband!sukuna who gets way too close for comfort. a brush of his arm, "fixing" a strand of your hair, leaning in under the pretense of reading the papers.

ex-husband!sukuna who suddenly comes very close until your back is against the wall. the intensity in his eyes is scorching as he whispers apologies, promises to be different, to make it up to you.

ex-husband!sukuna who reacts to your rejection with a flicker of anger, that challenge in your eyes igniting something in him.

ex-husband!sukuna who doesn't bother with words anymore. he crashes his lips against yours, demanding that you give in.

nsfw

ex-husband!sukuna who just knows how to kiss you, where to touch you to get his way with you, tearing off your clothes and throwing them aside in mere seconds.

ex-husband!sukuna who lifts you up and pushes you up against the wall, his mouth all over your neck and collarbone as he thrusts into you.

ex-husband!sukuna whose size was familiar, whose size should be familiar, but after weeks of no intimacy, the feeling of him inside you is almost overwhelming.

ex-husband!sukuna whose girth stretches you wide, filling every inch of you, each thrust of him hitting your g-spot perfectly.

ex-husband!sukuna who fucked you rough against the wall, his hips pounding against yours, driving himself deeper and harder with each thrust.

ex-husband!sukuna who leaves bites along your shoulder blade, on your neck and on your throat, your skin red and purple in seconds.

ex-husband!sukuna who then carries you away, to the nearest flat surface. this time it's the dining table, its cool wooden top chilling your heated skin.

ex-husband!sukuna who lifts your leg over his shoulder as you lie on your back on the table and sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with such force that the table slides across the floor with each thrust.

ex-husband!sukuna who, when you think you can't take any more, flips you over onto your stomach and pulls your hips up so that your ass is presented to him like a feast.

ex-husband!sukuna who enters you again, this time from behind, causing you to moan loudly. he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back onto his cock as he fucks you mercilessly.

ex-husband!sukuna who reaches around to rub your clit. within moments, you're crying out his name as you orgasm, your muscles contracting around him.

ex-husband!sukuna who follows suit shortly after, emptying himself inside of you with a satisfied sigh.

ex-husband!sukuna who pulls out slowly, leaving you feeling empty and wanting.

ex-husband!sukuna who leans down to plant a tender kiss on your back, whispering that he's always wanted you, only you. and that he's not going to sign the divorce papers.

author's note: lol i think this is low-key too soft for sukuna (i’m not good at writing him tbh, i’m a satoru girly at heart) but i tried and hope you enjoy it either way. & have a great day !! ♡

#sukuna smut #sukuna headcanons #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader

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screampied · 1 month

Note

yuki and reader scissoring while choso begs to be in the middle ,,, vegas do you see the vision 🗣️🗣️🗣️

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso being the third wheel between you & yuki

warnings. fem! reader, cucking, scissoring, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.

“such a pretty girl,” she’d purr in a soft voice—her hand gripping against your heel as she’s gradually rocking herself against you. you couldn’t suppress the sweet mewls and moans from your glossy lips even if you tried. your legs were all sprawled out and yuki’s on top of you—rubbing her clit against yours and it feels simply euphoric. “heh, gotta keep up with me angel,” she creates kiss trails near your heel. her pace had so much rhythm, you’re just slumped back against the bed with your mouth slightly dangling open. “mhm. fuck me back jus’ like that, thereeee we go.”

it was so much mobility of her hips, you bit your lip as your eyes roam all over her body—she’s grinding against you continuously and you let off a moan once her legs interlace with you further. her pussy jerks against yours and you whimper out a sweet, “y—yuki, f-fuckkk.”

choso gulps, watching his two lovers bump clits in such a sensual way—his pout displays against his lips before he speaks in a needy tone, lowering his head towards the blond. “yuki, i want a turn too. you’re being s-stingy with her.”

“i told you to be a good boy ‘n wait, choso,” she murmurs, averting her eyes back towards you before silencing your syrupy sweet moans with a kiss. you’re out of breath, practically dragging your hands up her spine before pulling her closer towards the warmth of your body. you taste the remains of her favored lipgloss on your tongue before she departs, watching choso frown. “aw. just a few more minutes then you’ll get a turn, baby.”

“s—stop calling me that, yuki.” he mumbles, glancing down at you before softly strumming a thumb against your tummy.

“make me, pretty boy.” she jibes, giving him a quick wink before going back to kissing you.

“you’re . . you’re being a brat, yuki,” choso huffs out a cute irritated sigh. he leans close to give you a kiss. they’re both competing with you, solely on who can coat you with more kisses.

choso softly strums a thumb near the edge of your chin, pulling you closer into a deep kiss.

he tastes sweet . . sweeter than he’s ever been.

even though, yuki’s continuing to vigorously sway her hips against yours—your right arm hooks around her waist as she’s rutting back and forth, about to fall into a blissful spasm.

“i— i want you,” choso speaks between soft breaths, foreheads meeting against each other. the way he was trying to get between you both was so cute.

one kiss turns into two, then three, then four . .

a plethora of adoring pecks near your lips. when choso’s horny and needy, it’s adorable.

he literally can’t keep his hands to himself.

he allows his hands roam all over your body as yuki’s slowly lifts up your leg a tad bit higher.

with the angle she has, her sopping cunt resumes to clash against yours. the moist wet plops of squelches that escaped from the both of you were so lewd.

the entirety of the provocative scene taking place was simply downright dirty. the blonde woman starts to moan herself the second she feels a sudden rapture pool up inside her clenched abdomen.

“my . . my,” she squeaks, a sheepish smile going against her lips before she picks up her pace a bit more. her voice was teasing, a mere harmony to listen to.

she feels the slight twinge that lasts for only a second, it shifts into pleasure and you’re surely about to lose it. yuki pulls choso away from you before kissing you again for probably the umpteenth time. with a pout, he watches before not expecting yuki to bring him into a kiss also.

