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jungwnies · 2 months ago

Text

f1 grid | hubby or daddy

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by) : calls the driver husband or daddy to see their reaction

୨ৎ : tws : slightly suggestive for some drivers ୨ৎ : word count : 1506

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i loved writing this and i had so many fun figuring out if they'd react to daddy or husband more, i love writing these slightly suggestive things its so funny LMFAO

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

“daddy, can you pass me my water bottle?” you say casually, not even looking up.

max freezes like a Windows 98 computer. the air is suddenly dense.

“what did you just call me?” he asks, blinking slowly, head tilted like he misheard.

you repeat it, and max mutters, “say it again.”

acts like it didn’t affect him, but he’s silent for the next ten minutes because his brain is buffering.

yuki tsunoda

you drop it while sitting on his lap, playing with his hoodie string. “thank you, daddy.”

yuki BLUSHES but grins so hard his cheeks hurt.

“okay wait—i kinda love that,” he admits, pulling you closer.

immediately makes it his entire personality.

saves your contact as “y/n 😈 (calls me daddy).”

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

“my sweet husband, can you grab the keys?” you toss over your shoulder on the way out.

george fumbles whatever he’s holding. literally goes still.

“that’s... really sweet, actually,” he says, all soft.

brings it up later like “so hypothetically... if we were married…”

kimi antonelli

“ah, this is my husband.” you say introducing him to one of our friends.

pauses, looks at you, then just melts.

“do you mean that?” he asks shyly, trying not to smile too hard.

acts cool, but he’s red as hell.

whispers it to himself later like a mantra. “husband. her husband.”

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

“hubby,” you hum as you lean over his shoulder, voice sugar-sweet, “can you unzip my dress?”

charles turns to look at you, slow and deliberate, mouth parted just slightly.

“you can’t just say things like that and walk away,” he says, already following you.

blushes so easily when you call him husband in public though.

and when you say “daddy” one night instead—let’s just say the dress never got zipped back up.

lewis hamilton

you’re sprawled across the bed in just his t-shirt, smiling up at him. “what are you gonna do about it, daddy?”

lewis hums, smirks, doesn’t even flinch. “that’s what i like to hear.”

suddenly he’s setting his phone down, walking over like it’s a challenge.

“say it again. just once more.”

you don’t, but he definitely makes you later.

in private, he’s very soft though—will cup your cheek and whisper, “my baby’s got good taste.”

and in front of the team, if you dare tease him with it under your breath, he will smirk and shoot you that warning glance.

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

“husband,” you grin, peeking into his sim room with your arms crossed, “your wife is waiting.”

lando drops the controller like it burned him.

“don’t say it like that—unless you mean it,” he stammers, already flushed.

he tries to play it off with a laugh, but he’s so visibly soft it’s insane.

“wait, do it again. just once. maybe twice. actually, three more times?”

his phone contact for you becomes “wifey 💍” within ten minutes.

oscar piastri

“thanks for dinner, daddy,” you say casually while clearing your plate.

oscar chokes on his water. “sorry—what?”

it takes him a full minute to process and then suddenly he’s red from the neck up.

“you can’t—i mean. you can, but maybe warn me next time?”

starts overthinking it: does he look like a daddy? is that good? bad??

tells lando and immediately regrets it.

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

“see you at home, daddy,” you whisper as you lean in to kiss his cheek before a press conference.

doesn’t even blink when you say it—just smirks like he already knew.

tells lance about it like it’s a casual brag: “mi amor calls me daddy now.”

makes sure the world knows who you belong to with a hand around your waist and a certain look in his eye.

“say it again,” he’ll murmur when you’re alone. and when you do—yeah. game over.

lance stroll

“hubby, can you hand me the remote?” you ask, lounging on the couch, barely looking up.

lance freezes in place, halfway to the kitchen. “…you just call me husband?”

his whole face lights up like you proposed to him.

“you can say that again. actually, wait—no, don’t, i’ll cry.”

spends the next twenty minutes cuddled up to you repeating it back. insists on referring to himself as your husband from now on, joking or not.

ʚ・williams

alex albon

“thanks for dinner, daddy,” you say offhandedly, biting into your spring roll.

alex nearly chokes. stares at you like you just summoned a spirit in the room. “um. sorry. did you just…?”

starts laughing but you can see the blush creep up his neck.

“i—i don’t know if i like that. i mean. maybe?”

spends the rest of the night analyzing it like it’s a race strategy: “okay but in what context was it used?”

you say it again a week later, and he goes completely silent. you’re pretty sure he does like it.

carlos sainz

“you ready to go, papi?” you purr as you twirl the car keys on your finger.

he spins around so fast it’s like a reaction time drill.

absolutely lights up—this is his moment.

“ah, finally! i’ve been waiting for you to call me that!”

immediately starts flirting: “say it again, cariño. for me.”

will not stop calling himself your papi in texts.

insists you say it once before every race for good luck.

has never driven faster in his life after hearing it trackside.

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

“thanks for grabbing my stuff, husband,” you say as he walks in, arms full of your forgotten belongings.

nearly drops everything. his ears go red instantly. “wait—did you just…? i mean… do you mean it?”

tries to play it cool but he literally giggles. like, full chest laugh. “that’s—yeah, that’s cute. i like that.”

starts calling you “wifey” in return. tells the mechanics: “don’t mind me, just doing something for my wife.”

dead serious about it too—refers to you as “the mrs” now, even though you’re not married. his background is now you in his hoodie captioned “mrs. bearman.”

esteban ocon

“hubby,” you sigh, walking into the kitchen where he’s already made your coffee.

esteban turns around like you’ve just proposed. his whole face softens. “i like the sound of that.”

actually starts talking about wedding colors later that night. “we’d look good in cream, no?”

says it back in a whisper every time you say it—“yes, wifey?”

you don’t think you’ve seen him that smiley in ages.

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

“thanks for grabbing dinner, husband.”

he freezes in place with two takeout bags and a stunned expression. “wait, did you just…?”

looks like he just got told he won a championship. “that was… really cute. you can say that again.”

tries to hide how flustered he is by fiddling with the bags like they’re the most interesting thing on earth.

later that night, when you're brushing your teeth: “you know, husband has a nice ring to it.”

gets super soft every time you use it. when you’re out and someone asks if you’re married, he doesn’t correct them.

isack hadjar

“thanks for the snack, daddy.”

chokes on his water. “woah. woah, woah, woah—say that again?”

leans in so fast, you’re cornered by the fridge before you can pretend you didn’t say it. “nah, you started something.”

50/50 between smirking and fully malfunctioning.

acts cocky for the next ten minutes but then randomly blurts, “do you really mean it though?”

he wants to be your everything and hearing that word is short-circuiting his whole system.

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

“can you pass me that, hubby?”

he’s halfway through a sentence when you say it, and he just stops.

blinks. twice. then grins like a fox. “husband, huh?”

walks around repeating it all smug like: “hubby, husband, hubby—yeah, i like that.”

pulls you into a back hug in the kitchen, nuzzles your neck.

“say it again, bébé. c’mon.” changes your contact name to “ma femme 💍” immediately.

100% starts plotting your actual proposal without telling you.

franco colapinto

“what do you want to eat, daddy?”

you thought he was quiet before? not anymore.

this man revs to life like you just flipped a switch.

full smirk, head tilt, dark eyes, “ay no… don’t say that unless you mean it.”

casually leans against the counter but his grip on the edge is tight.

“you know what that does to me, right?”

will now 100% find every excuse to hear it again.

whisper it once while walking past him and you’re getting dragged back by the waist.

dead serious when he murmurs, “you shouldn’t tease like that, hermosa.”

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

“could you grab my phone, hubby?”

you say it all casual, like it’s nothing. nico freezes.

“hhubby?” he repeats, slow and low like he’s tasting the word.

a small chuckle, but he’s softening fast.

“you trying to kill me or something?”

watches you from across the room like he’s seeing something new.

walks up and kisses your temple with a quiet, “don’t stop.”

from that moment on, he starts practicing saying “my wife” under his breath like it’s a damn mantra.

says it to the barista on accident once and blushes like a teenager.

gabriel bortoleto

“thanks for dinner, husband.”

you don’t even look up when you say it. but he does.

melts. like instant goo. like putty in your hands.

can’t stop smiling. full dimples. boyish grin. sparkly eyes.

“you mean it?” he asks, all wide-eyed and shy.

literally takes your hand and kisses the back of it like a knight.

“if you keep saying that, i’m gonna get ideas, you know?”

changes his instagram bio to “future husband material” that night.

already imagining your last name with his. over and over.

3K notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 4 months ago

Text

— love language

summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out

Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.

You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.

Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.

“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.

You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”

“That he never used other than one time.”

You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."

Matt smirked. "Does it?"

"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."

Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."

You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"

"You stay over all the time?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.

---

Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”

Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”

You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.

"Really?" he murmured.

"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."

Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.

Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."

Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.

"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.

"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.

Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."

Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."

You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.

Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."

"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.

---

Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”

Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."

"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."

Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."

"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.

As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.

His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.

Karen barely blinked.

You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"

"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.

"Oh, I wish."

Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.

Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"

You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."

Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."

"Pretty much," you said smugly.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.

Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.

---

“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”

“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”

You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."

"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.

Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"

Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."

You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."

"Obviously."

Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.

"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."

You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."

Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”

“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”

Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"

"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"

"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."

The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.

You glanced at her. "Why?"

Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"

"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."

Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.

Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.

The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.

---

The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.

Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.

By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.

Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."

Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."

Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."

Matt smiled. "Used to it."

You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."

Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."

Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.

Neither of them said anything.

"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."

"Agreed," Karen said.

You nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.

---

You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”

Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"

You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."

Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."

"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"

Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."

"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."

"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."

Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."

"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."

"You say that like I have a choice."

"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.

Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time."

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."

"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.

You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."

Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."

---

The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.

You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."

Matt smirked. "I resent that."

"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.

Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."

You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."

"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.

You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."

"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."

Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."

"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.

As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.

You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.

"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.

You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"

Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."

Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."

Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."

Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.

---

By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.

"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.

"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."

Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."

You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."

Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."

You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."

Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."

You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."

Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."

You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."

"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."

You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."

---

“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”

Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”

“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.

Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"

"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"

Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"

"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."

Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."

You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.

"You’re not wearing any clothes."

You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."

Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."

"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.

Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"

You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"

Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."

You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."

Matt grinned. "Good to know."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"

Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.

Your missing shirt.

Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"

Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."

You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"

Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."

You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."

Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"

You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.

"Happy now?" you muttered.

Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

---

It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.

The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.

You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.

"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. "Are you?"

He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"

"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."

You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."

Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."

You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."

Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"

You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."

Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."

"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."

Matt smirked. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—hey!"

In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.

"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.

You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"

Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.

"Annoying?" he murmured.

You swallowed hard. "Distracting."

Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."

Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."

Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You closed the distance, kissing him properly.

Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.

"Matty," you murmured between kisses.

"Mm?"

"I thought we were taking a break."

"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."

Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

At least, you didn’t.

Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.

"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"

Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.

You froze.

Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.

"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.

Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."

Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"

Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."

Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."

Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."

"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.

Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.

"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"

Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."

You gaped at him. "Murdock."

He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"

Your face burned. "I started!?"

Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.

"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil born again #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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author-martinkblackwood · 6 months ago

Note

My boss, he's an Archivist... Long story. He's talked about a guy named von Raum before, but I don't know if he was, like, actually real? More like a character a friend would play? I don't know, I thought he was talking about a Dungeons and Dragons campaign for the longest time. Anyway, one of our mutual friends/coworkers found an old picture of him from college, and it reminded me of that.

How have you heard of him if you don't mind my asking?

Sorry, random question, but have you ever heard of someone named Jonathan Sims? Your, uhm, group seems a lot like the people he talks about being friends with in college.

