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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months

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Winner | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 2.3K

Dad!Lewis x Wife!Reader

Summery: It’s lewis’s win after 945 days of not winning, and it’s also your daughter’s first race.

Warning: None

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

The home you share with Lewis in England is a sanctuary for the two of you. it's a house filled with warmth and comfort. It's a place filled with laughter and good memories.

Deciding to make this house your main one almost 4 years ago was an easy decision for the both of you. Lewis was away racing most of the year, and since you've gotten pregnant, this was the best option, his family is there, and they've been helping you whenever Lewis is away. During his brakes, you all go back to Monaco, the home you shared with Lewis when you were dating to when you got married and until your fourth month of pregnancy. For him, the move was a return to the familiar embrace of family and the land that had shaped him. Lewis’s family had welcomed you with open arms, their support a constant source of strength.

Their love for your daughter knew no bounds. She was the light of everyone’s lives. Her bright eyes and infectious giggle, a beacon of joy.

One thing is that Lola hasn't seen her dad race in real life. The sound of the engines, the rush of the crowd, those were experiences she only saw on the TV or stories told by the adults around her.

You and Lewis talked about bringing her to a race multiple times, but you always felt like she was too young, that it would be too much for her. But seeing other drivers bring their children made Lewis want to bring her more. And as the British Grand Prix approached, it felt like it was finally time, Lewis was buzzing, Mercedes won last week. Yes, it was because Max and Lando crashed, but they still won. And the feeling he had coming into the week was great. He loves Silverstone, and he's won 8 times before. And the thought of having you and Lola there with the rest of his family was filling him up with anticipation.

That's why when Lola got a bit sick and was under the weather, he felt deflated. Was it a bad omen, will this week go wrong and not like he expected. His thoughts ran wild. Throughout media day and Friday, you've been sending him pictures of the two of you watching him. His mum was with you, but she will be going on race day. Unbeknownst to Lewis, Lola was better, so much better, but you were waiting to see if she'll stay okay or maybe get sick again. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she became active once again.

On quali day, it was bright and early, when you felt Lewis get out of bed, but took you a few minutes to will yourself to get out of bed and follow him. You walked in the direction of your daughter's room. The door was open, and the night light was still on, you watched from the door way as Lewis stood by her bed, he's been coming home late at night when Lola was already in bed.

You walked in and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him from the back, feeling his skin under your arms. Lewis leaned slightly into you. You peppered his shoulder with kisses.

“I can't wait for the summer break, I feel like I haven't been spending enough time with her.” Lewis whispers, you hum and look at her from over his shoulder.

“Soon she'll be able to travel with you to races.” You whisper back. “She's super excited about that.”

“I want to start winning again, I want her to be proud of me.” Lewis told you he sounded so vournable in that moment.

“She's already so proud of you, winning or not.” You reasure him. “She goes around saying my daddy is a champion, he won 7 times, and Nicolas taught her to say that you're the goat.”

“Did he?” Lewis smiled.

“Yeah, don't think she knows what it really means, but it has her giggling every time.” You kiss his neck and pull him slightly. You leave her sleeping.

You watch him get ready from the bed, keeping him company, it pains you not being able to be there for him on his home race weekend.

“I can hear you thinking.” Lewis says, and you smile.

“I can't help it, I want to be there for you today and tomorrow.” You pout, and Lewis smiles he walks to the side of the bed you're sitting on before he leans over and presses a few kisses to your lips.

“We can't help it, Lola comes first.” Lewis says and finishes getting ready.

“I know.”

Watching quali with Lola had so many highs and lows for you. For a second, you thought Lewis would qualify first. But alas, it was 1-2 for Mercedes.

Lewis left the track at 10 that day and was home after both you and Lola fell asleep. You slept on the sofa waiting for him. Lewis smiles seeing you on the sofa, the TV on low volume. He kisses your forehead and picks you up. You stir up and wrap your arms around him.