“oh you big baby,” she hums playfully, still grinding against you—with the obscene view, your eyes linger towards her chiseled abs that flex and tense with each jerk she creates forward. she’s unintentionally sexy, with a brief moment of her hips—you gaze as a few beads of sweat race down her stomach and she shoots you a sly grin. “if you wanted a kiss, choso all you had to do was ask.”

“y—yuki..” choso moans, melting into butter just from her coquettish actions.

her plump lips were so soft as they went against his, you felt your cunt twitch at watching them make out. choso doesn’t know what to do with his hands and she titters, grabbing his hands to place on her waist. still multitasking, she’s keeping up her rhythm at pulverizing her hips steady against you. so wet, the noises that squealed from your pussy rings throughout your ears and even reverbs across the entire room.

the both of you were close—substantially approaching that familiar unavoidable release. tips of your ears grew out to be so hot, your hand drags towards her ass to squeeze it and she giggles.

“aw,” she teases, pulling away from choso for a breath of fresh air. he’s so embarrassed—but he didn’t exactly want her to pull away. choso subtly licks his lips before averting his eyes back down toward you. the stimulation, you find your back starting to arch before feeling your climax arise at such a rapid speed. it was sporadic the way everything was happening at once. “kiss our girl while she cums, choso.”

“f— fine,” he stammers, and he’s trying to keep up his jealous grumbly facade but he’s clearly failing. he didn’t know who he wanted more—you or yuki. alas, it was choso, so more than likely he wanted you both. and he did, he leaned up close before lowering his head toward you. you heave, breaths becoming more and more heavy before he softly laps his tongue against the inner part of your neck. you moan from his sweet touch, feeling choso then start to coat the entire frame of your collarbone with nothing but kisses.

“s—so sweet,” he croons, starting to gingerly nibble against your skin. “let yuki make you cum, c’mon princess,” and he leans in to kiss near your lips, “mwah,” he coos, skimming a thumb against the crevices of your mouth before staring at you. his naturally drowsy stare, it was so loving. he was still needy, yet seeing you so close to your orgasm was enough to make him wanna please you even more. after all, your pleasure was always their pleasure. “pretty girl.”

“yuki i’m gonna c—cummm,” you’d huff out in irregular pants, feeling the familiar coil within you be on the very edge of snapping. your hand squeezes yuki’s wrist and she’s just as vocal as you. sweet voice honeyed with such smoothness that you could listen to her all day.

she moves choso aside, hearing him grumble cutely before she kisses you again this time, every few seconds she breaks away before whispering, “give it to me baby,” and soft cacophonies along the sides of, “come on. make a mess all on my pussy.”

her words, it was filled with such dirtiness. she stares into your eyes, your hands merely dragging her hips back and forth before you end up cumming. yuki matches your peak, a gasp rippling from her lips before she slows her thrusts down.

“fuckkkk, sweetheart,” she moans, still grinding against you but she slows down—reaching a hand between your legs to spread your swollen lips open. she runs a thumb down your slit, watching you twitch and spasm before he exhales deeply. yuki giggles, feeling choso’s chin rests against her shoulder. he was done being patient, and he wanted attention too. “fine, fine. so impatient.”

she gets off of you and you’re catching your breath before choso sits you up. he peppers a few sweet kisses near your neck before whining.

“waited so long,” he shakily sighs. as you run a hand down his chiseled chest, he gets up between you and your nude body. as he inches closer, that’s when you feel it. choso’s hardened boner that poked through his shorts, he was embarrassed—but he wanted you so bad. mwah, another kiss presses against your forehead before he spreads your legs, softly rubbing against your sensitive entrance. “now it’s m-my turn, princess. just lie back ‘n let me do everything o—okay?”

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wintfleur · 6 months

Text

ꔫ did so good baby

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( you and your boyfriend spend the night together celebrating the Las Vegas gp )

°. — details ( g; smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!) dirty talk, sub lando, riding, kinda soft dom reader?, I’m not sure what else to add. wc; 3k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( sooo i decided to write another smut, and ofc I had to do sub lando!!. I’m not too sure of this one, so please let me know what you think! Also think of this as a late birthday post for lando! I can’t believe I forgot to post something on his b-day! I also knew I had to get something out for this gp since Vegas is my home town! HE DESERVED BETTER THIS RACE BUT STILL SO PROUD OF HIM But anyways I hope you guys enjoy this! Please don’t be a silent reader! )

“Look at you baby” you coo as your lips leave a wet trail up his bare stomach and chest. Lando tilts his head back, his eyes shut as heavy breaths pass through his lips. His chest moving simultaneously with his heavy breathing as he tried to calm down from the orgasm you just gave him. A sense of pride warms your chest at the whimper that escapes your boyfriend's pretty lips when you teasingly twirl your tongue around his nipple. “Always so responsive”

“Darling please” Lando begged, his tone so whiny that it made you smirk. You place your hands on his bare thighs feeling him twitch under you from your touch, you use his thighs to help you sit up on your knees between his spread legs. You look down at your boyfriend who was leaning back on his hands, his eyes still closed.

You bring one of your hands up to cup his chin with your pointer and thumb, your grip isn't rough, but it also wasn't gentle. “What is it baby, come on look at me.”

“Please, i need more” Lando pleads after he flutters his eyes open to look up at you. The sight of you nearly took his breath away, you were so enchanting and the way you looked down at him made him even more desperate for more of your touch, for your lips. His eyes wander down your body and he feels his mouth water at the sight of you in his favorite-colored lace lingerie.

“So needy, was what I have given you already not enough?” you dramatically pout, your tone condescending and teasing. Your hand that was gripping his chin moves to his shoulder while your other hand that was resting on his thigh slowly moves up his chest to rest on his other shoulder, using his shoulders as leverage to straddle his lap. A small hiss leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling of his throbbing tip brushing against your lace panties when you lean down to whisper in his ear tauntingly to ask again “it wasn't good enough?”