If not that's fine too, I don't want to bother you!

- @author-martinkblackwood

Jonathan Sims… no, nobody I know. I think I might’ve heard the namd mentioned a few times, maybe? If I may ask, who is he?

#author martinkblackwood #martin murmurs #ooc: jon playing dnd? in my au? in MY ask blog?#its more likely than you think

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giuliannna · 8 months ago

Text

THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY

hamzah's too busy to help you out.

"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."

you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.

you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.

hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."

"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"

"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."

"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.

he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.

you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.

"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.

you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.

"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.

"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."

"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.

you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.

the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.

you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.

between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.

point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.

suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.

your hips come to a still.

“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.

“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”

hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.

he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.

you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.

he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”

your stomach floods with heat at his words.

“what?” you whisper.

“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”

“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.

“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”

you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.

he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.

he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.

but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.

it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.

you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.

“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”

“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.

you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.

starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.

but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.

it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.

your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.

your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.

a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.

with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.

“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.

you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.

“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.

“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.

it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.

he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.

he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.

he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.

“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”

all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.

“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.

he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.

his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”

"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."

"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this."

you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.

"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."

dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.

"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."

your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.

"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.

he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."

————————————————————

a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing more so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas

xo giulia

#giulianna ⁀➴#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #slushy noobz

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the-flaneur · 9 months ago

Text

silk ribbons and scraps of lace

pairing: f1 grid x reader [headcanon]

ft. lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, george russell

summary: your man loves it when you wear some lingerie, but what happens when you're not exactly wearing the right colours...

warnings: very suggestive AND 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> sexual foreplay, fingering

wc: 3860

[masterlist] [requests]

lewis

[you're wearing red bull lingerie]

lewis stepped out of the steamy bathroom, his chiselled physique glistening with water as he wrapped a plush towel around his waist. he froze mid-step when his gaze fell upon you, curves barely contained within a provocative red bull lingerie set. the azure fabric clung to your every dip and swell, highlighting your breasts and the tantalising v of your hips.

a look of shock crossed lewis' handsome face, his dark brows knitting together in disbelief. "what...the fuck?" he sputtered, clearly taken aback by this unexpected sight. his eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the erotic display before him. the driver's initial confusion slowly gave way to a growing arousal, his cock beginning to stiffen beneath the towel.

"i thought we agreed on mercedes branding only," he frowned, pressing slowly towards your waiting body on the bed. you giggled at his reaction, "oh come on, don’t be such a spoilsport! it’s just a little fun," you leaned closer, one hand pressing harshly against the quilt as you reach up to playfully tug at the towel draped low on his hips

"besides, i like how the blue really makes my skin pop" you say with a wink, letting your fingers graze the hardening bulge straining against the towel.

you spun around, your ass presented like a feast for his eyes. the thong leaving little to the imagination as you arch your spine, running hands down the side to cup your ass cheeks, "what do you think, babe? does it make me look good enough to ride on your mercedes?" you smirk.

a deep, rumbling chuckle escaped lewis' lips as he watched your playful antics; he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the tiny thong. the blue fabric seemed to glow against your skin, drawing attention to the tantalising curve of your ass. "you're certainly making a case for it," lewis murmured, his voice low and husky with lust. he allowed you to tug the towel free, letting it drop to the floor as his eyes devoured the sight of you nearly naked body.

“disappointed it’s not ferrari?” you laugh, watching him reaching for the thong before snapping it harshly back against your skin. moaning, his gaze remained fixed on you, drinking in the sight of your legs and the delicate lace of your bra

he reached out, his calloused fingertips tracing the edge of the red bull logo emblazoned across your chest. "i suppose we could make an exception, just this once," he purred, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak of your breast, making you gasp.

lewis leaned in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "after all, i'd hate to deny my girl the chance to show off her assets."

max

[you're wearing aston martin lingerie]

max had fumbled carelessly with the hotel keycard in the final hours of the night as he returned, but he was more alert than ever at the sight before him - you, his girlfriend, clad in provocative aston martin lingerie, sprawled seductively across the king-sized bed. the green ensemble hugged your curves like a second skin, emblazoned with metallic black stripes. a matching diamond choker encircled your neck, while thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels added an air of submission to your already alluring presence.

max's eyes widened, his initial unwariness swiftly replaced by arousal as he took in the stunning view. "what...what is this?" he asked, his deep voice laced with a mix of surprise and desire.

you smiled coyly, running a hand along the sleek fabric of the bodice, "just getting into the spirit of things, darling," you purred, slowly sliding off the bed to crawl towards him. your hips swayed hypnotically with each step, the lingerie clinging to every dip and curve.

max's gaze was transfixed, following the movement of your body, mesmerised. his breath quickened, and he felt his cock stir to life beneath the pants he had worn out to the restaurant with checo and other red bull personnel.

"i thought we could play a little game before bed," you continued, reaching out to trail a finger down his chest. "winner gets to choose the dessert later.” your touch sent shivers through him, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. "and what exactly is this game?" he asked, his voice husky with growing need.

you grinned up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, “one match of cod, then you can rip off the aston martin. otherwise i wear aston martin gear for fernando next race. he is my favourite driver after all,”

max's competitive nature flared to life at the challenge. "fine, let's do it," he agreed, a determined glint in his eye. "but i'm warning you, i'm not going easy just because you're looking sexy as hell."

as the familiar sounds of the game filled the room, you dove into the match, fingers flying across keyboards. sweat began to bead on max's brow, less from exertion than from the sheer eroticism of the situation. every so often, his gaze would drift to the tantalising display of flesh barely contained by your aston martin lingerie, making his pulse race and his resolve waver.

meanwhile, you remained focused, though you couldn't help but notice the growing bulge in max's pants as the minutes ticked by, “having problems there maxie boo?” you teased, leaning over to circle a finger over his zipper. max grunted at you in frustration, his usually steady hands trembling slightly as he tried to regain control of his character. the close quarters of the hotel room made it difficult to ignore the enticing scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat on his skin, further distracting him from the task at hand.

"shut up and keep playing," he muttered under his breath, shooting a half-hearted glare. despite his gruff demeanour, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, betraying his amusement at your teasing. you laughed lightly, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you expertly dispatched an enemy. "maybe you should focus more on the game and less on the view, hmm?"

max's jaw clenched, a surge of determination propelling him to concentrate harder on the screen. but it was a losing battle against your intoxicating allure, the way your breasts rose and fell with each breath and the tantalising glimpse of cleavage whenever you leaned forward.

his grip on the mouse tightened, knuckles turning white as he fought to maintain his composure. "i've got this," he growled, his character finally managing to flank and eliminate their final opponent.

“guess you won, want a reward now?”

with a triumphant grin, max grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his thick thighs, "i think it's time for me to rip off that delicious outfit," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. you bit your lip, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes as you reached behind your back and unclasped the bra, letting it fall away to reveal your breasts.

you grin and starts to pull at the zipper, revealing his impressive erection straining upwards. "mmm, looks like someone's ready for dessert," you purrs, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and giving it a slow, teasing stroke.

max groaned, his head falling back as your warm hand enveloped his rigid length. the sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. he watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you pumped him gently.

"once i get started, i don't stop until i'm satisfied," he warned, his voice strained with need.

emboldened by his words, you leaned in closer, hot breath fanning over his ear as you whispered, "then let's hope you're very, very hungry tonight." with that, you sank to your knees before him, lips parting to wrap around the swollen head of his cock.

charles

[you're wearing kick sauber lingerie]

charles' eyes widened in shock as he stared at the garish neon green lingerie adorning your body through the screen. "mon dieu," he muttered under his breath, clearly taken aback by the bold choice of attire. his gaze roamed over the bright, clashing colours, the tacky patterns, and the unflattering cut of the kick sauber set - each detail a testament to the outfit's egregious lack of style.

charles swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure despite the unsettling visual assault. he cleared his throat and attempted a diplomatic response, not wanting to hurt his lover's feelings. "ah, chérie...while i appreciate the, uh, enthusiasm behind your selection, perhaps we could find something a bit more...subdued for our next video call?" he offered a tentative smile, hoping to soften the blow of his criticism.

“i thought this would be fun, a little surprise for you. besides, it’s not like you’re gonna see me in public dressed like this. and technically i am repping your old team,” you giggled, leaning in closer to the camera, and giving him an eyeful of cleavage as the neon fabric stretched taut across your breasts.

charles' jaw clenched as you leaned in closer, the stretchy neon fabric accentuating your cleavage mere inches from the camera lens. despite his initial revulsion, he found himself captivated by the brazen display, his gaze lingering on the curves before reluctantly meeting your mischievous grin.

"ahh, mais oui, i remember now why i left sauber," he quipped dryly, attempting to deflect the attention from your provocative attire. however, the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying a hint of amusement beneath his exasperation.

you smirked again, pleased that your outfit had gotten such a reaction out of him, “i know you secretly love seeing me all dolled up in crazy outfits.” spinning around slowly, you gave him a full view of the neon green thong riding low on your hips and the matching garter belt holding up sheer stockings.

“besides, if you don’t like it, you can always cover your eyes while we talk…” you trailed off, whilst charles frantically grabbed his phone.

"non, non, i think i'll keep my eyes open," he replied, his voice taking on a huskier tone. "the, ahem, 'dressing' you've done here is quite...eye-catching." he paused, his gaze drifting back to your exposed cleavage before meeting your playful gaze once more.

"and i suppose it's only fair, considering how often you see me in those tight racing suits," charles added with a sly smirk, his mind undoubtedly wandering to the many intimate moments you had shared after a long race, "but perhaps we could find a compromise for future video calls?"

carlos

[you're wearing mercedes lingerie]

carlos stares at you, his eyes widening as they scanned your body clad in the tight-fitting biking gear, only to land on the provocative lingerie peeking out underneath. a visible shiver ran down his spine at the unexpected sight.

"what...what is this?" he stammered, trying to process the combination of athletic wear and lacy undergarments. his gaze lingered on the way the black and silver g-string peaked out from your shorts, accentuating your hips, before his eyes wandered back up to the silver cups visible beneath your bolero. carlos' face flushed a deep crimson, his racing heart pounding in his chest. the intense desire coursing through him was undeniable, yet so was the confusion. "we're supposed to go for a bike ride," he managed to say, his voice strained with arousal.

you gave him a sly smile, hands resting on your hips as you arched an eyebrow playfully. "oh, we are, mi amor," you purred, taking a step closer to him. "but first, i need you to help me adjust this."

you reached behind, slowly unclasping the laces of the bra top. the cold air reveals your hardened nipples, poking against the delicate material, "i think these might get in the way of my aerodynamics," you tease, giving the cups a gentle tug. they slip down, exposing bare skin to carlos' hungry gaze. you let the bra dangle around your wrist teasingly, the cool air causing my nipples to stiffen further.

carlos' breath hitched as he watched, transfixed, as you bared yourself to him. his mouth went dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes roamed over your newly exposed flesh. the way your pert nipples stood at attention, begging for his touch, nearly undid him right then and there. "fuck, you're driving me crazy," he groaned, his resolve crumbling under the onslaught of your seductive display. without thinking, he reached out to cup one of your breasts, thumb grazing over the sensitive peak. a low growl rumbled in his throat as he felt it stiffen further against his palm.

"you know i can't resist you like this," carlos admitted, his other hand coming up to gently squeeze the other breast, fingers rolling the nipple between them. "maybe we should skip the bike ride altogether..."

you tease him that you can't, you and his friends almost approaching your apartment for the ride. carlos' hands continued their exploration of your body, fingers dancing across your heated skin as he struggled to maintain control. but the mention of others waiting for you snapped him back to reality.