“I'm so proud of you, Lewis.” You mumble, and he kisses your foreheads once more. He puts you in bed before he joins you, and you gravitate towards him, you cuddle.

Kissing Lewis goodbye the next day, you start getting ready, Carmen, his mum helps Lola get ready while you get ready. You take Lola's bag filled with snacks, toys, and everything she might need or want for the day, also her medicine in case she needs it.

“Look at you so cute.” You tell Lola, seeing her in a mini race suit that is identical to Lewis’, complete with race shoes as well, and a Mercedes cap to boot.

“He'll be so happy.” Carmen tells you, and you agree. She gives you a hug, and the three of you leave. You already agreed with his team to sneak you in and not tell him.

Avoiding fans was the hardest thing, but somehow, you managed to do it. Lewis was in a meeting most of the day. This race was crucial, and a lot of planning went into it.

There was a camera following you and Lola through the Mercedes motorhome, documenting your daughter's first race. She looked around in wander.

“Look who we have here.” Toto said, smiling, seeing your daughter walking in front of you. She smiles up at the tall man, her neck bending to see his face. Toto picks her up.

“Hi, Toto Daddy doesn't know I'm here.” She says and shush him with her finger to her lips.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him.” Toto whispers and smiles. She talks with Toto for a bit before he has to go.

The plan was for one of the team to get a camera into the room Lewis was in, and somehow they did. Lola was told to go knock on the door and walk in.

She looked at you as she walked to the room. You gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. Her small hand knocks on the door, barely making a noise.

Lewis looks up at the door, he thought for a second that he heard a knock or something, it was so light, before the door is pushed open, and he looks down.

“Oh my god.” He whispers. Before he gets up from his chair and, in a few big steps, scoops her up in her arms. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

“It's a surprise, Daddy.” Lola giggles, happy that she managed to surprise her dad.

“She's been feeling much better.” You tell him from the doorway, behind the man filming the father daughter due. Seeing them together here in Mercedes brought tears to your eyes, but you managed not to let them slip. Lewis holds his hand out to you, and you slip in the room and into your husband's arms. He hugs the two of you close, and you enjoy the moment not caring about the people around you.

Lewis is fussy you realised, he's making sure that you're both comfortable in the garage, that Lola's headphones were the right size and that someone will be next to you during the race incase you needed help with anything.

And so for the next hour, the garage became your little haven. Lewis was making sure your daughter was comfortable, adjusting her headphones, and pointing out various parts of the car to her with the patient enthusiasm of a father eager to share his world. She sat perched on his lap, wide-eyed and fascinated by everything around her, her tiny fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit as if trying to memorise every detail. She was so happy when he sat in the car and placed her on his lap, steering wheel and everything.

As the time for the race drew nearer, the atmosphere in the garage grew increasingly tense. Mechanics made their final checks, the car gleamed under the bright lights, and the air was thick with anticipation. Lewis knelt down beside your daughter, his face serious now as he explained that he had to go and get ready. She listened intently, nodding solemnly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Go win, Daddy,” she said, her voice full of quiet determination.

With one last kiss for each of you, Lewis stood up, took a deep breath, and headed towards his car. You watched him go, your heart swelling with pride and love.

As the engines roared to life and the cars began to line up on the grid, you held your daughter close, her eyes fixed on the track, her face alight with the same eager anticipation that filled the air. Today is a day you would cherish forever, no matter what the outcome of the race might be.

The start of the race looked good, with Lewis and George keeping the rest of the grid behind them. You grew anxious when the Mclarens over took them after Lewis was leading.

Lap 33 George had to retire his car, and it left you worried for Lewis’ car. Mclaren was leading, but the strategy from Mercedes and Lewis’ experience played a good part for him to take the lead and stay ahead of Lando. Lola sat wide-eyed and mesmerised by the spectacle unfolding before her. Lewis’s car was a blur as it streaked past the garage. You could see the intensity in his movements from the onboard, every turn, and manoeuvre executed with the precision and grace of a seasoned champion. A mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Your daughter clapped her hands in delight every time she spotted her father’s car, her infectious excitement breaking your own tension and bringing a smile to your face.