“No no it was so good…please” Lando stutters over his words, finding it hard to form words at the feeling of you placing soft kisses on his shoulder and collarbone. You so desperately wanted to give him what he wanted, the wet spot on your panties were almost dripping with your desire…but you couldn't give in so quickly.

“Tell me what you want baby” You whispered seductively between the kisses you littered across his neck, his skin burning under the soft but relentless touch of your lips. Lando nearly whimpers at your words, squeezing the sheets in his hands to stop himself from grabbing your hips, his mind running with thoughts of what he wanted.

“I wanna feel you wrapped around me” Lando whined, cutting himself off with a gasp at the feeling of you sucking under his jaw, hissing when you teasingly blow onto it after. Lando knows that he going to have to beg if you were really going to give him what he wanted “Please, please I've been so good.”

“Hmm you have” You hummed as you moved your face from his neck to get a look at your boyfriend's pretty face, his eyes were already on you. You can see the pleading look in his eyes, your poor boy was so desperate. You move some of his curls from his forehead and give him a small smile, you couldn't say no to him; not when he looked at you like that. “I’ll give you what you want baby.”

A breath of relief leaves Lando's lips and you let out a small giggle on the look that appears on his face. You lean back on his thighs, and you keep your eyes on his as you move your hand behind your back, unclipping your bra in one quick movement and dropping it somewhere on the hotel bed. A small smirk appears on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend's eyes immediately dropping to your naked chest, he always did have a weakness for your boobs. Lando licks his lips and has to stop himself from cupping your boobs into his hands.

You lean back down, a big smile on your lips at the way he looks up at you with his pretty eyes, you would never get over the way he looked at you, you loved him so much. You place your hand on his cheek before closing your eyes and pulling him into a kiss, Lando moaning as your tongues meet. You kissed him until you felt him pull away to catch his breath, he was quick to lean forward to continue the kiss, but you pulled away and shook your head no. You smirked when he whined at your rejection. You whisper sweetly, but an underlying of sternness in your tone “Lay back.”

Your boyfriend was quick to listen to you, laying back and resting his head on the soft pillow. He was pretty sure he would do anything you said just so he could feel you wrapped around him; he couldn't handle any more of your teasing tonight. It all started when you went out with a few other drivers and their girlfriends to celebrate the race. You had dressed up in his favorite dress and the way you danced against him in the club and the way you rested your hand on his thigh when you sat, got him all worked up. That was 2 hours ago.

You reached down between the two of you and took him into your hands, a soft moan leaving his lips immediately, at your touch. You could feel him throbbing in your hands, and for a second you felt a little bad for teasing him for so long, but that quickly disappeared as you slowly started to stroke him. The spit and left over cum from the head you gave him, made it easy to move your hand up and down. Lando turns his head to the side, his eyes shutting as moans pass through his parted lips.

You rub your thumb over his tip, watching his reaction as his breath hitches and a sweet whine leave his lips along with a desperate ‘please’. You decide that that's enough teasing, so you move your hand from his dick and move it between your thighs. A small gasp escaping your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing against your clit as you move your panties to the side, God you were sopping.

You hold your panties to the side while your other hand grips onto the base of his dick, teasingly rubbing his tip up and down against your slit, coating his cock in your slick. A whine leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling. Once you were content with how wet his cock was, you lined his tip up with your entrance. You look down at your boyfriend and see that he's already looking up at you, and before you can open your mouth to ask; he’s nodding his head yes and whispering “please.”

You guide his cock into you and slowly sink down, the thick head of his cock stretching your velvety walls, your eyes fluttering close at the stretch. Lando’s thighs clench and a groan leaves his lips at how prettily your lips stretch around his cock. Sweet and loud moans escape your lips as your cunt struggles to take him in, your walls so tight around his thick cock that you can feel every inch. Both of you moaning in unison at the feeling of him being buried to the hilt in your sweet, warm pussy.

You open your eyes and rest your hands on his abdomen, feeling his chest rise and fall with his heavy breaths, still trying to get used to how tight you feel around him. You smile and lean down, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek. Lando’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of your naked tits against his chest and before he could let out a moan at the feeling of your fluttering around his dick, you lock his lips in a slow and sensual kiss.

“You feel so good Lan” you whisper against his lips after you pull away from the kiss. You watch through your eyelashes as a shy smile appears on your boyfriend's lips. You caress his cheek with your thumb for a few seconds before you sit up, adjusting your knees at his side. You place both your hands back on his chest, watching his face as you slowly start to move up and down.

“God Lando” you whined in pleasure as you continued your motions. Bouncing up and down at a slow pace, the stretch was big but felt so good. Lando’s moans become louder as your rhythm starts to pick up, the feeling of your warm wet walls squeezing him was too much, he didn't know how long he would last.

“You can touch my baby, it's okay” You coo seductively, you could feel the way he was throbbing in you and the way he was squeezing the sheets, whimpers and pretty moans leaving his parted lips. As soon as those words left your mouth, he quickly stopped squeezing the linen and eagerly moved his hands to your chest, softly groping your tits. You would have teased him because of his eagerness but instead a loud moan came out instead, your nipples were always so sensitive and Lando loved using that to his advantage.

Lando smiled cheekily at the sound, but you were quick to shut down his own teasing when you purposely clenched around him. Lando drops his hands from your nipples and down to squeeze onto your waist, closing his eyes as a loud groan leaves his lips. You rock your hips faster against his, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Darling, I don't know how much longer I’ll last” Lando moans out, his thighs were constantly clenching, he was so close. The way your pussy gripped him and the way he could feel your desire make a mess on his thighs and drip down his balls were too much. Don't get him started on the hypnotic sight of your tits bouncing in unison with your fast pace. And he knew you so well that he could tell you were close too, your movements became more frantic and the way you fluttered around him proved him right.