"we can't, not now," he agreed reluctantly, even as his cock twitched in his shorts, straining against the confines. "but maybe we can find a quick solution..."

with a mischievous glint in his eye, carlos bent down and captured one of your hardened nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle nibble before soothing it with his tongue. with your seductive moaning, he repeated the action on the other side, leaving you gasping and writhing against him.

"there, now you shouldn't have any aerodynamic issues. but find me after the ride, maybe we can work on them further," he said with a smirk, straightening up to admire his handiwork. your nipples were red and puffy, glistening with his saliva, just the way he liked them.

lando

[you're wearing haas lingerie]

lando sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as you sauntered over, a sly smile playing on your lips. the early morning light danced across your curves, accentuating the lacy red and white lingerie hugging your body like a second skin.

his eyes widened as they roamed over your barely concealed assets, a flicker of lust igniting within him. but then, a shadow crossed his features, his brow furrowing in displeasure. he set down his cup with a clatter.

"you can't wear that," lando stated firmly, his voice low and commanding. "those colours aren't mine," he reached out, his fingers brushing against the delicate fabric of your lingerie, tracing the white stripes that contrasted so boldly with the deep crimson.

your cheeks flushed at lando's stern rebuke, but there was an undercurrent of excitement beneath your surprise. his touch sends shivers down your spine, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin lace.

"i thought... well, i wanted to show my support," you stammered, biting your lip. the intensity in his gaze made it hard to focus on anything else. lando leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "my team wears papaya, love. not this...american red and white." his hand slid lower, cupping your ass through the sheer material. "mclaren girls know how to dress properly."

he gave your rear a firm squeeze, pulling you flush against his growing arousal. "now, why don't you change into something more appropriate... for your boyfriend's taste?"

you trembled slightly under lando's dominant touch, your heart racing at the dark possession in his tone. the rough calluses on his fingers scraped deliciously against your sensitive skin as he groped you, "i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to disrespect your team," you breathed, pressing yourself wantonly against the thick bulge now straining in his track pants. "i just wanted to look sexy for you..."

your hands slid up his muscular chest to loop around his neck. you arched your back, pushing your breasts together enticingly above the scalloped edge of your bra. the flimsy lace did little to conceal your hardening nipples.

"what if i told you i'd wear mclaren colours later? would that make you happy, handsome?" you purred sultrily, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

a low growl rumbled in lando's chest as he felt your soft curves moulding against his abs. his large hands gripped your hips, kneading the supple flesh as he ground his cloth-covered erection against your core.

"that's more like it, princess," he murmured approvingly, nipping at your earlobe. "but i think you need a reminder of who you belong to first."

in one swift motion, lando stood, sweeping you up into his strong arms. he carried you bridal style towards the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. depositing you on the plush mattress, he crawled over you with a predatory gleam in his eye.

"i'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't even remember what other colors look like," he promised darkly, hooking his thumbs into your panties.

oscar

[you're wearing alpine lingerie]

as oscar stepped through the front door of his melbourne childhood home, he's greeted by the tantalising sight of you standing before him in the foyer. your alpine lingerie clings to your curves, the pink and blue hues a bold statement against your skin. the delicate lace trim and sheer panels leave little to the imagination, showcasing your pert nipples and thighs.

oscar's eyes widen slightly as he takes in the provocative ensemble, a mix of surprise and arousal flickering across his features. he clears his throat, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance despite the obvious effect you're having on him.

"uh, nice... outfit?" he ventures hesitantly, his gaze drifting back to your body as if drawn by an unseen force. as oscar's eyes roam over your nearly naked form, you notice a visible bulge forming in his shorts. his cheeks flush a deep crimson, betraying his attempts to appear unaffected by your seductive display.

"i mean…you look... very pretty," oscar stammers, taking a tentative step closer. his voice drops an octave, heavy with desire. he reaches out a hand, lightly brushing a finger along the edge of the lingerie's lace trim. a shiver runs down your spine at the intimate contact, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

"i thought you'd appreciate the nod to my favourite f1 team," you reply coyly, arching an eyebrow, "even if you definitely don't share the same enthusiasm."

oscar chuckles softly, his touch lingering on the delicate fabric of your lingerie. "well, i suppose even a formula one driver can appreciate a beautiful woman, regardless of her allegiances." his other hand comes up to cup your chin, tilting your face towards his. oscar's lips brush against yours in a gentle, teasing kiss. when he pulls back, his eyes smoulder with barely contained lust.

oscar's hands slide down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against his rigid length. "but let's be real, baby," he murmurs against your ear, nipping at the lobe playfully. "you could wear the colours of any team and still manage to turn me on like this."

his hot breath fanning over your skin as he steps back to admire you fully. "wanna make me like alpine again?" oscar teases, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh, edging higher with each passing second. "because right now, all i can think about is how good you taste..."

he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his digits brush against your slick folds. oscar groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "christ, you're soaked already," he marvels, circling your clit with deliberate slowness. "maybe we should start with getting you out of those panties..."

george

[you're wearing vcarb lingerie]

the meeting room was filled with hushed conversations and stern faces as high-level executives debated new marketing strategies. amidst this sea of seriousness, you discreetly pulled out your phone, your heart racing with anticipation.

with a quick tap, you sent the provocative photo to george, which you had taken earlier this morning, before you had both left for work. in the image, you wore nothing but a lacy blue vcarb lingerie set, the delicate fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. your breasts were barely contained within the cups, and the panties left little to the imagination.

as you hit send, a sly smile played on your lips. you knew the risks - what if someone noticed? what if george didn't respond right away? but the thrill of the clandestine act sent shivers down your spine.

minutes ticked by, each one an eternity as you waited for his reply.

suddenly, your phone buzzed with an incoming text. george's name flashed on the screen, accompanied by a winking emoji. your pulse quickened as you opened the message.

"i'm going to need a closer look at those vcarbs. official gpda business of course," he wrote, followed by several emojis, "meet me in the parking garage after the meeting."

a rush of heat flooded through you at his bold suggestion. this was definitely not part of your original plan, but the idea of sneaking off to indulge in some forbidden pleasure with your secret lover was too enticing to resist. you glanced around the room, ensuring no one had noticed your exchange. satisfied, you typed back, "i'll be waiting, but make it fast. we both know how strict they can be about employee conduct. especially with you,"

fifteen minutes later, the meeting adjourned and attendees began filing out of the conference room. you lingered behind, feigning interest in some marketing materials on the table while keeping a watchful eye on the clock. finally, the last stragglers departed, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering scent of expensive leather. you gathered your things and made your way to the elevators, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor.

in the dimly lit parking garage, you spotted george leaning against his sleek silver mercedes. his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a hungry gleam in their depths. he straightened up, his tailored suit accentuating his body.

"flattery will get you everywhere," you purred, pressing yourself against him. the cool metal of the car seemed to sear your skin as you moulded your body to george's. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his hard chest. george's hands roamed over your curves, tracing the edges of your blue lingerie. "i've been thinking about these all meeting," he whispered hotly in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. without waiting for a response, george palmed his hands under your skirt, before slowly tugging down your panties, watching them as they fell to the floor. left bare before him, you felt a surge of vulnerability mixed with excitement.

"you look even more stunning than the photo," george murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. george's gaze raked over your exposed flesh, his eyes darkened with lust, thumb grazed your clit, making you gasp.

"you're playing with fire here," you warned, even as your hips tilted forward, seeking more of his touch. "we could get caught..."

"but that's half the thrill, isn't it?" george countered, his fingers dipping beneath the skirt again to tease your slick folds. "imagine the scandal if we got caught fucking in the company garage."

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @chick-from-nz @princessminjikwon

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venmondiese · 9 months ago

Text

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man.

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one.

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard”

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?”

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-”

Great.

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette.

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well.

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass.

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard.

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face.

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself.

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan.

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt.

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths.

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath.

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit.

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper.

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth.

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock.

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock.

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane.

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more.

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth.

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it.

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum.

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side.

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly.

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated.

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window.

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse.

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes”

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care.

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten”

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk.

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies.

#martin (in the modern world) x reader #martin in the modern world #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #martin (in the modern world) fanfic #martin (in the modern world) fanfiction #ewan mitchell verse #ewanverse #fontaines d.c.#aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen #martin lefevre #martin lefevre x reader

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houseofaegon · 5 months ago

Text

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 1 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: God bless Milo Manheim!!!!!!!!!! I love this idea of having a bucket list of things they want to do before crossing over. It might be cool to make it into a series. idk. We'll see. :) For now, enjoy!! I hope you guys like it. <3 xoxo, nai.

Word count: 1714

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn.

masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Wally had been wandering the halls of the school, bored out of his mind, his thoughts drifting aimlessly as he just tried to make it through another day—not that he ever expected much on a normal one, at least. But then, there were those days. The ones that turned into trouble. The kind of trouble that you made happen.

It didn't really take much to turn an average boring day into something unforgettable when you were involved. You were the life of the party. You and Wally? Every single time you two were together, trouble seemed to follow.

And today? Today was no different.

You had both made a promise long ago: make eternity fun. It was a pact, a way to deal with the fact that you two were dead, with no going back to your old lives. So, you'd sworn to make the most of every single day, even if it meant causing chaos along the way.

You'd even written down an entire bucket list with him. Wally named it "100 things to do before crossing over." You two hadn't really crossed off many of the things you'd written down; some of them were not very possible, given the fact that you two couldn't really leave the school grounds. But that didn't stop you from trying to make every day feel like it mattered.

After walking aimlessly around the school, Wally finally spotted you, sprawled out on the bleachers of the football field. The sun was making your skin glow, and despite the fact that you couldn't tan anymore, you still seemed to soak up every single ray as if you were trying to relieve the feeling of it. One arm draped over your eyes, one leg over the other. Wally smiled; you always found a way to look effortlessly cool and beautiful, even in moments like this.

Wally climbed up the steps, settling on the one just below you, his eyes studying you. "We're gonna have field day in an hour," he said, his voice light. "Mr. Martin wants to do something...different. A bonfire or whatever. I don't know. Rhonda told me."

But you didn't respond. Your silence made him arch an eyebrow.

"You good?" he asked, his tone shifting to a more serious now. He wasn't too used to you being so quiet.

You opened your eyes, lazily glancing at him. “Just thinking,” you murmured, your voice soft.

“Dangerous,” he teased, though he could tell something was off. You smiled at him, rolling your eyes, but he noticed they didn't have that usual sparkle.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again, a little more worried now.

You propped yourself up, your gaze flickering to the school building for a moment before focusing back on him. “Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier this time. “I’ve just been thinking about that list we made.”

“The one with a hundred things we’re supposed to do before crossing over?” Wally asked, smirking. “We’re halfway through, but there’s still plenty of time left.”

He watched your expression closely, trying to figure out what was going through your head, but you were unreadable as ever.

You shook your head. “We haven’t really crossed off much…” You trailed off for a second, your gaze flicking to the sky before you let out a sigh. “I just feel like... days are getting boring, Wally.”

He tilted his head. “Well, let’s do something not boring, then. Something stupid.”

“Define stupid.” You raised an eyebrow.

Wally’s lips curled into that signature cocky grin. The one that always meant he was about to take things to another level.

“Number 16,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

“Do you expect me to remember?” You shot back, trying to act nonchalant, but there was a flutter of excitement in your chest.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Skinny dipping, dumbass.”

You froze for a moment, processing his words. Your mind raced, the idea catching you off guard. It was reckless, a little insane—but totally on brand for the two of you.

"You're serious?" you asked, staring at him with a mix of disbelief.

Wally leaned forward slightly, his voice low, his gaze burning with that familiar mischievous fire. “Dead serious.”