”There he is, Mummy! Look! Daddy’s winning!” She exclaimed, her voice enthusiastic, filled with pure love as she watched her daddy do what he he loved and was passionate about.

Max came out of nowhere and overtook Lando easily. Your heart dropped as the last 5 laps went on, Max is catching Lewis, your heart beating hard in your chest. The anticipation was killing you. Then, as the race entered its final lap, a hush fell over the garage, the anticipation reaching a fever pitch. Lewis was leading, and Max was too far to try and overtake.

Lola leaned forward, her eyes wide with awe as she watched the drama unfold. “Is Daddy going to win, Mummy?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

You squeezed her hand, your own emotions a blend of hope and fear. “He will.” You replied, your voice catching in your throat as you watched the final lap play out before you.

The entire grange was on its feet, a chorus of cheers and applause erupting around you as he passed the chequered flag. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart swelling with pride and joy as you watched him cross the finish line, victorious and triumphant.

The garage exploded into a frenzy of celebration, the noise and excitement almost overwhelming in its intensity.

“Daddy won! Daddy won!” she squealed, her face alight with pure, unadulterated joy.

With Carmen, you made your way to parc ferme, where Lewis parked, Lola in your arms. Your husband has already gotten out of the car and hugged his team and father. Carmen managed to get to him before the two of you, and he fell in her shoulder. He’s crying. Hearing him on the team radio crying made you fight your own tears. You walked around the barrier with Lola still in your arms, Lando was being interviewed by Jensen, and that gave you the time to reach Lewis.

He let go of his mother, and his eyes fell on you and Lola in your arms. Meeting his eyes, the tears you tried to keep at bay fell freely. The moment you reached him, he enveloped you both in a fierce, tearful embrace. You hid your face in his neck as you clutched his race suit around his back, Lola wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We did it, we did it.” He whispered in your ear, his voice cracking as he held you both close.

”Daddy don’t cry.” Lola said patting his back, trying to comfort him like he always comforts her, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, Lewis pulls back and kisses her cheek, before he turns to you and presses a kiss to your lips.

”I love you so much.” You whisper against his lips, a teary smile on your face.

”I love you too.” Lewis tells you the emotions between you thick and overwhelming.

”I love you, Daddy.” Lola said, and Lewis turned to take her in his arms, kissing all over her face.

”I love you too, sweetheart.”

In that moment, amidst the roar of the crowd and the flash of the cameras, nothing else mattered. You were together, and Lewis has proved to everyone that said he’s washed and that it’s over for him wrong. And he did it all on his daughter’s first race. His greatest accomplishment and his lucky charm.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

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appocalipse · 1 month

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doomed plans : ̗̀➛ eddie munson

you and your ex, eddie, are trying to be "just friends". it's harder than you thought it would be. | exes to lovers, suggestive but no smut, 2.2k words

"Fancy seeing you here."

His tone is jocular, but the comment is more of an understated question than a simple greeting. There's no mistaking it—he's pleasantly surprised to see you here at this party.

He looks good.

Eddie Munson looks really good.

Or maybe it's just that being around him makes you feel good, after too many weeks of forcing yourself not to miss him. "Fancy seeing you, too," you respond. "Funny how Nance forgot to mention you'd be here."

A playful glint lights up his eyes as he sidles closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth—and the expression is so familiar that your heart leaps before you can think to tamp it down.

"Ah, well, I have a theory about that, actually."

"Do you?"

He gives an energetic nod. You're still trying to muster a casual air, despite the surge of...whatever the hell this is that's hitting you right now; a rush of emotion that's just different enough from mere nostalgia to be unsettling in its intensity.

"I do," he says with another nod, this one emphatic. His smile broadens as he peers down at you.

Oh, Jesus Christ. His grin. The warmth of it. The conspiratorial joy in it.

"Wheeler's too nice for her own good," he informs you. "She didn't want to mention me because she knew you'd bail."