“Me to baby — feels so good” you whimpered, you felt that tight rope in your stomach and you knew your peak was close. It was almost overwhelming how good it felt, his pelvic bone was hitting your clit every time you came down, and his pretty moans were too much for you. Lando looks away from your chest and up to your face, and he swore that he could have cummed just at the sight of you. Your mouth was agape, your face twisted in pleasure, your skin was glistening in sweat.

Lando lifts his legs, his feet planted on the bed and his grip on your hips tighten. Both of you are moaning in unison at the new position. You keep one of your hands on his chest while the other moves behind you to squeeze his knee in pleasure, the new position causing him to go inside you deeper. Lando moves one of his hands from your hips and moves it to his chest, softly squeezing your hand. He needed to hold your hand; he was overwhelmed with the pleasure he was feeling.

Your eyes flutter open and your movements still, you look down at your boyfriend and see the blissed outlook on his face. He was looking up at you with hooded eyes and his mouth parted as heavy breaths passed through his lips. You could see it in his eyes and the way his hands were clinging to you, he was so close. You smirk and lean down so your chests were almost touching, moving your hand that was now interlocked with his, by the side of his head.

“What? gonna cum already?” you whispered tauntingly in his ear, tangling your hand that was on his chest, in his hair that was at his nape. You continued to rock your hips against his, your ass slapping against his thighs, creating a lewd sound. A loud and embarrassing whine escaped his red and puffy lips, the coil in his stomach only tightening and so did his grip on your hand and hip. You knew the more you talked to him like that, the faster he would come undone.

“Gonna fill me up? — Hmm? Make a mess?” You continued to taunt him, your movements becoming more frantic, chasing his and your release. Lando was to fucked out to properly respond, the only sounds leaving his mouth was moans and a pitiful ‘yes’. You move your hand from his nape and softly pat his bottom lip with your pointer and middle finger. Lando knows what it means, and he eagerly opens his mouth for you. You smile big and bite on your bottom lip, sliding your two fingers into his mouth, his mouth closing around your fingers.

“So good for me” you coo between your own moans, your eyes not leaving your boyfriend's pretty face. Lando twirled his tongue around your fingers to get them wet, his eyes closed as he couldn't help but moan around them. You pull your wet fingers out of Lando's mouth, smirking at the small whine that leaves his now parted lips. You move your hand between the two of you, your wet fingers making contact with your even wetter clit. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you start rubbing it.

“I’m so close — please can i cum?” Lando begged as he let out a choked-out moan, tilting his head back in pleasure, blinking away the tears that stored in his waterline. You can feel him pant against your mouth, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. The pleasure he was feeling was something he's never felt before, the coil in his stomach becoming too much. Your eyes went down to his and the way he looked, nearly brought you over the edge.

“Please Lan, i wanna feel you” You almost begged, you were so close. The way your thighs clenched and ached at the fast rhythm you had as you rocked against his cock, and your fingers were sopping and ached at how fast you moved them against your clit; but you cherish the ache. You move to sit up, but a surprised moan leaves your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you down to his chest, an even louder moan leaves your lips at the feeling of him thrusting up into you.

“Fuuuck” You whine loudly, your eyes squeezing shut and your fingers moving from your clit to squeeze onto the white linen. The sound of skin slapping was so lewd and echoed across the lavish hotel room, you were thankful that the bed didn't start hitting against the wall from Lando's movements. The angle wrenches a sling of moans leaving yours and his lips, his pace becoming delirious and his grip on you tightens as he cried out “fuck, ‘m gonna cum”

“Oh my god Lan!” you cried out in pleasure as Lando held you down on his cock. The feeling of his thick head of his cock hitting deep against the sensitive spot of your slick cunt and the feeling of warmth as he spilled himself deep inside you with a loud cry of your name, brings you to your own peak. The tight rope rips and you feel yourself fall into your desire, feeling your walls throb around his cock as you come undone. A pleasure that left you lightheaded.

It was silent for a long while as you simply held each other, finding comfort in each other's soft touch and the feeling of their beating heartbeat against one another's chest. You moved your hand away from squeezing the linen, a small sting in your fingers from how hard you squeezed, and you moved it up to his cheek. You tilted your head up towards him and watched as his eyes fluttered open at your touch, a tired smile forming on your lips at the beautiful sight of his eyes. You caress his cheek softly with your thumb before whispering “You did so good baby.”

“Tonight, and at the race, I'm so proud” You continue to whisper, you were insanely proud of your boyfriend. The love and trust that you had for each other made tonight even more special for the two of you. Lando felt a little emotional at your words, no matter what he always knew that you were by his side.

“I love you” you finally heard his voice; it was quiet and scratchy from all the loud moans that he let out tonight. Your smile gets bigger, and you lean your face closer to his, placing a gentle and slow kiss on his lips. Lando eagerly kissed you back, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides. You pull away to whisper against his lips “I love you more.”

“Room service?” Lando asked his tone hopeful as he broke the few moments of silence the two of you had shared as you stared into each other's eyes. The two of you didn't have to say anything else, your eyes told each other everything already. You laugh loudly at his words, of course he was thinking about food. Lando smiles big at the sound of your laugh, bringing one of his hands up to softly play with your hair.

You place a soft kiss on the corner of his lips before you fully sit up, your eyes going down where the two of you meet. You raise your hips and watch as his now soft cock slips out of you, a groan leaving both of your lips at the feeling. A sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of your mixed cum dripping down your thighs. You look up at your boyfriend to see his eyes trained down at your messy cunt softly biting his lip. You scoff playfully and nudge him with your knee, his eyes shooting up to yours with a bashful smile, shy that he got caught.