You couldn’t help it. A wicked smile spread across your face as you locked eyes with him. It was just a stupid thing to do. Just another one of your meaningless games. No harm in it, right?

"You're insane," you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself off the bleacher to stand right in front of him. You looked down at him, your gaze meeting his with a challenge in your eyes.

Wally just shrugged. “Yeah, well, eternity wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t at least a little bit insane.” His eyes traced the curve of your body, the unspoken tension between you both suddenly feeling palpable, thick in the air.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the heat that seemed to spark between you both. “I swear you’ll get us caught.” You half joked, but the wild idea was starting to feel too good to back away from.

“Let’s make it quick then,” he replied. “We’ll make sure no one sees us.”

"I swear, Wally, if we get caught... I'll kill you," you warned, your voice a mix of a playful threat.

Wally chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "You wouldn't," he teased, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "Besides, it's not like anyone's out there anyway. Everyone's off by the bonfire, telling ghost stories or whatever it is they do. We're fine. I'm sure they won't miss us."

You shot him a skeptical look, doubting if you should agree to it but you craved the adrenaline more.

"Come on," he grinned, grabbing your hand. "Let's go have some fun."

The thrill and the adrenaline coursed through you as you followed him, letting him guide you through the school. Wally was always the one to get you into trouble, but you couldn't deny how much you loved it.

As you both snuck through the hallways, being very careful to avoid Rhonda, Charley, Mr. Martin, or anyone who might spot you. You both could hear the muffled sounds of chatter echoing from the field.

When you finally reached the indoor pool, Wally paused at the entrance, opening the door slowly, and scanning the room. It was empty. The sun was almost gone, and the full moon shone brightly through the roof, illuminating the pool in a way that made the entire space feel almost otherworldly.

Wally turned back to you, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we have the place all to ourselves."

"Good," you smiled. "Kinda wanted some alone time, y'know?"

Wally's smile grew bigger, his gaze deepening. He took a step closer to you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I was actually thinking the same thing," he said, his voice low, more intimate. There was a flicker of something between you, a feeling that had been there for a while but neither of you had ever acknowledged it. "Just you and me."

"Just you and me," you repeated slowly, the words lingering in the air between you two.

For a second, everything faded away. The pool, the school, the world—it all felt distant, like a memory. It was just you and him, standing there in the moonlit pool, the adrenaline cursing through your veins.

Wally's hand was still intertwined with yours; his touch was warm, and even though you were technically dead, you still felt alive in moments like this. His gaze never left yours as he stepped closer, his breath becoming quicker.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice a mix of excitement and something else, something deeper, though it was hard for you to place.

You met his gaze and smirked. "Dead serious."

Wally's lips curled into a grin, there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes and it made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze on you caused your head to spin, his presence was overwhelming. He leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Just us?"

"Mhm," you nodded, your gaze never leaving his.

There was a subtle shift in Wally's demeanor, a possessiveness in the way he looked at you, but it wasn't the kind that felt controlling, it was the kind that made you feel like he was claiming this moment, claiming you, without saying a word. The air grew heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts, you couldn't really tell if it was the adrenaline or something else, but you felt your heart pound louder in your chest.

"Yeah?" Wally repeated, a challenging tone lacing his voice, his smile never wavered. He stepped a little bit closer, closing the distance between you, his body just a fraction of an inch from yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension between you so strong, so thick you could almost touch it.

You tilted your head slightly, feeling the weight of his gaze, how it seemed to pierce right through you, taking in every single inch of you. His pupils were wide, dark, hungry, and the intensity of his stare made your heart race faster than before.

There was no going back now.

And honestly? You did not want to.

"Yeah," you whispered, a little breathless, words barely escaping your lips.

Just you and him, no distractions, no one to come between you two, no rules, no secrets, no limits.

Just you and him.

"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

This might actually be the worst idea you've ever had. You'd suggested skinny dipping as a joke, both drunk and laughing while writing the list, not actually expecting him to go forward with it.

But here you were, bodies so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the air thick, almost suffocating. His eyes so dark, filled with something you couldn't quite describe, but you knew this wasn't just about a dare anymore.

This wasn't just a game.

It was about to become something entirely different, something that could change everything, ruin everything, but... maybe, just maybe, you wanted it to.

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author-martinkblackwood · 15 days ago

Note

Ya talkin shit about me?

-Jonny D'Ville ((Cursed Crow's Count))

No, Jonny. No one is talking shit about you. And even if we were, it'd be for good reason.

Martin- You wanted to talk to a Jonny? Here.

I- Uhm... Thanks? Hello?

#author martinkblackwood #jon's jabbering #martin murmurs #anon ask #asks and answers #ooc: jon despising the character of jonny dville is one of my personal favorite things

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author-martinkblackwood · 22 days ago

Text

I'll sleep when I fall over. Which could honestly be any minute now. ... Yeah. Keep in touch. Stay safe. That goes for you too, Jon. Please. Stay safe. Don't even think about going into the tunnels.

... We'll have to go back down there. Eventually.

I'm not thinking about that right now. Get some rest.

Where is that damned trap door?

(A clattering, a tape recorder falls to the ground. A key falls to the floor as someone startles)

Where the hell did that come from?

There shouldn't be anyone here.

#author martinkblackwood #martin murmurs #jon's jabbering #sasha's recorder #jon's record

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oaksgrove · 3 months ago

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Still Home

Pairing: John Price x Reader (Established Marriage)

Synopsis: Years have passed, and the house has changed with time—but the love inside it never has. John Price, older now, slower perhaps, still loves you with the same fire he had when it all began. Through lazy mornings, holidays filled with chaos, and quiet evenings curled on the couch, this is the story of a lifetime of love that never stopped growing.

Warnings: Heavy fluff, established relationship, aging, emotional intimacy, domestic comfort, family life, nostalgia and warmth, implied canon divergence, lots of soft kissing and affection.

The house had aged, but it wore the years kindly. The white picket fence had faded to a mellow ivory. The front steps creaked just a bit louder in the winter. And the rose bush by the kitchen window—planted on a spring afternoon not long after you moved in—now curled up toward the eaves, a cascade of soft pink blooms that never failed to bloom first on your anniversary.

The front room was warm, even in the chill of late autumn. The old couch was threadbare on the corners, soft where it mattered, and still just the right size for two people who never seemed to mind being close.

You sat curled against John’s side, your legs draped over his lap, book in hand, glasses low on your nose. His arm was around your shoulder, warm and steady, his hand tracing lazy circles on your arm like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. The kind of touch that came after decades of knowing someone’s skin better than your own.

John sipped from his chipped navy mug, the one that said World’s Okayest Tea Brewer—a Father’s Day gift from your daughter, smudged slightly from years in the dishwasher. His beard was more salt than pepper now, his frame broader with age, slower in movement but still powerful in presence. That same commanding steadiness. That same protective warmth that once made you fall fast and foolishly, back when you were just two young souls tumbling headfirst into a forever neither of you fully understood yet.

“Cold in here, love?” he asked, voice low and warm, eyes flicking to the window, where the wind tapped at the glass.

“Not with you here,” you murmured, not looking up from your book.

He smiled, and it creased the corners of his eyes just like it used to, only now the lines were deeper—earned, not worn. “Still got that silver tongue.”

“Still fall for you every time,” you replied, soft and true.

He leaned in and kissed your temple, lingering for a second longer than necessary. You hummed. You always did.

Even after all these years, the house held the echoes of your lifetime.

The hallway was a gallery of portraits—framed school photos, vacation candids, weddings, the kids’ graduations. There was one from your thirtieth anniversary in the center of it all: you in a soft blue dress, John in a suit that never quite fit right anymore, your grandchildren laughing wildly in front of you while your children tried (and failed) to pose them properly.

Down in the laundry room, there was a wall that neither of you could bring yourselves to paint over. The pencil lines still climbed the plaster beside the doorway, names and ages scrawled in two different handwritings—Martin and Ellie, their heights recorded every birthday from age one to eighteen. You’d watched them pass each other up, centimetre by centimetre. You still ran your fingers over the lines sometimes when you were down there folding towels, and John always smiled when he caught you.

“They still come home,” you’d said just last week, your chin on his shoulder as you both stood there staring at the wall. “Even now. They come back.”

“They always will,” he said, his voice full of quiet certainty. “It’s home.”

Their rooms had changed over the years. No more posters or glow-in-the-dark stars. The beds had been replaced with guest mattresses, the desks with shelves for books and folded blankets. But there were still old toy boxes in the closets. A few forgotten jackets on the hooks. And whenever the family came over—loud and sprawling and full of chaos—they all still knew where their place was.

The holidays were dangerous in the best way. The grandkids groaned every year about how “gross” you two were.

“Mum, Dad’s staring at her like he’s twenty again,” Martin had complained, mock-suffering, one Christmas Eve while John was cutting vegetables with one hand and gently stroking your back with the other.

“She winked at him. WINKED. I’m emotionally scarred,” Ellie once declared, covering her children’s eyes like it was a scandalous soap opera.

But they always smiled when they said it. Because there was something achingly comforting about the way you and John looked at each other. Like there was no one else in the room. Like the love hadn’t aged a day.

And truthfully—it hadn’t. It had just… deepened. Stretched out into the quiet corners of your life. Into late-night grocery runs. Into slow Sunday mornings. Into the way he tucked your reading glasses into your book when you dozed off, or the way you brewed his tea exactly how he liked it, even after forty years of arguments over the “right” amount of sugar.

Even now, as the wind picked up outside and the lights dimmed in the living room, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his body under yours, the rhythm of his breathing, and the quiet murmur of his voice.

“Still happy?” he asked you once, voice so soft you almost missed it.

You looked up from your book, tilted your head, and smiled at the man who had loved you through everything—war, children, quiet nights, wild ones, wrinkles and graying hair and all.

“More than I ever thought I could be,” you said.

And he kissed you.

Not because it was habit.

Not because the kids were gone and you finally had the house to yourselves again.

But because after all this time, he still couldn’t help it.

Because loving you was the only thing that ever came easy to John Price.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth @kittygonap @rainyjellybear @anonymouse1807 @twoandahalfdimes

#call of duty fanfic #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod 141 #task force 141 #john price x reader #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price #cod john price #captain price x reader #captain johnathan price #jonathan price #retired!john price

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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f1 grid | first kiss

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : first kisses with the grid

୨ৎ : word count : 800

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : an on-time upload.. woah T-T

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

he hesitates for a second, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s making sure this is okay. then it’s slow, a little intense, and he lingers like he’s memorizing the way you taste. no teasing—just genuine, quiet passion.

yuki tsunoda

it’s sudden, right in the middle of you laughing too hard. he grabs your face, flustered and bold, and kisses you before he can overthink it. pulls back all red and goes, “shut up,” even though you weren’t even talking.

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

the kind of kiss that feels like a promise. it’s after a long night, when you’re both a little tired and he’s looking at you like he can’t believe you’re real. hand on your waist, forehead pressed to yours, and then he leans in.

kimi antonelli

nervous, soft, and clumsy in the sweetest way. he’s grinning before and after, probably says something dumb like “that wasn’t too bad, huh?” but his ears are so red and he won’t stop smiling for hours.

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

a little breathless, full of build-up. he brushes your hair behind your ear, eyes searching yours, then leans in like he’s giving in to something he’s felt for ages. kisses you like he’s saying finally.

lewis hamilton

gentle and incredibly tender. maybe it’s after he compliments something small about you, then you look at him like you’re about to say “thank you,” but he just kisses you instead. soft music playing, hearts racing.