"Why would I bail if you were coming?"

"Because of... you know." He reaches out and taps your hand—just a quick gesture, not lingering, but you feel the feather-light touch of his fingertip like an electric shock that ricochets up your arm. "The unresolved sexual tension and everything."

"What?"

"What what?" he echoes innocently, batting his eyelashes at you with exaggerated sweetness. Eddie loves this game, and he plays it well, even now. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You and me."

"You and me?"

"Me and you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet like an eager child on Christmas morning. The taunting tone is still there, but so is something else that makes your breath catch in your throat. "Done with that yet?"

"With what?"

"Whatever it is that's keeping us apart," he says airily, and then frowns as he eyes you again. "Which, come to think of it, I don't actually know. So, hey, let's talk about that."

"Eds," you begin, then catch yourself as his face lights up at the nickname, "Don't look at me like that. We agreed."

"We did?" He tilts his head and gives you a quizzical stare. "I don't remember that."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

You just give him a pointed look.

"Come on, Y/N." His tone softens, turns low and quiet and more serious than you're expecting. "I miss you. Do you miss me?"

He's staring at you so intently that you can't bring yourself to lie. You grab your drink and take a quick sip, to stall for time, because the real answer to his question is complicated.

The beer goes down too fast. "Eddie."

"What?" He sounds innocent, but he isn't fooling you for one second.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You know like what," you retort, trying to pretend that your pulse isn't pounding in your ears right now. "You're playing with me."

"Do you want to be played with?" he asks, dark eyes glinting again.

The playful remark makes your skin tingle with a heat that's all too familiar. It's not just the words, either. It's the way Eddie is watching you, the slight smirk curving his lips, the flirtatious shift in his posture as he leans into your personal space again, intentionally crowding you this time.

There's an answering heat in your face now, a flush spreading across your skin.

Fuck.

"You have no idea what I want," you retort, deciding that it's best to keep this exchange lighthearted.

"Bullshit," he replies. "I have a very good idea of what you want."

Eddie looks entirely too pleased with himself right now. You reach out and poke him in the chest. "And what is it that I want?"

He doesn't back away from the touch. Instead, he reaches out and pokes you back, touching your shoulder with gentle insistence as he inches even closer, until your face is just inches from his. "You want this," he says softly, gaze darting to your mouth and then back up again.

Oh.

"Don't," you say.

It's a halfhearted protest at best, though. And when Eddie raises an eyebrow, you shake your head with an exasperated sigh. You're well aware that you don't sound convincing at all. This conversation has spun wildly out of control in the space of seconds.

"Don't?" He parrots the word back to you in an incredulous tone, then pulls his lower lip between his teeth, watching you closely as he lets it slide back out from under his bite again, plump and pink and glistening in the low light. "I'm not doing anything."

Back up, you think. Move away. You shouldn't be standing so close.

You find yourself staring at Eddie's mouth for a beat too long before you look back up into his eyes. You smile. "You're going to get me all confused again."

"Good." He leans forward until your foreheads are nearly touching. "If I do it right, you'll start forgetting all those reasons you were using to convince yourself we should stay broken up."

You laugh as you shove him back a step, shaking your head. "See? There you go again."

He holds his hands up in front of himself, grinning widely as he speaks. "Look, all I'm saying is, sometimes you get all twisted up in your head about things. But, other times... well, you listen to your heart instead. You just need a little reminder that the heart is usually right."

"Oh, really?" You take another sip of beer. Tastes terrible. You wish it would at least do more to quell the butterflies suddenly fluttering in your stomach. "And who told you that?"

"Said so yourself, last summer." He stares at you with a wistful expression. "Remember? The lake. Sunset. I'd like to think you remember that day."

"Eds," you warn.

"And the night after that," he continues, his gaze turning molten now as he reaches out to smooth a stray lock of hair away from your face. "I remember every detail, I can refresh your memory if you want."

It's been too long since anyone has touched you like this, and your heart leaps as his fingertips brush your cheek. It's just an instant, gone in the blink of an eye. Still...