“Bath and then room service”

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @ophcelia )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg I’m kinda in love with sub!lando and I really want to explore more of it! Feel free to send in some asks! )

#﹕─┈ roro’s works #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #las vegas gp 2023

2K notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others

youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

and 567 other comments

“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

and 329 other comments

the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: new heights n pretty lights

user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

landonorris: i want that hat back btw

user6: she is the moment

user: mommy? huh who said that?

and 588 other comments

lando.jpg just posted on instagram

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lando.jpg: from the road

oscarpiastri: violation.

youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)

user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

and 799 other comments

your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: commotion for the dress?

yourfriendmia: *commotion*

user5: on my knees begging

user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟

mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡

yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy

and 504 other comments

you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others

youruser: our secret moments

landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘

youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)

user1: FINALLY

user4: bisexual panic is a real thing.

otheruser: i used to pray for times like these

maxfewtrell: took you long enough.

yourfriendmia: mum n dad

user63: mclaren ships it and so do i

and 1,442 other comments

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

maintenance: i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed!

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c0eu4 · 5 months

Note

Part 2 of the tits fic?

LN4 | Tits ♡

Summary: Y/n and Lando goes out for his birthday and they finish in their hotel room more quickly than expected.

Warning: smut, oral (m receiving), swearing, unprotected sex, dom+sub!lando, dom+sub!reader

A/N: yep. This is 1.3K word of smut. Hope y'all will like it <3

part one - part two - part three

MASTERLIST requests are open

She feels a sensation of deja vu when Lando lean against the counter, asking to the bartender for another drink. She lets her fingerstip running throughout his hairs on his arm as he smiles lovely at her.

''Have I ever told you that you're super pretty?'' She chuckles and kiss him tenderly. ''All the time since this afternoon.''

To celebrate Lando's birthday, Carlos threw a party at one of the many clubs in Las Vegas. And Y/n accompanied Lando as his new girlfriend.

Lando's hand slid on her waist, keeping her close to him as he takes his drink. He took a sip of it but almost spit it out, ''Can you sign my tits?'' She asked him, laughing softly at his face. ''I would love to.'' He asked to the bartender for a pen and he gives one to him. Lando doesn't even ask this time and he puts his hand on her left breast, stretching the skin to allow the pen to work better. He signs it, writing 'for Y/n, with love' and he does the same on the other one.

He gives the pen back to the bartender and takes his drink again. ''Hope you still have energy to dance?'' She dragged him to the dancefloor, his hands never leaving her hips. He forgets his drink in a corner, too busy dancing against his beloved.

He can feel her small body moving against him, her ass pressing against his now little bulge. She keeps moving like that, feeling all Lando's body against hers. His forehead fall against her shoulder in a deep moan. They were literally teasing each other in front of everyone.

''Fuck Y/n, don't you want to go back at the hotel?'' She doesn't even answer, already taking his hand and getting out of the club.

They run they way back to the hotel, walking quickly in the cold streets of Las Vegas. Lando carries her like a princess, already imagining all the position he will do with her.

When they entered the elevator, Lando doesn't wait any more and let her get back on her foots before pinning her against the wall, his hips slamming against hers. ''Feel how much you make me feel.'' He rubs himself against her, his tights pant hurting his hard member.

They urge to their hotel room, him already taking off the button on his shirt. This time, it's her who pin him against the wall. She grabs his cock over his pants, kneading him hard. He lets his head fall down in a long and deep moan. He take off his shirt and she gets on her knees.

Lando's eyes were full of lust. He imagined this hundreds of times. And finally, the day comes. She takes off his pants and his boxer simultaneously, already jerking his hard cock. She bites her lower lips, wanting nothing more than take him in her mouth.

''Ah..Please..'' Lando beg her, too needy. She licks his length and kisses his tips, using her thongs to make circles around it. Lando pass his hand in her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. He guided her head to his cock, feeling her tight mouth around him.

Lando has always been very loud in bed. He never holds back his moans and always says whatever comes to mind. She suck him, using her hands to play with his balls and jerking where she can't suck. Lando's breath became quicker as he feels the knot in his lower abdomen untied.

''Wait wait wait.'' He pulls her away, his cock glistering from her mouth. ''Use your breasts.'' She smile naughtily, taking off her dress and underwear. She gets back on her knees and squeezes her breasts. She lets his cock slide between her tits, moving up and down. ''Ahhh!! Fuck!! Y/n!!'' It was even better than all the times he imagined her breasts instead of his hand.

''Oh fuck!! Carlos would be so jealous...'' He moaned loudly, keeping back his orgasm. Seeing her tits move up and down against his cock and what's more, seeing his own signature on them makes him want to cum even more. She quicker her movement and spit on his tips. And it was enough to make Lando cum between her breasts, spilling all of his hot seed onto her collarbone and breasts. She uses her fingers to collect his cum and eats it sensually.

''On all fours, now.'' He said strict yet sweet. She obeyed him, feeling him behind her. He let his fingers passing throughout her wet folds, feeling her wetness. ''So wet and only for me, mh?'' He squeezed her ass cheek, rubbing his dick head against her tight entrance. ''Please..'' She whines, her liquid already falling down her pussy. ''You're going to have to beg a little more.'' He entered his pink mushrooms inside her but take it off immediately. ''Lando! Please! I need you so much! Please, please, please, please, plea-'' She moaned loudly when he brutally push his length into her, her wall squeezing him so much.

He grips on her shoulder and hips, starting with a slow pace. ''You like it, mh? Being my dirty little whore?'' He increase the pace, taking it almost out and back in, roughly. He keeps a slow but hard pace, making her eyes watered, her moans muffled by the pillow.

''Lando!'' He gets quicker, feeling her wall clenching around him. His hips slaps hardly against her ass in a dirty we song. He suddenly take it out, a moan of frustration escaping her lips. He made her turn onto her back, grabs her hands and put it above her head. He push back into her, pounding in her merciless. The headboard hit the wall hardly, in rhythm with his hips thrusts.