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

it’s cheeky at first—he makes a joke, you roll your eyes, and suddenly he’s leaning in. quick, then slower when he realizes you’re kissing back. pulls away and goes “that was cool,” trying to play it off, but his smile gives him away.

oscar piastri

surprisingly smooth. he’s quiet, watching you talk about something random, and then just goes for it. it’s calm, confident, and sweeter than you expected. when you ask why now, he shrugs: “felt like the right time.”

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

teasingly slow. he waits until you’re annoyed with him, then cups your face with a smirk and kisses you like he’s been planning it all along. pulls back with a raised eyebrow like “you good now?”

lance stroll

soft and shy. it happens while you’re cuddling or talking quietly. he leans in slowly and almost chickens out halfway, but you close the gap. his hands stay at your waist the whole time, grounding himself in the moment.

ʚ・williams

alex albon

warm and playful. probably after he’s been making you laugh, and he catches you mid-giggle. the kiss is light, smiley, and makes you both laugh right after. he kisses you again immediately, softer this time.

carlos sainz

confident but caring. he leans in close, makes sure you’re looking at him, and kisses you slowly—like he knows what he’s doing and wants you to enjoy every second. murmurs “bien?” against your lips.

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

absolutely panics internally but tries to be cool. gives you a shy little grin, then just leans in and goes for it. surprisingly good at it, but turns bright red after and starts rambling. “was that okay? i mean—obviously, but—”

esteban ocon

thoughtful and deliberate. he makes sure the moment feels right. kisses you like he’s been thinking about it for a while but wanted it to be perfect. afterward, he just holds your hand tighter.

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

mischievous and flirty. he says something like “you keep looking at me like that, and i’m gonna have to kiss you,” and then actually does. it’s cocky for about two seconds, and then very soft when he realizes how serious it feels.

isack hadjar

a little hesitant, but once he’s sure you’re into it, it’s full of emotion. he touches your face, almost reverently, and kisses you like he’s scared it might be the only one. spoiler: it’s not.

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

oh he makes it a moment. dim lights, soft music, his arm around your shoulder. it’s slow, smoldering, and just a little showy. he pulls away with a smug smile and goes “you’ve been thinking about that too, right?”

franco colapinto

innocent and genuine. it happens during a quiet, wholesome moment—maybe while stargazing or lying on the couch. he brushes his thumb over your lips like a question, then kisses you like he’s dreaming.

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

surprisingly sweet for someone so blunt. it’s simple, nothing flashy—just a quiet lean-in when you're standing close. he kisses you like it’s obvious, like this was always going to happen eventually.

gabriel bortoleto

excited and a little rushed. he just has to kiss you. maybe after you say something cute or smart, and he can’t help himself. pulls back with a sheepish grin and says, “sorry, i’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

1K notes · View notes

itsminjify · 7 months ago

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(🪽)⋆ ࣪ 午 : RICH BOY ENHYPEN CHASING YOU ────𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝑖𝐒 ✶ rich boy!enhypen x fem!readerㅤ｡｡ fluff suggestive. & 14OOwc. : kissing, skinship, petnames ── ARCHiVE

( minji says ) : my first sfw fic ㅠㅠ, some of these are based on real-life scenarios !! i had a rich boy pinning after me before back in my 1st year at uni... it was not as cute as this though

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

he leans against his car, arms crossed, that stupid smirk playing on his lips. the soft glow of the streetlights dances across his face, making him look unfairly good. rich boy charm and all, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you.

"you’re late," you say, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice wavers.

heeseung chuckles, low and smooth. "relax, princess. i’m here now, aren’t i?"

"don’t call me that," you snap, but the way his eyes flicker down to your lips tells you he won’t stop.

he pushes off the car, closing the distance between you. his cologne wraps around you, far too familiar. "why not? you like it," he murmurs, voice dipping lower.

you glare up at him, though it’s weak at best. "you’re insufferable."

he grins, "and you’re beautiful when you’re mad. what a pair we make."

before you can respond, his fingers brush against your wrist, tugging you closer. "admit it," he whispers, his voice soft but daring. "you missed me."

"heeseung, i swear—"

"swear all you want, baby," he cuts you off, his lips hovering near your ear now. "but you’re here. and you look way too good to be mad at me for long."

damn him. and damn the butterflies in your stomach.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

“you’re hiding from me again.” jay’s voice cut through the noise as he found you tucked into a quiet corner of his sprawling house. the party was in full swing, the bass rattling the walls, red cups littering every surface like decorations.

“i’m not hiding,” you muttered, taking a slow sip from your drink.

he raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, a red cup dangling lazily from his fingers. his tie was long gone, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. goddamn why was he so attractive?

“baby, you disappear every time my parties get a little wild.” he smirked, stepping closer, the faint smell of cologne and alcohol trailing him. “what, too many people for you?”

“too many people for you,” you shot back, glaring at him over the rim of your cup. “you’ve been all over the place.”

he laughed, tipping his head back slightly, his golden hair catching the light. “jealous, sweetheart?”

“hardly.”

but he didn’t buy it. he crouched down to your level, his free hand finding your knee. “you know, it’s hard to have fun when the only person i want to drink with keeps running off.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to shiver at his touch. “then maybe you should stop throwing these ridiculous parties.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he grinned, pulling you to your feet with a firm but playful tug. “come on. let me make it up to you. we’ll drink together—just us. deal?”

and somehow, with him looking at you like that, you couldn’t say no.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"you’re such a pain, jake," you groaned, standing on the curb while he leaned against his stupidly shiny aston martin like he owned the world. which, to be fair, he kind of did.

"but i’m your pain," he shot back, twirling the keys around his finger like some kind of movie villain. “now, get in. i’m bored.”

"it’s midnight," you deadpanned, crossing your arms. “normal people are asleep.”

he grinned, full of trouble. "good thing neither of us is normal. come on, sweetheart. just one ride. you, me, and 600 horsepower."

you raised an eyebrow. "and what happens when we crash because you’re too busy flirting to look at the road?"

"oh, you wound me." he pressed a hand to his chest like you’d insulted his honor. “i’m an excellent driver. but if you’re scared, i could always hold your hand.”

"you’re so annoying," you muttered, but your feet were already moving.

"that’s my girl," he said, throwing open the passenger door with a flourish.

"i’m not your girl," you shot back, sliding into the seat anyway. the leather was ridiculously soft—of course it was.

he climbed in, tossing you a wink as he revved the engine, the car practically purring. “keep telling yourself that, doll.”

and then he took off, speeding through empty streets like he was allergic to rules, laughing every time you yelled at him to slow down. but when he reached over, casually lacing his fingers with yours on the console, you didn’t pull away.

"admit it," he said, grinning like the devil. "you’re having fun."

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. "shut up and drive, jake."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

you shouldn’t even be here. sunghoon texted you two hours ago: “you free?” and now you’re in a chanel store watching him do what he does best—flaunt his ridiculous wealth.

“these?” he holds up a pair of earrings you barely glanced at five minutes ago.

“yeah, they’re pretty,” you reply, trying to stay unbothered.

fifteen minutes later, he’s signing off on half the store. you cross your arms, glaring as he grins, a devilish glint in his eye.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you hiss. “i didn’t ask for all this!”

“you didn’t have to, sweetheart.” he steps closer, his hand brushing your arm like it’s casual, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

“sunghoon,” you warn, but your voice falters when he tilts his head, studying you like he’s amused by your attempt at resistance.

“don’t act like you don’t love it,” he murmurs, his tone low, teasing. “one little compliment and i’m ready to buy out the whole store. what does that say about me, huh?”

“that you’re an idiot,” you quip, even though your cheeks are warming under his gaze.

he chuckles, stepping into your space. “an idiot who knows exactly how to make you melt.”

his fingers trail down your arm, his smirk deepening when you don’t pull away. “relax, baby. it’s just a little fun.”

“you’re trouble,” you mutter.

“and yet,” he says, leaning in close, “you keep coming back.”

the worst part? he’s not wrong.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

you’re scrolling through your phone when it pings—a text from sunoo.

sunoo: speeding to your house rn. 30 seconds, pretty girl.

you blink at the screen, heart skipping a beat. you barely have time to process before the doorbell rings.

opening the door, you’re met with sunoo’s ridiculously perfect smirk. his car, some expensive foreign model, is parked crookedly in your driveway, headlights still on. he’s dressed in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up, and jeans that fit too well.

“didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you say, trying to sound unimpressed, but the way his eyes flicker over you, taking in your oversized hoodie and bare legs, makes your face heat up.

“what can i say? i missed you,” he drawls, leaning casually against the doorframe. “besides, you look way too cute to be sitting home alone. couldn’t let that happen, could i, pretty girl?”

you roll your eyes, but your stomach flips at the pet name. “you’re insane. what if i wasn’t home?”

he grins, stepping closer, his cologne clouding your senses. “then i’d wait. or maybe climb through your window. dramatic enough for you?”

“absolutely not.”

his fingers brush your chin, tilting your face up. “oh, come on. you love it when i’m dramatic. admit it.”

“sunoo—”

“shut up and say you love me,” he interrupts.

you hate how he leaves you breathless every time.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

jungwon leans against the sleek black car parked outside your favorite boutique, arms crossed, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. the sunlight hits his tailored shirt just right, giving him that effortless rich boy glow. you hate how good he looks.

“this one?” you hold up a dress, simple but elegant, and he tilts his head like he’s considering it.

“try it on,” he says, voice low, but there’s a glint in his eyes that screams he’s already imagining you in it. “actually, try all of them on. i’ll decide which one i like best.”

“jungwon,” you sigh, giving him a pointed look. “i don’t need you to buy me anything.”

he steps closer, the space between you shrinking as his cologne wraps around you like a second skin. “but i want to,” he murmurs, his lips quirking up. “you’re not gonna deprive me of seeing you look drop-dead gorgeous, are you, baby?”

your cheeks heat at the pet name, and you swat his chest lightly. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you love it,” he quips, grabbing your wrist gently before you can pull away. his fingers brush against yours, lingering just enough to send a shiver up your spine. “besides, you deserve nice things. let me spoil you.”

he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper near your ear. “just admit you like having me wrapped around your finger.”

“who said that?” you shoot back, but your smile betrays you.

“me,” he replies smoothly, grinning as he takes the dress from your hand. “now go try this on, sweetheart. i want to see my girl look perfect.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

your birthday party is too crowded, the kind of rich-kid chaos you can’t fully escape. you’re by the dessert table when you feel him before you see him—riki’s cologne, his stupidly expensive leather jacket brushing your arm.

“happy birthday, sunshine.” his voice is all smooth confidence, and when you glance over, he’s already smirking at you.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, pretending not to notice the way his hair looks unfairly good, messy like he rolled out of bed but somehow perfect.

“celebrating, obviously.” he pops a chocolate into his mouth like he owns the place. “where’s my birthday kiss?”

you scoff. “it’s my birthday.”

“exactly.” he steps closer, his voice dropping. “so i’m giving you one.”

“absolutely not.” you narrow your eyes, trying to ignore the way his hand casually settles on your hip, thumb brushing circles over the fabric of your dress. “who even invited you?”

“your mom loves me, didn’t you know?” he grins, all teeth and trouble. “she said, ‘riki, please crash her party and make her blush.’ her exact words, promise.”

“you’re so full of it.” you shake your head, but your pulse quickens when he leans in, his breath warm against your ear.

“admit it,” he murmurs, “you’d miss me if i wasn’t here.”

you hate that he’s right. but before you can retort, he tilts your chin up, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “happy birthday, sunshine,” he whispers, and just like that, he’s walking away, leaving you standing there, flustered and furious.

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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months ago

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get to work.