You really are touch-starved, though, if just the whisper of Eddie's hand against your face is enough to make you want to lean into his palm. "So, what are you suggesting?"

"Well..." His mouth twitches. "Are you going to kiss me, or should I kiss you?"

"Neither." You step back and take a sip of beer. Nope. Still terrible. "I, uh, gotta get some...air. Or something."

"Air, or something?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you mutter, setting the plastic cup down on the nearest available surface, which turns out to be a table stacked with pizza boxes. Your fingers find the wooden edge and you cling, leaning your weight into it. "Look, you need to stop doing that thing."

Eddie is watching you like a cat about to pounce on its prey. "What thing?"

"You know, the thing. The thing you do. It's very... persuasive. Very convincing." You fold your arms over your chest, because the safest course of action right now is clearly not letting him get close enough to touch you again. "And it's also not fair, because we agreed."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips and tips his head back, letting out an exasperated huff. "No, you agreed. I didn't agree to anything."

"Oh, c'mon. You did. And you know you did. We both did. It was mutual."

"Uh-huh." He makes a sound of amusement as he steps closer again. "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

"I just—"

He reaches up, grips your chin with gentle insistence, and tilts your face up until your eyes meet. The world narrows until there's nothing but Eddie, who's looking at you with the same sweetly teasing expression he used to wear when he would lean over and whisper stupid jokes in your ear during class, back when you were still tentatively learning how to navigate each other, still in the shy, testing stages of that first year.

Except now, he doesn't look away as soon as you glance at him.

Now, he holds your gaze.

Now, his thumb traces your jawline.

Now, he gives you a moment to consider, before he leans in closer and presses his lips against yours.

It's not a kiss, really. Not quite. Just the suggestion of a kiss, a faint brush of his mouth against yours, a fleeting warmth that lingers for the space of a breath or two, there and then gone again.

You blink up at him, startled by the rush of heat that sweeps through you as his fingers linger on your skin. "Eddie—"

The next kiss is softer, slower, firmer. The gentle, searching pressure of Eddie's mouth on yours, unhurried and deliberate and sure, tugs at a piece of your heart that you thought was already mended, but he coaxes it into breaking open all over again.

"We...we..." You gasp, trying to remember why this is a bad idea. But the rational part of your brain is gone, shut off entirely by the little hum of contentment Eddie makes as he shifts his lips against yours.

"We what?" His words are murmured against your lips.

Your mouth still feels like it's tingling from his kiss. You lean forward, swaying into him without realizing it. "We shouldn't—"

Another kiss. You let your eyes flutter closed, and Eddie nudges you backward until your shoulders hit the wall.

His hands slide into your hair, fingers brushing through the strands, tilting your head back. You know you should stop him, but instead, you pull him closer, chasing the kiss when he breaks away, and, oh... his mouth is back on yours again, still slow, still soft, still measured. Not enough.

He is chuckling when he pulls back, the sound so quiet that you feel it more than hear it.

You think, This isn't fair. You shouldn't be able to do this to me. Not anymore.

The whole point of breaking up was so you could get over each other. This, right here? It is not helpful.

"Why, uh..." He clears his throat and trails off. When you open your eyes, you see him smiling down at you, flushed and disheveled, with a smudge of your lipstick on his mouth. "You've gotten really good at that."

Your hand goes up to his lips, finger swiping over the mark left behind by your lipstick. "So...you're saying I wasn't any good at this before, huh?"

Eddie bites his lower lip, his gaze darting to your mouth before sliding back up to meet your eyes again. "I'm saying we could've been doing this the whole time."

"We should stop, before...before...you know."

His nose nudges yours, a touch so fleeting it makes you want to tilt your face up to chase after it, but you stop yourself, because if you keep kissing him, you won't be able to bring yourself to stop. And that would be...bad. Definitely bad. You just can't remember exactly why right now.

"Before what?" Eddie asks in a low voice.

Your mouth, lips still warm from his, curves into a reluctant smile. "Eddie."