She cums loudly around his cock, drowning him with her sweet nectar. But it doesn't stop Lando. He takes out again, carry her as she find the strength to wrap her legs around him. He pins her against the wall, already pouding into her again.

He slams his hips against hers, his balls slamming roughly against her. He can't stop moaning, mixed with her moan, it made a symphony. He only want one thing. Everyone to ear that he own her.

''Who makes you feels that good?'' He slowly gets tired but want her to cum one last time. ''Y-you Lando!'' He keeps pouding into her, her climax already here. She drowning him a second time and he allow himself to empty his arching balls in her.

He drops her again on the mattress, laying next to her. He takes her in his arms, passing his hands in her sweaty hair.

''You wanna take a bath?'' He kisses her cheek, really tenderly. She yawns and cuddle her nuzzle against his neck. ''Just want to stay in your arms.'' She said with a sleepy voice. ''Sweetie, you need to go to pee. I don't want you to have an infection because of me.'' She groans and sit down on the bed.

As she tries to walk but failed, Lando gets up and helped her to go to the bathroom. He filled the bathtub with hot water as she quickly pee, removing a bit of Lando's cum from inside her.

He makes her sit in the bathtub, himself sitting behind her. She leans against his chest, her eyes heavy from all the orgasm she just had. He stroke her waist, looking at all the bruises and red marks he makes on her body.

When the water start to be lukewarm then cold, they get out and change into something more comfortable. While Y/n brush her teeth and try to arrange her hair, Lando change the sheet of the bed, really not wanting to sleep on something full of cum.

He goes back to see her and carry her like a princess. He pulls the blanket over their chin, wrapping his arms around her waist.

''Have a good night, my love.'' She only answer with a sleepy 'mh', pulling all the blanket to her. Lando understand that she wish him a good night too. And he let her takes all the blanket. If it makes her more comfortable.

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bluerosefox · 7 months

Text

Ghost Marriage Allows More Than One!

Tim wakes up in a hotel room in Vegas snuggled against a chest but he wasn't surprised.

He had been in the Sin City for a WE meeting and had brought Bernard along the trip since Tim's birthday was just shy a few days into it and well he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend since most of his family were off world (Dick, Jason, and Bruce all had important missions and they all apologized for missing out and Tim couldn't blame them he understood and he himself couldn't get out of the Vegas meetings no matter what he tried to do.) Or couldn't come to join him (Damian had school as did Duke and Alfred was taking care of them while the others were gone. Steph and Cass were out of country working with some important things with Babs and again he understood.) (Did it still sting yes but they all promised to make it up when they got back, Alfred even promised a coffee cake just for him)

So yeah, Vegas meeting trip turned somewhat birthday fun with his boyfriend. And since Bernard has always been good with encouraging Tim to try things it came to no surprise that during their stay he had managed to convince Tim to try drinking for the night.

Yes terrible influence Bernard was sometimes, but he did make a point. Tim was an adult now and sometimes it's okay to at least try adult dumb stuff, he didn't have to like it and could stop if he really didnt want to but he can at least say he tried it once. That it was okay for Tim to let go of his vigilante brain and just have fun in the one city that was made for it.

So try Tim did. Just for the night.

So yeah, Tim wasn't really surprised when he woke up the next morning, alcohol aftertaste on his breath, head pounding, nose scrunched up from the light of the sun peeking in from the curtains, and snuggling himself into a rather chilly chest...

Wait...

Chilly?

Tim opened his eyes when he realized that. Bernard never felt cold to Tim when they would snuggle, no he was always warm, like a warm heating blanket. It was why Tim loved snuggling him. Why was he-

Tim's eyes widened when he saw not blonde hair on the body in the bed with him but black hair. He almost flung himself off the bed from him startling awake and watched the one he had been snuggled next to mumble in his sleep and turn over.

Tim felt pure dread as he continued to stare, his stomach turning as his thoughts got bad, oh god..God... did he... oh no, no, no no. Oh where was Bernard- FUCK did he really-

Tim flinched when he heard a door open and snapped his eyes towards it. He felt his mouth go dry when he spotted his boyfriend coming out of what was the bathroom of the room and had just finished taking a shower from the sounds of left over dripping water and from the towel he was using to clean his hair.

Bernard stopped in his spot when he noticed Tim staring at him before he gave Tim a very uneasy chuckle, his eyes darting towards the sleeping body on the bed "H-Hey, good morning T. I see you... uhh seen our guest."

Tim felt ready to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out was a strangled sound because of course he fucked up and ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him and-

But before he could spiral further into his anxiety and dread Bernard kept speaking.

"So ummm. Do you also remember meeting Danny at the bar, getting really tipsy, hanging out, having fun and then like going to a ghost bar with him so he could really drunk because he's like half ghost. And I mean like a legit ghost bar, like we saw Elvis and Marilyn Monroe there and they were like floating. Then we all got like super mega drunk and then... maybe kinda sorta got ghost married... because ghost marriage allows unlimited spouses cause you know, already dead doesn't matter and it's also almost permanent cause again the whole dead thing... Or did I hallucinate all that last night and we just brought in a random stranger to bed?" He asked his voice unsure as he looked between Tim and the stranger Danny in bed before lifting his hand up and showing Tim a glowing ring on it. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream it up because I kinda woke up with this, and it refuses to come off."

Tim went silent for a moment, wide eyed as he stared back at Bernard before the pounding headache he had hit him harder than ever when the very memories of everything Bernard had said came flooding back to him. With a gasp Tim quickly looked st his own hand and sure enough on his finger was a matching glowing wedding band on it, his eyes snapped towards Danny... Danny Nightingale? Or was it Phantom? said his name was and spotted another matching one as well.