LN x leclerc!reader

a sequel of sorts to as sick as it sounds, i loved you first - part 1 - part 2

in which lando starts the life with you that he’s always wanted

hi! me again - obsessed with these two soooo much so best believe i had to write (and will continue to write) more for them! thank you so much for continuing to read my work, ilysm and also huuuuuge shoutout to my brainrot bestie @lavenderlando because i truly could not do any of this without her xoxox lemme know what you think, likes and reblogs are aaaalways so so appreciated!

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! this one is kinda filthy hehe. smut, fluff, highkey breeding kink, brief switch!lando and switch!r, unprotected p in v, general sex acts in silly places, charles still having it out for lando lmao, mentions of pregnancy/family planning

7.2k words

you stare up at him, breathless, awestruck, leaning further into his touch. he’s swaying you gently to the music, ignorant to all the eyes of your nearest and dearest family and friends. fairy lights cast a warm hue over his face, leaving him golden and sparkling, gleaming with his love for you.

lando’s still pristine, suit unwrinkled, dress shirt crisp, tie straight, not yet wrecked by the party that will undoubtedly overflow all around you both as the night progresses. your dress flows out around you, fanning out in intricate layers of sharp white lace. your newly acquired wedding bands feel foreign on your fingers, but perfect nonetheless. you’re more used to it than him, though, having hauled around the giant rock of an engagement ring he’d presented you with just a few months before.

martin had been called on to be a groomsman, but he’d vouched for the DJ who’s inviting the rest of the party to join you and your husband on the dance floor. people swirl all around you, blowing kisses, squeezing your arms affectionately, but lando can’t keep his eyes off of you.

your husband.

your husband your husband your husband.

it felt just as delicious to think of him with that title as it is to say it. you say it anyway.

“my husband.” you hum, content, pressing your head to his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“my wife.” he coos down at you, pressing a lasting kiss to your hairline, cautious not to mess up your carefully crafted hair.

but it’s your wedding night, and you want to kiss him properly! you figure you’ve earned the right to kiss him anywhere, anytime, whenever, so you tilt your head back and drop his hands, pulling him down. his hands find your cheeks, cupping them ever so softly as your lips meet, loving and tender. you smile into it, and he mirrors you.

“can’t wait for everything.” you sigh, blissed out from the adoration rolling off of him in waves.

“everything?” he laughs, forehead resting on yours.

“life, with you. always.”

“i’ll give you everything you want, baby.” he promises.

you wholeheartedly believe him.

“better make this quick, norris.” you giggle, backing up towards the marble counter.

lando stalks towards you, grinning hungrily, and hoists you up onto the sink top, making sure not to damage your dress - not that it would be the first time he’d ruined a white dress of yours. wasn’t that how you’d both ended up here, anyway?

“sue me for wanting to fuck my wife, norris.” he mocks, mouthing at the skin of your neck. you flush. mrs norris.

“no marks.” you breathe, trying to convey a tone of warning, but it comes out needy and weak, and would have fallen on deaf ears regardless.

“but you’re all mine now, honey. forever.” lando murmurs against your jaw, and your head falls back to let him run ruin across your delicate skin. “want everyone to know it.”

you don’t protest again, spreading your legs as he ruches the material of your dress so that it bunches around your hips. his hand skates below the material, blindly feeling the satin and lace of your panties. he groans as he traces over a damp patch, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

“soaked for me, baby. been wanting me? just had to ask.” he rambles, tugging your underwear to the side. “can have my cock whenever you want it, you know? it’s all yours.”

lando smears your wetness around with a swipe of his thumb, switching rapidly between messy circles around your clit and teasing dips into your cunt, shallow enough to make you squirm for more.

“just fuck me.” you pant, rutting your hips into his hand.

“the mouth on you, baby. filthy.” he scolds teasingly, but adheres, belt clinking and slacks dropping just enough to free himself.

he drags your hips even closer to the edge of the counter and you feel the warmth of him, hot and throbbing, ghosting over the seam of your pussy. you feel the tip of him press firmly against where you’re leaking, and a roll of his hips sheathes him deep into you smoothly.

“shit, we don’t have a condom.” his eyes fly open, finding yours. you just smirk up at him.

an earnest and vulnerable conversation in the weeks leading up to your wedding had you deciding to abandon your birth control, but you’d been using condoms ever since, not wanting any accidents in the run up to your nuptials.

“you said you wanted to get to work once we got married.” you clench around him for dramatic affect. your desire for flair makes sweat bead in his hairline. “so get to work.” you bite your lip, gazing up at him through lustful, hooded eyes.

“you’re gonna kill me, i swear.” he growls, finding a wild rhythm that makes you writhe into him.

slaps of skin echo through the bathroom, whines and cries of satisfaction and his name bouncing between the cream walls. he can’t take his eyes off of you, beautiful and spent beneath him, rutting your hips to meet his.

“i love you, lando, love you like this, mon amour.” you whimper, clinging to him. his shirt hangs wrinkled, tie loose and brushing against the skin of your chest that your dress doesn’t cover.

“i love you, too, baby. so fucking perfect for me.” lando groans, pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to your lips. it’s all tongue and teeth, raw desire as you lick into each other. “you want me to put a baby in you already, huh? ready for me to fuck you nice and full and we’ve only be married, what, six hours?” he taunts.

“i want it, please.” you beg, softening your eyes and pouting your lips.

“my wife is such a needy slut for me, yeah, baby? gonna make me a daddy?”

a few more thrusts, and you’re undone, coating him as he stutters, fills you up. you pant into the intimate space between you both, satiated as you giggle, kiss him. you rake your hands through his sweat slicked locks, holding him close.

“we better get back.” he whispers.

“you’re dripping down my thigh.” you deadpan and he cackles, neck flexing as it does. you lick your lips subconsciously, anxious to mark the taut, tanned skin up when you have him all to yourself again.

“don’t worry, honey, i’ll clean it all up later.” he winks, and you slap his shoulder.

and when you’re curled into his side, cry laughing at max’s speech, recounting the unhinged DM you’d sent him once upon a time in qatar, you work overtime to keep your thighs clenched tight.

it’s 3am when you finally reach the villa, tucked away somewhere in sardinia, secluded and gorgeous. you creep around exploring while he drops your bags in the master suite, finding yourself on the back deck. from there, you can see the garden, green and ornate, bursting with flowers in shades of pinks and white. then, there’s the sea, waves crashing softly onto the white sand of your private beach. the privacy stretches on for miles in both directions, faint lights far away down the coastline.

you sigh, content, tears pricking your eyes. lando had picked this out, just for you, and his choices made it clear just how well he knows you. that’s how he finds you, wiping a stray tear, and he wraps you in his arms, his head perching on your shoulder. he breathes you in, and you feel him smile against the skin of your neck. open mouthed kisses are dotted over your shoulder and you relax fully into him, eyes fluttering shut.

“it’s so gorgeous, amour. thank you so much.” you whisper, turning your head and awaiting a kiss that quickly comes.

“don’t thank me, baby. this is the least you deserve.” he murmurs, resuming a soft suckle at your neck. you roll your eyes at his generosity. he’s so selfless sometimes that he forgets that he deserves this every bit as much as he thinks you do.

“can we go down to the shore? i’m too excited to sleep.” you giggle, and he hums into the hickey he’s leaving.

“course, honey. we have plenty of time to sleep.”

the plan was, after all, to eat, sleep, fuck, repeat. and swim, of course.

you walk down to the water hand in hand, taking your time through the gardens. he picks you a flower, tucks it sweetly behind your ear.

you ditch your shoes, sighing as your feet sink into the cool sand, damp from the push and pull of the waves. the stars are out, clear as day, and you play dot to dot, pointing out constellations to lando.

“do you have any idea how happy i am?” lando asks when you’re both sat in the sand. he pulls you into his side, your head tucking below his chin.

“if you’re as happy as i am then i’d guess pretty fucking happy.” you reply.

“the wedding was… god. i was kinda nervous about the whole event but as soon as i saw you walking down that aisle…” he trails off, scoffing in disbelief. “you’re a fucking angel.”

“i wasn’t even sure that charles was gonna let me go, you know?” you chuckle, gazing up into his watery eyes.

“i did have to pry him off.” lando laughs along with you, shaking his head.

“and then his speech.” you slap a hand over your mouth, stifling laughter. lando throws his head back in faux agony.

the speech in question had started with “to my sweet, dear baby sister and… lando”, and had ended with “and if you choose, for whatever reason, to make her unhappy, they will never find your body.”

“don’t think he’s ever gonna like me.” lando shrugs, tightening his arm around you, like someone might come and take you away.

“oh, shut up, he likes you! he just… likes to torture you more.” you grin cheekily up at him, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss you urgently.

“you are so beautiful.” he mumbles against your lips. “‘m so fucking in love with you.”

“je t’aime pour toujours.” you coo, licking into his mouth. i love you forever.

something urgent and guttural sounds from deep within him and you smooth your hands through his hair. he pulls away breathless, something wild in his eyes.

“we never talked about what happened in the bathroom.” lando rasps, eyes darkening.

“we got to work.” you smirk, echoing your previous words.

“but last time we spoke about it, you weren’t one hundred percent sure about the timing.” lando furrows his eyebrows, searching your face. your smirk relaxes into a smile, genuine with excitement.

“as soon as we said our vows, i knew i was ready. those things you said about family, about us having our own family… god, lando i would have let you have me right there at the alter.”

you are the light of my life. you make me happier than i ever thought i could be, and i will spend every day trying to make you feel the same way. from the moment i saw you, i was yours and i’ll stay yours until my last breath. my greatest joy so far is getting you call you my wife, and i can’t wait to call you the mother of my children. there’s no one else on this earth that i’d want to live my life with, raise a family with, come home to. you make me whole, baby.

safe to say, you’d said your own vows through a chorus of sobs.

“are you sure you’re ready?” lando whispers.

“i want a family with you, amour. let’s make one.” you raise an eyebrow, an invitation.

“i say we start right here.” lando beams, lunging towards you.

you fall back into the sand, laughing against his lips as he kisses you deeply, mouthing down your jaw. he wastes very little time, pulling at the strap of your camisole, licking over your bare flesh as he drags it down your arm.

“here? in the sand?”

“i said what i said.”

he peels off your top, nips at your bare chest as he pushes your sweats down, just enough to get his hand beneath your panties. you gasp wetly, eyes fluttering shut as he teases your folds with his fingers. he moans into the skin of your breast, hardening at the pooling wetness he’s discovered. a few calculated swipes of his fingers and he’s sinking them deep, your sweat pants restricting his movements. he adapts, rutting his fingers into you in a slow grind, thumb bumping your clit. your nipples peak, the ocean breeze and the cold sand under your back causing you to arch violently into him.

“you’re so wet for me, baby.” lando pants, before he closes his lips around your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple. you’re sensitive, clenching around his fingers.

“want you inside of me.” you whine, bucking your hips to meet each grind of his digits.

“i am.” he flashes you a devilish grin, punctuating his words with a harder thrust.

“lando!” you growl, warning him.

“anything for my wife.”

he pulls his fingers out of you, the sound of the action obscene, and makes a show of sucking them clean while he strips himself bare. you huff, wriggling your sweats off so that you’re naked too, your thighs falling open on cue. he settles between them, brushing your hair out of your face as he settles on top of you.

you can feel him, throbbing and hot between your legs, small drops of him hitting your bare cunt. you keen into him, rolling your hips up to meet his.

“now, baby, please.” you beg.

“never get used to this, you know?” landos chest heaves as he pushes into you. “always feels as good as the first time.”

he sinks all the way in, taking note of every minuscule movement of your face. his breathing stutters at the warmth and wetness that envelops him whole, his tummy tight. you’re no better, lip caught between your teeth as you watch him hungrily.