He's a breath away. "What, sweetheart?"

Oh, oh. You're in trouble.

"You gotta stop kissing me," you say, as your fingers trail down his chest. He's so solid, warm under your touch. Your hands settle on his waist, and you grip the worn denim of his jeans to tug him closer even as you keep talking, trying to remember why you even wanted this breakup in the first place. "I'm, uh, working on getting over you."

"How's that going, by the way?"

"Terrible."

Eddie just laughs. "It is, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," you say. "But, see, I have a plan, and your kissing is messing up my plan. And my plan is a good one. So, don't mess it up. Please."

Eddie watches you, that fond, slightly smug smile on his lips again. He takes one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, mouth lingering, his breath warm, eyes still on yours. "Tell me about this plan, then."

You make an indignant sound and try to tug your hand away. "It involves trying to spend less time with you, Eds. Like, you know, avoiding parties at friend's houses and all that. Gotta avoid those kinds of situations."

He presses his forehead against yours, and you sigh, leaning into the touch. "Why, exactly?"

"Because it's too... it's just too hard. It's really hard."

"I'll give you something hard, if you want," he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You can't help but laugh. "You are the worst."

But maybe that's exactly what you need.

Well...that plan was doomed from the start anyway.

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emcbees · 2 years

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So whenever I need to come up with names for npcs in video games I simply pick a random town name in England for maximum enjoyment and I’d like to share some of my favorites:

- Blaby

- Osgathorpe

- Dadlington

- Burbage

- Farm Town

- Hugglescote

- Snibston

- Barton in the Beans

#yes these are real names #they bring me so much joy

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cloudshuffle · 3 months

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What are some of the nasty/creepy things they do to reader in the nobility au? Like the book sniffing thing

arranged by least to most creepy >:)

nobility au

boothill

something about boothill tells me that he’s not very capable of being nasty. or more like he’s not interested in it? he’s a straightforward guy, much preferring to meet you face to face and be in your presence, even if you do always tell him that you’re busy! he knows that’s untrue.

the most boothill has done was follow you around, sussing out your daily schedule with ease. he is a bounty hunter, after all, and a high-profile little miss such as yourself is no trouble for him at all. he tells himself that he’s just another bodyguard, protecting you from the shadows, but all the while he longs to be out in the daylight, enjoying the town with you.

boothill’s not so much creepy than persistent to me, like a puppy left out in the rain that you really can’t adopt but keeps returning to paw at your door. and eventually you have to give in some time, which brings him more joy than anything else in the world.

aventurine

yes, apart from the book sniffing, i imagine he does a lot of sniffing besides, like burying his nose into your hair or kissing your neck and inhaling deeply. (isn’t it said that women apply perfume where they want to be kissed?)

if we want to talk even creepier, maybe he once snuck into the laundry under the guise of ensuring the maids were working and nabbed a piece of your clothing. doesn’t need to be your underwear - i imagine he’d be happy with something more innocent, like a glove. it’s oddly romantic, the way he holds it to his face while sleeping, like it’s your real hand he’s holding.

in the grand scheme of things, i think aventurine isn’t that bad. it could really be worse.

sunday

he watches.

truly, he stands in corners and shadowy alcoves, doing nothing but watching you go about your day. he pops up in places where you least expect him, like, say, the stables. and when he’s cooped up inside the palace with paperwork to do, sunday contents himself by watching you from the windows, laughing and chatting with friends. you’ll often feel someone’s gaze prickling on the back of your neck, but when you look around, you won’t be able to find anyone there. one of sunday’s many talents.

you’d better bet there’s been at least one occasion where he watched you take a bath - god knows how, but at least he did it with a lot of embarrassed blushing on his part. not to say that that’s stopped him ever.

there’s something very special to him about being able to inspect you like an unrefined gemstone under a magnifying glass. 10/10 would not recommend him in your house.

dr. ratio

now hear me out. he is not only a nerd, he is also a nerd with an overinflated ego. meaning that he can, and will, gaslight you into thinking he’s normal.