"B is going to kill us." Was the only thing Tim could muster up to say.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #tim x bernard #timxbernardxdanny #The trope of waking up married in Vegas #but with a twist #Tim was in Vegas for mostly a WE meetings #and brought his BF cause his bday was a few days later #and the rest of the fam couldnt go or had missions #so it was going to be a fun bday with his BF #Bernard encourages Tim to do dumb things sometimes #mostly to get Tim to put down the Vigilantly thoughts and just have fun #so its both a good and bad thing he does #but they do try to be safe about it #he encouraged the drinking so Tim can at least say he has gotten drunk at least once #tbh this is me. Ive gotten legit drunk twice in my entire life #and its been years since my last actual drink tbh #Anyways they meet Danny at the bar #whose taking a small vacation time away from the Realms #Danny started chatting with them and they all got kinda tipsy #well Bernard and Tim were a lot more than Danny #and Danny wanted to kinda join them and suggested a ghost bar #and the rest well... It all kinda just happens

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pucksandpower · 6 months

Note

is there a possibility of a part two on the mv1 vegas wedding, perhaps how they might have church wedding ? 🥹🥹 it was just so sickly sweet, i cant get enough of it 🤧🫶

There is definitely a possibility of a part two (though this is a little shorter than my usual work so we can also just call it a second epilogue)

Read part one here: What Happens in Vegas

You stand in front of the floor length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing white dress. Today you’re finally getting the real wedding you missed out on during that wild night in Vegas.

A pair of tiny hands suddenly grab at the tulle skirts of your dress. You look down to see your flower girl and daughter, two-year-old Vega, grinning up at you.

“Mama pwetty!” She declares. You scoop her up and kiss her cherub cheek.

“Why thank you, my love! But not as pretty as you in your special dress.”

Vega giggles and squirms to be put down so she can toddle around in her poufy flower girl outfit. You take a deep breath, heart swelling with love for your family.

A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. “Knock knock! Ready to go become Mrs. Verstappen again?”

You take Vega’s hand and turn to your dad with a radiant smile. “Absolutely. How do I look?”

Your father presses a hand to his heart. “Oh honey ... you look absolutely beautiful. Max is going to bawl his eyes out.”

You laugh, feeling a few happy tears prick your own eyes. “Let’s just hope that Daniel doesn’t mess up his lines too badly. Did you see the Elvis costume he was begging to wear?”

Your father chuckles. “Don’t worry, I talked him into a normal tux. He promised to be on his most professional behavior as officiant today.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you joke. “Really though, thank you for standing by me through all the craziness these past few years. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this for real.”

He pulls you into a careful hug so as not to wrinkle your dress. “I’m just so happy for you and Max. Now come on, let’s get you married again!”

The ceremony is being held outside at a gorgeous vineyard, rows of vines dripping with grapes serving as the perfect backdrop. Your heartbeat quickens as the music swells and Vega heads down the aisle, haphazardly tossing rose petals from her little basket.

Then it’s your turn.

On your father’s arm, you glide towards the floral archway where a nervous but beaming Max waits. The love shining from his eyes when he sees you takes your breath away all over again.

Daniel stands at his side looking polished in his suit, though his hair maintains its signature wild curls. He winks at you as you take your place across from Max beneath the arch.

“Family and friends,” Daniel begins, “we are gathered here today to witness the renewal of vows between Y/N and Max. Their first wedding may have been, shall we say, unconventional—”

“You mean drunk and hasty!” Someone calls out. Laughter ripples through the guests.

Daniel grins. “Yes, thank you Lando. But today we celebrate Y/N and Max formalizing their union after three wonderful years of marriage.”

He turns to Max. “Do you, Max, reaffirm your vow to love and cherish Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife, in plenty and want, in joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?”

Max gazes into your eyes. “I do, absolutely.”

Daniel repeats the question to you. You blink back joyful tears. “I do, with all my heart.”

“Wonderful!” Daniel says. “Now, the couple has prepared their own vows to share today.”

He gestures to Max, who clears his throat and takes both your hands in his.

“Y/N, that crazy night in Vegas, I never could have imagined where it would lead us. The past two years as your husband have been the best of my life. Every day with you and our daughter is a gift.”

Max’s voice cracks with emotion. “You are my rock, my inspiration, my very best friend. Thank you for taking a chance on me then and choosing to recommit to our partnership today.”

He dabs at his eyes as Daniel prompts you for your vows. You have to take a steadying breath around the balloon of love swelling in your chest.

“Max, what can I say? You’ve turned this reckless whim into the love story of a lifetime. Being your wife and mother of your child are the greatest honors I could imagine.”

You squeeze his hands, voice thick with feeling. “You challenge me, support me, and make me laugh and love more than I ever thought possible every single day. I vow to keep racing into the future with you by my side.”

There’s not a dry eye left as Daniel concludes the ceremony. “By the power vested in me by BecomeAnOfficiantIn20Minutes dot com, I now pronounce you man and wife … again!”

Max sweeps you into a deep kiss as your loved ones erupt into cheers. Vega toddles up to tug on your dress, wanting in on the family hug. You scoop her up and press kisses all over her face as Max wraps his arms around you both.

It’s a perfect moment.

The reception is a joyful and hilarious blur. At one point Max pulls you aside, nodding to where Vega is passed out in her godfather Christian’s arms after tiring herself out dancing.

“Can you believe we made that perfect little girl together?” Max murmurs.

You shake your head wonderingly. “She’s the best surprise to come out of that crazy night.”

Max kisses your temple. “I would marry you a hundred more times if it means I got to relive this journey with you over and over.”

You lean into him contentedly. However unorthodox the start of your relationship was, you’ve built an incredible life together.

And it’s only just beginning.