“you remember our first time, baby? how good we were together, even then?” lando rasps, pulling out of you the tiniest bit, just to slam his hips right back against yours. it makes electricity shoot up your spine to the top of your head, leaving you hot all over.

“of course, amour, i think about it all the time.” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he sets his pace, slow yet so deliciously brutal.

“did you think then that we’d be doing this forever? that you’d be all mine, begging me to get you pregnant?” he teases, fingers digging into the plush of your hips.

“i used to think about it then, if we’d make it. knew we would. wanted you forever from the very first time.” you choke out, meaning it. “‘m so fucking happy lando.” you gasp, grabbing at every part of him that you can.

your hands smooth over his bronze skin, bound to get even richer from all of the sun kisses the rest of your honeymoon would bring. you zone out, honing in on the sound of the waves dancing against the shoreline, eyes staring up at the moon just behind his head. you can’t believe that you’re his, here, that this is real life and that you share a last name with a man that glows like the sun. a head of chocolate frosted curls obscures your vision, and you realise that you’re crying.

“baby? you with me?” lando draws you back to him, hips still.

“i’m here, ‘m sorry, it’s perfect. you’re so perfect.”

you pull him down, so desperate to taste him, moans muffled. your tears trail down his cheeks as well, so close and intertwined. he’s gentler now, pawing at your sides attentively, pulling your body along with his.

“gonna give you everything you want, pretty girl. my beautiful, beautiful girl.” lando coos.

“come with me.” you plead, nerve endings set alight by the overstimulating way his cock drags against your walls.

“you gonna take it all for me, mama?” and your vision goes white. he’s evil for that, playing you like a fool, but it makes you quiver around him, thighs shaking where they’re locked around his waist.

you chant his name, blasphemy, and words of absolute adoration as you let go, coating him in waves of your very own creation. he tries his best to ride through it, but one look at your twisted face, of your quaking body, and he’s dumb with pleasure, crashing down on top of you like a heated blanket.

the sun rises in the east when he carries you to bed, your eyes drooping as you loop your arms around his neck.

“get some sleep for me, angel. we have a baby to make.”

“do you ever wonder about trying new things?” lando asks, hand linked loosely with yours.

sea water rushes over your feet up to your ankles, the sun warming the skin of your backs as you stroll lazily along the coastline. it’s been three days of nothing but each other, a big, peaceful house and endless sunshine.

you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“lando, for the fourteenth fucking time, i promise i’ll play tarkov with you when we get home, but it’s just not really my thing-“ you whine, but his louder than life laugh cuts you off, slicing through the serenity of the beach.

“not what i meant, baby.” he chuckles, utterly fond of the way your face wrinkles with confusion.

“what, then?”

“in the bedroom.” lando smirks, and your eyes go wide.

“like… like what?” you squeak, slightly lost.

your sex life was nothing short of adventurous, to say the least.

“like maybe…” he hums teasingly. “you take control?” lando raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you feel yourself flush.

“me? i thought you liked taking charge?”

lando stops, pulling you into his body. water splatters higher up your legs, cooling you down the slightest amount. his hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look at him.

“i love watching you.” he states simply. “and i wanna watch you push yourself.”

“okay.” you inhale shakily. “okay.” you repeat with more conviction. an idea pops into your head. you can’t resist the smirk that pulls at the corner of your lips, and lando grins at the glimmer in your eyes.

“go back to the house. wait for me in our room.”

“naked?” he quips cheekily.

“what do you think?” you tease. lando kisses you quickly, but you push him back. “go.” you command.

he turns to walk away, repeatedly turning back to you, as if he wants to make sure he hasn’t imagined your entire existence. you just turn your back, staring out to sea. the sky is awash with streaks of purple and orange, and you feel your skin prickle with excitement. you take your time walking back, actively trying to slow yourself down. when you reach the door to the master suite, your breath hitches in your throat.

your husband looks fucking ethereal, stretched out across the off-white linen on the king sized mattress. he’s elongated by the way his head is thrown back, bathed in the lamp light as his muscles flex, taut from the way he’s gripping himself, working himself from base to tip. a faint sheen of sweat coats his bronzer-still skin and your mouth runs dry.

“couldn’t wait?” you rasp, low and dangerous. his eyes flutter open, and the bastard has the audacity to beam at you.

“took too long.” he shrugs, resuming without a care in the world. you hear him pant, teeth gritted from the pleasure.

“hands off, lando.” you slowly undress, untying your sarong and letting it flutter to the floor. your bikini quickly follows, landing in a colourful heap on the floor. you stalk towards him and watch him swallow hard when you perch on your knees at the end of the bed. “you asked for this, amour, and you couldn’t even wait to enjoy it properly.”

you’re pouting at him, feigning sadness. he picks up on it, eyes locked on you, trailing shamelessly over your breasts.

“was thinking about how pretty you looked out there.” lando rasps, fisting the duvet beneath him. you tilt your head to the side, raking your eyes over his frame.

“bad boys don’t get the real thing.”

you smooth your hand up his thigh towards his hipbone, and you notice the way he twitches, cock stood tall and waiting. he’s leaking, desperate and aching, but he plays along, needy for it. you grin lazily, wriggling up the bed until you’re close enough, throwing your leg over one of his until you’re straddling his thigh, the skin warm against your bare cunt.

“baby…” he breathes, bringing up a hand to graze your thigh, but you bat it away.

“no touching.” you scold. “i’m gonna take what i want and,” you pause, thoughtfully. “then, maybe, i’ll give you something.”

lando pouts up at you, slowly retreating his hand until it’s back at his side. his jaw is tight as he fights to keep his mouth shut, trying to be content with just watching. after all, you are quite the sight.

you roll your hips experimentally, gasping at the way your clit grazes his skin. your head falls back, out of it as you find a rhythm that works. you drag yourself backwards and forwards, panting as you go, your wetness smearing across his flexed thigh.

“it’s so good, lando,” you moan. “wish you could touch me, but you don’t behave.” you tut, smirking down at him.

“i’ll be good, baby.” he chokes, and your eyes fly open. you rake you eyes over the shape of him, the tense dips of each of his abs, the way his hip bone pulses, leading all the way down to where he’s throbbing.

“looks painful.” you bite your lip. “want me to help?”

“please.” he coos, reaching out for you again before he thinks better of it, twisting his fingers back into the sheets until his knuckles are white.

you grip the base of his cock, loose at first, squeezing tight a few times. his mouth falls open, a deep, unhinged groan rumbling through his chest. you almost lose yourself in how gorgeous he looks but you remain focused, fucking your hand up and down on him a few times, experimenting.

“you gotta wait, amour.” you warn, thumbing at the tip, smearing beads of pre cum over the head. lando whines, squeezing his eyes shut, teeth gritting so hard that his jawline pops, defining it even more than usual. you grin. he’s wrapped so tight around your finger.

“don’t tease me.” he begs, bucking his hips into your hand.

“but you gotta keep it all in for me, amour. save it all so you can fill me up whenever i want.” your voice drips all over him like honey, making him shiver violently.

“you can’t just say that-“

“i can, lando. i can,” you giggle, evil. “and you’re gonna take it.” it’s a promise and a threat and he’s seconds away from blowing his load all over you.

“jesus, i’ve created a fucking monster.” lando hisses, gasping with every slow rub of your hands over his cock.

“and now you’re gonna deal with the consequences, sweetheart.” you purr. “you wanna fuck me?”

his eyes shoot wide open, and he nods desperately, his gaze boyish and needy.

“so wet for you, lando, think i’ll just sink right…” you trail off, manoeuvring yourself so that you’re hovering over his length, red and swollen. “down.” you moan, filling yourself up with ease.

lando cries out, a broken man of his own design, and you pant, rocking yourself backwards and forward as you adjust to the intrusion.

“we feel so good together.” you breathe, peering down at where he’s splitting you open.

“so good.” lando affirms. “can i touch you?” he whines, the veins in his arms protruding through his skin. they remind you how powerful he is, how easily he could flip you over and pound into you like a madman, but he’s letting you destroy him and he’s loving every second. you clamp down around him at the thought, a gush of your slick dripping down around him.

“touch me.” you comply, and he springs from the mattress, sitting unsupported in the middle of the bed as his hands snake around your waist. you anchor him though, holding him close as he holds you tight against him, rutting up into you so deliciously that you cry out his name wetly, face buried in his hair. “so good for me.” you whisper.

your hands cup his face, pulling back from his frizzy curls enough to press your lips to his, swallowing each-others moans.

“gonna come, baby.” lando mumbles into your lips, eyes glazed over with panic, scared you’re gonna deny him.

“that’s okay, amour, you saved it all for me.” you kiss the words against the corner of his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as your own orgasm tightens your belly to the point of no return. “good boy, lando, fill me up now, sweetheart.”

the grunt he lets out heightens into a whine, lost to the crook of your neck as he releases, grinding into you as he lets go. it sends a rush of heat up your spine, a flame to gunpowder, and you thrash in his arms, meeting your own end seconds later.

you come down in his embrace, pulling away to meet his wide eyes, awestruck and glossy.

“thank you, baby.” he mutters, hugging you tight for just a moment, before rolling you onto your back.

“love you.” you whisper, confused as to where he’s going when he starts to move down the bed.

you don’t have to wonder for long, watching as he settles his head against your thigh, licking his lips as he finds his release dripping out of you. two fingers run through your folds, teasing each and every overstimulated nerve. your teeth sink into your bottom lip right when his fingers sink into your cunt. lando’s in a daze, watching the way everything seeps out of you.

“keep it in for me.” lando slurs, transfixed on every clench of your spent cunt around his thick fingers. your eyes roll back in your head.

you roll over in the bed, the sunlight streaming through the linen curtains rousing you from your slumber. you push your hair from your face, reaching blindly for your husband but your hand lands on cold sheets, thudding dully against the mattress. you wrinkle your nose, sitting up and scanning the bedroom. you don’t find him, confused. he never wakes up first. your feet meet the cool tiles of the floor and you pad into the en-suite to freshen up, pulling a loose robe on before you make your way downstairs. you can smell eggs, toast and something floral, and you grin giddily, already anticipating what awaits.

you find lando in the middle of the kitchen, sleepy eyed and smiling at you like you’re the centre of the universe, sent to earth just for him. he’s surrounded, surrounded, by flowers, all kinds of varieties, and they flood the space, every surface covered by bouquets and arrangements. behind him, nestled amongst the sea of pinks, yellow and whites, the table is laid out with a delicious spread, and you feel a pang of hunger at the sight of fresh pastries and juices.

“mon dieu.” you sigh dreamily, grazing a hand over flower petals as you make your way through the jungle towards lando. “all of this for me? how the fuck did you manage this?” you swoon, wrapping your arms around his neck. he leans down, kisses you sweet and slow.

“rumour has it, there are no flowers left on the island.” he chuckles into your neck, and you giggle, leaning up to kiss him again.

“you’re insane.” you reply, awestruck. how did you get so lucky?

“ready for the day?” lando asks, toying with the ends of your hair.

“as long as i get to eat my body weight in sfogliatella first.” you tell him, eyeing the table behind him hungrily.

droplets of water sparkle in the sunlight, dripping slowly down his lean back, flexing with every shake of his head.

lando had crawled out the pool, and right between your legs, where he now resides, mouthing at the crotch of your bikini bottoms. he snaps the band of them against your waist, and you arch further into him every time his nose bumps your clothed clit.

“you’re being mean.” you whine, head falling back against the sun lounger. your book has fallen to the stone paved floor, your place surely lost, but you couldn’t care less. every time you pick the damn thing up, your husband has found a new, unique, way to entice you out of actually reading it, usually with his tongue.