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

Text

tiktoks on the paddock

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: tiktoks about the paddock are fun

word count: 873

warnings: none

note: enjoy :) it’s a bit short…

masterlist / taglist

The paddock, a place where many things are happening all at once. And phew, for y/n it’s like a feast for content. She loves filming everything and collecting memories. Her TikToks are an absolute favourite by the fans. Loving the content of all the drivers and her.

At the Australian GP, where she finally met Danny again, she wanted to do a TikTok with him. „Please Danny, please do a TikTok with me. I don’t even have to post it, it’s just for me and you“, she pleaded with puppy-dog-eyes and how could anyone ever say no to that face. „Alright, what do we have to do?“ - „Let’s do that one.“

Just guess how many tries it took to finally have a good result. 27 tries, 27! Daniel kept laughing or people would walk in and they had to restart the whole thing.

„Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, please be serious!“ - Oh oh, y/n just called me by my full name, this can’t be good“, he muttered. „Just try please“, she begged him. She loved his laugh, but he did it every time. Okay, she had laughed for the first few tries as well, only because he had laughed, but still.

And then Lando walked in: „Whatcha guys doin?“, y/n did not seem impressed. „Lando, you just walked into our TikTok and now we have to start again, do you know how long this takes?“, her voice serious and stern. Lando put his hands above his head and surrendered. He kind of wanted to ask to be apart of the TikTok, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he didn’t.

As they finally managed to make a decent take, she was so happy. Doing her happy dance like she did as a little child. Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, the younger driver was just adorable. „Thank you Danny!“ She went and hugged the reserve driver. „Aw, you’re very welcome, y/n.“

And she always did a ‚get ready with me for paddock‘ TikTok, the fans love it.

„Okay guys, hello and welcome to my GRWM for the Miami GP! I am so excited! The Americans always make this huge deal out of the grand prix‘s and we’ll see how it’ll turn out this year.“ She looked into the camera of her phone, seeing her own figure. „Let’s see, I know that Lewis is gonna wear a sequinned purple jumpsuit, should we match him or do our own thing?“ Her hands were both placed on the sides of her head, squishing it, as if this would produce more ideas.

She didn’t pack that many outfits, only recently gotten into fashion, because of Lewis, duh. But you could describe her style as 70s or early 80s kind of pop-rock style, with some floated pants and vintage pieces. It wasn’t unique, she knew that, but it was what made her comfortable in her own body, thats the main reason why she wore it.

„The temperature will be high today and I don’t feel like sweating before the race. I will do that enough during. Hmm, let’s look.“

„I think I’m gonna go with these pants“, she held up some blue pleaded pants. „Yes ohh, and definitely my Rolling Stones shirt. It looks like something Harry would wear!“ That shirt was probably as old as her, she bought it in an old vintage store in Vegas in 2022.

„Oh and maybe Lily has some nice shoes for me and a bag! Let’s go ask her!“ She took the phone off the nightstand and stormed out of her hotel room. She lightly knocked on Alex‘ room and he opened. „Hey y/n, what can I do for ya?“ - „Is Lily here?“, she didn’t even said hello to him. He was taken back for a moment, but he already knew that his girlfriend was higher on y/n‘s list. „Uh yeah, she’s here.“ She pushed him aside and went into the hotel room.

„Lily, say hi to my TikTok“, she pointed her phone at the chines golfer. The spoken to just waved and looked a bit confused. „Lily, my dear, I want to wear these pants and that shirt, do you have some shoes for me?“ She looked at the older girl. „Yes, I have the perfect shoes and a bag that would look so lovely on you“, Lily was excited, always wanting to dress up the young driver.

She gave her some brown faux leather shoes with a little bit of heel. And a brown bag. She also found a hat that would look good on her. Together with some accessories, y/n was ready for the paddock (and finished with her TikTok).

Later that day, the media talked about her outfit and how it looks like something Harry Styles would wear. She was happy to see that they saw who inspired the whole look.

She didn’t do the GRWM often, but what she did was the whole trend stuff, sign her up for some funny filters, who’d she pick to be her Hogwarts Parents or some stupid dances she saw on her For You Page. She was obsessed with TikTok. She usually spent two hours before she went to sleep on TikTok. But who doesn’t.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan

#tiktok #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fernando alonso #genz driver #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #female driver #gen z

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vhstown · 9 months

Text

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn��t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

#miles 42 x reader #42!miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #atsv fanfiction #across the spiderverse #atsv x you #42!miles x reader #atsv #prowler miles x you #prowler miles x reader #prowler miles #vhstown

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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Text

Road drip - BLURB

In which Spencer fingers fem!reader in the car

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex(m)

You and Spencer would be driving a long way to Vegas to visit his mom. You both were tired from being awake all night.

Spencer’s hand would be on your thigh, squeezing occasionally to keep you and him awake. He would be glancing at them missing the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his wrist when he fingered you.

His fingers would start creep lower and lower. “Spence what are you doing?” You would ask blushing. He would just keep his eyes on the road with a smirk on his lips. Soon, he would let his fingers dip under the waistband of your pants. You would clutch the arm rest and swallow hard as his fingers rubbed slowly over your clit. “You’re dripping.” He would chuckle. His fingers circled your entrance as you moaned his name over and over again.

You begged him for his fingers and he gave them to you, adding a second and maybe even a third. “Fuck, I’m coming.” You would moan loudly. After you came, he licked your juices off of his fingers.

“Are you good at concentrating?” You’d ask. When he answered yes, she leaned over the armrest and sucked his dick, letting him get his release too.

———————

Anyway— I would love to suck Spencer off in a car.

THIS IS A BLURB THAT IS NOT A PART OF MY FEBRUARY REQUESTS!!! Also this is my first ever blurb and idk how to not write a lot so tell me if this is too long for a blurb lol

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #crimimal minds #spencer x you

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wrenreid · 1 year

Text

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline. "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

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