“you want my mouth, baby? just say please.” he smirks up at you, wet curls falling over his eyes. water droplets drip over your thighs, cold against your warm skin and you shiver.

“please.” you growl, not really meaning it, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“polite.” lando tuts, but he relents, twisting the ties that hold the bottoms together until they come undone. he tugs the material away, throws it blindly, and the quiet splash that sounds from behind him tells you both that they’d landed in the pool. he looks up at you, sheepish, and you glare at him.

“make it up to me.” you mutter, bucking your hips into his face.

lando complies, closing his mouth over your clit, sucking softly at the bud. you’re throbbing for him, writhing in the heat of the sun at his electric touch.

two fingers slither between your folds, and he groans into your cunt at the slickness that he finds there, laving his tongue through your slit to savour your taste before his fingers sink inside of you. as he builds a rhythm, fingertips bumping that special spot, you cry out, melting completely into the lounger.

“can feel us from earlier,” lando slurs, lips bumping your clit as he speaks. you shiver, the wet squelch between you quivering thighs leaving you utterly breathless. “so good for me, keeping it all in.”

you let go a few seconds later, grinning languidly as you watch him lick his fingers clean through your sunglasses. he kisses you cheekily, leaving you with your taste on your tongue, and he throws himself back into the pool.

“get my bikini bottoms!” you call, flustered by the way the low sun hits him, paints his golden and shiny.

“but i prefer the view without them.” he winks, but dives under the water to retrieve them nonetheless.

“‘m so, so in love with you.” lando rasps into your ear, mouthing at the skin of your flushed cheeks.

you’re chest to chest, eyes locked as he grinds into you, deeper and deeper somehow with every thrust. he leaves you dizzy, tingling and weightless with every stroke, hips brushing yours.

“lando,” you sigh dreamily, threading your fingers through his curls. they’re loosening from the humidity, the heat burning between you both, no longer perfectly coiled like they had been during your dinner date.

lando had hired out a small italian restaurant overlooking the sea, soft fairy lights strung over your heads as you’d sipped wine, hands loosely clasped together. he’d toyed with your wedding band the whole time, eyes rarely leaving yours. it was a perfect end to a perfect honeymoon, and as he’d driven you back to your villa, the tension had simmered.

he had you on your back quickly, but he was careful with you, lazily revealing more and more skin as he slowly undressed you. he’d tried to slide between your thighs, eyes lit up with longing, but you’d refused him. you needed him against you, buried so deep, intertwined. lando hadn’t fought you much, pouting at the deprivation of getting a taste, but when he’d slid his cock through your folds, easy because of your glistening slick, his eyes had rolled back and he’d gotten over the disappointment.

“you’re so perfect.” you pant, leaning up to kiss him. it’s sweet, full of passion, leaves you wanting. “i love you.” you whisper when he pulls away, his forehead resting intimately against yours. warm breaths mingle, rapid and needy from the intensity of it all.

when you fall apart under him, a string of jumbled french rolls off of your tongue, your eyes squeezed shut at the pure inferno of ecstasy that washes over you. you’re both damp with sweat, his curls falling in a mess over his forehead, framing pretty eyes that roll back in his head when he burrows deep and reaches his own release.

once you’re untangled, you lay facing each other and his fingertips ghost over the curve of your bare waist. you watch one another, utterly content with the silence, bathing in the warmth of the bedside lamp and the pale moonlight that filters in through the open balcony doors. the cool nighttime breeze grazes over your naked bodies, pulling you out of the unrelenting heat of the moment and into something serene, peaceful.

“i can’t wait to spend my life with you.” lando whispers, his words soft in the quiet of the room. you let them wash over you, tuned in to the waves rippling against the shore in the distance. you grin coyly back at him, grabbing the hand that he’s stroking you with. you pull it to your lips, kiss it sweetly.

you fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you, your back to his chest, loose curls tickling the skin of your neck. one of his hands rests gently over your lower belly, covered with one of yours.

your bags wait by the door, packed and ready to go home, where the rest of your life with him begins.

“i like this colour better, i think.” you muse, flicking between paint swatches. violet white and apple moon have caught your attention, but you wonder if a colder undertone would work best. you’ve taken on the task of redoing a guest room, a little end of summer project.

lando wrinkles his nose and you roll your eyes playfully.

you’re lounged across your sofa, the sun slowly dipping behind the horizon and you watch it through the open balcony doors. the room is tinged orange, glowing, painting your husband angelic.

“don’t you think something… warmer would work better?” he asks, leaning closer to have another look.

“not everyone loves fluorescent yellow.” you tease, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“okay, not that.” he laughs. “what about,” he scans the other swatches on the coffee table, reaching for one. “this one?”

he hands you honey beam, and you toy with the small card.

“i think it’s too pink.” you say.

“it’s cute! i just think we should paint it something soft, just in case…” he trails off, leaning forward and immersing himself in the samples. you lean in, too, chasing him. he has this small smile on his lips, lost in thought.

“hey, ‘in case’ what?” you ask.

lando turns to you, just stares for a second. the low sun makes your eyes sparkle, and he melts.

“in case we get pregnant.” he says quietly.

“oh.” you coo, grinning up at him. “i suppose you have a point.”

“yeah?” he breathes, excited in a way you can only compare to a sweet, innocent puppy.

“yeah.”

“like, baby, i love your eye for design but i don’t want our baby to grow up in a a pretentious, grey, prison-“ lando teases you, and you shut him up by wrestling him back onto the sofa.

“ve te faire foutre.” you scold, kissing over his cheeks.

“i love you and i love our house.” lando murmurs sincerely.

the paint swatches are forgotten as you laugh together and kiss him sweetly into the sofa.

lando relaxes into the seat, waiting for the plane to take off. oscar sits across from him, already falling asleep, hoodie pulled tight around his head. charles and alexandra are supposed to be joining them on the flight back to nice. he wonders where they are - he wants nothing more than to get home, curl into his wife’s side. lando snaps a picture of his dozing teammate, smirking at the screen, but before he can upload it to his instagram story, your contact photo fills the screen. he accepts the facetime, beaming as your tired eyes meet his through the screen.

“hey baby.” lando coos, sticking his tongue out at you.

“mon amour,” you greet, grinning at him lazily. “have you taken off yet?” you ask softly. you’re on your side in bed, blankets cocooning you, and lando aches to be there with you.

“soon, waiting for your brother and alex.” lando rolls his eyes jokingly, and you tut.

“i’ll tell them off.” you frown, unserious.

“god, don’t do that! i’m already terrified of that man.” lando shivers, and your laugh fills his ears, warms the blood flowing through his cheeks. “are you okay, though, baby? you look tired.”

“yeah, think it’s just sugar crash,” you half shrug. “i’ve been really tired for the last few days, it’s nothing.”

“sugar?” lando’s eyebrows furrow. you’re not one for sugary things, supplementing it with your body weight in snacks. you’re a savoury girl, through and through.

“yeah, i’m all kinder-d out.” you giggle, sheepish. his eyes go wide.

“my kinder?” lando gasps, feigning hurt. he sees it, then, the pile of wrappers on the nightstand behind you.

“whoops? don’t even know what came over me, but your entire stash is gone.”

“how am i ever gonna forgive you for this?” lando shakes his head, smirking at the screen.

“just get more on the way back? please?” you plead, giving him the eyes that he’d die for.

“course, baby.” he promises, but he’s mulling it all over in his head. “you’re not getting sick, are you?”

cravings. overly tired. all you had to say next was that you were nauseous and he’d be buying a crib. he kept his mouth shut, though, because it clearly hasn’t dawned on you yet.

“not sure, i’ve been fine mostly.” you shrug again, and lando can’t help but smile like a fool. “what?” you ask, noticing his untamed expression.

“nothing, i just love you. okay, baby, i’m gonna call charles and see where he is. i’ll be home in a few hours.”

“don’t forget my kinder!” you call, blowing him a kiss. “have a good flight, amour, i love you.”

lando can’t quieten his mind, too overwhelmed with the possibility that you’re about to expand your family, something he’s imagined since before he’d even proposed.

when charles steps onto the small plane, met with the sight of his brother in law grinning like an idiot at absolutely nothing, he wonders, yet again, what kind of joke god was playing on him.

you hear the front door open, the soft thud of bags dropping to the floor, and you spring from the mattress. you ignore the way your tummy turns uncomfortably, and speed down the hallway to meet him.

“hey baby.” lando murmurs, holding you tight when you jump into his arms. you never get used to him being gone.

“missed you.” you whisper, breathing in the familiar scent of him, warm and spicy, and even better than usual. “i’m so proud of you.”

lando was leading the championship, but he couldn’t get too comfortable. charles and lewis were looming in the near distance, and oscar was creeping towards the party at a rate of knots. but lando was on a streak of race wins, and he couldn’t deny that your praise made him giddy. after all, these days it was all for you.

“yeah?” lando asks, pressing his forehead against yours. you hum in agreement, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, tender, silent confirmation of just how much you’ve missed one another.

“did you pick up my chocolate?” you pout, fingers intertwined as you walk to the sofa. you drop down, curling up and lando sits next to you.

“i did, and i also got you something else.” lando smiles coyly, unzipping his bag. your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

first, he hands you the kinder chocolate. then, he hands you a pregnancy test.

seeing the two items together makes it dawn on you, and you slap your hands over your face.

“mon dieu!” you gasp. “how did i not realise?” when you lower your hands, lando sees how your eyes glimmer with tears, your lips stretched into a nervous smile.

“so i’m not crazy for thinking it, right?” lando laughs, cupping your cheeks with warm, shaking hands.

“you’re not. should i take it now?”

“i might die if you don’t.” lando’s dead serious, the tension between you palpable.

you stand from the sofa, speed towards the bathroom, and lando watches you go. he sighs, rubbing his eyes, overcome with jitters and excitement.

time seems to stand still as he waits, eyes locked on the door that you’d gone through, waiting for any movement. five minutes must have passed, but if you’d told him it had been five years, he would have believed it. the door handle makes him jump to his feet, and he walks towards you tentatively. your expression is unreadable and he wants to scream.

“so? are you- are we?” lando pleads, only a few steps away from you now.

your neutral expression morphs into one of pure joy, the tears you’d been holding back streaming in a free-for-all.

“all that work we put in must have paid off.” you whisper, and lando surges towards you. your feet leave the ground, held so tight as he spins you around.

“we’re having a baby?” lando breathes, placing you back on the ground carefully.

“you’re gonna be a dad.” you manage through tears.

“my god,” his voice is laced with disbelief, utterly enamoured with you. “i can’t even believe it.” his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel his wet, hot tears pooling there.

“i’m pregnant.” you say it slowly, tasting it on your tongue, feeling the weight of it. your husband clings to you, and your hands rake through his hair, soothing him with your dull nails across his scalp, as you ground yourself in the ecstasy of the moment.

“we did it!” lando cheers, flushed red, his watery eyes shining like the sun hitting the sea. you’re shaking, fingertips grazing your sweatshirt covered belly. his fingers lace with yours, rubbing gentle circles over the fabric.

“we did.” your voice wobbles, cheeks aching from your unshakable smile. “what the hell do we do now?”

“we plan a really elaborate hiding spot so that charles never finds me. you and the baby can visit.” lando replies earnestly, bursting into giggles when you swat his arm.

he pulls you into a kiss, so slow and gentle that the whole house melts away around you; all that’s left is you and him, and something so beautiful that you’ve created together.

“thank you.” lando mumbles against your lips.

“i’m just glad you convinced me not to paint the spare room grey.”

taglist

(lemme know if you wanna be added or removed. tags that don’t work will be removed)

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

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