this sounds ridiculous but stay with me.

you’re having your typical one-on-one lesson with dr ratio. aventurine isn’t present as usual because he’s just going to be a nuisance, so it’s just you and your demanding tutor. he gives you some time to write up a short paragraph, and you lower your head and focus on the assignment.

ratio comes over to see what you have so far. he makes a brief comment. you nod and move to make changes. and suddenly you freeze, feeling fingers on the back of your neck.

you face feels hot. had you imagined it? wasn’t that a completely inappropriate move on his part? should you speak up?

as the professor moves toward the front of the classroom again, he acts like absolutely nothing just happened, raising an eyebrow. “are you feeling alright? your face looks warm.”

and you shake your head quickly, fanning yourself in embarrassment. no way he’d have the nerve to do something like that to do you. after all, he was your tutor… he’d be smarter than to jeopardise his position like that.

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writingduhh · 5 months

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Hii, i was wondering if you were able to write something for hansumfella (tyler) ? I was thinking he talks about him having a girlfriend but no body believes him until he finally brings her into a stream and everyone is amazed because they thought he was joking !! but anything works haven’t rlly seen hansumfella content !! 😅😅

YES!!!!!! Hope this is alright! It’s my first hansumfella fic so I’m super new at this….

Hansumfella || Stream Surprise

You and Tyler had been openly dating for several months, thoroughly enjoying the simplicity and joy your relationship brought into your lives. However, as Tyler's online alter ego, HansumFella, began to skyrocket in popularity, it became clear that managing your private and public lives would need some recalibration. Out of mutual concern for privacy and the unpredictable nature of internet fame, you both agreed it would be best to keep your relationship out of the public eye for the time being.

During one of his lively Roblox streams—a session filled with laughter and playful banter—Tyler unexpectedly let a secret slip, a revelation that even surprised him.

“And yeah, for those wondering why I’ve been a bit off-schedule lately, I’ve been spending some time with my amazing girlfriend,” he mentioned casually, taking a sip of water as the chat erupted into a frenzy.

“You what now, Tyler?!” one viewer exclaimed, their message quickly engulfed by a wave of shocked and curious reactions.

“HE HAS A GF?!”

“NOOOO 😭”

“GIRLFRIEND REVEAL”

“I knew it Ong”

“Proof or it didn’t happen.”

Despite the disbelief, Tyler merely chuckled and steered the conversation back to his gaming strategy, his relaxed demeanor doing little to stop the onslaught of comments.

“Alright chat, calm down I didn’t even say anything! You’re just imagining it! You’re gaslighting yourself. Let’s focus back to absolutely destroying children in best dressed” He jests in his usual dry sense of humor.

In the weeks that followed, each stream dedicated a few minutes to viewers probing for more details about you. Tyler kept his answers vague, strategically revealing just enough to maintain interest without confirming anything definitive.

“What does she look like?”

“Favorite thing about her?”

“I still think he’s lying.”

“Well she looks absolutely gorgeous. Absolute smoke show.” He playfully remarks before continuing.

“Favorite thing about her? Oo that’s a hard one, there’s so much to love. I’ll say sense of humor.”

The curiosity and incessant questioning from his fanbase eventually led Tyler to plan a significant reveal. On a crisp summer evening, his usual streaming time, Tyler adjusted his webcam to capture more than just his usual gaming setup.

“Alright, everyone,” Tyler announced as he started his stream, “tonight is a special night. You've all been incredibly patient—or incredibly nosy,” he joked with a wink at the camera. “I think it's time you meet someone very special to me.”

He reached out and extended a hand off-camera. After a brief moment, another hand appeared, and you stepped into view, your smile bright yet slightly shy as you waved to the camera.

“Hello stream! Is that what I call them?” You ask, a little overwhelmed with the situation

“You can call them whatever you like, babe.” He chuckles, pulling you to sit down beside him.

The chat paused for a split second before erupting.

“OMHH SHES REAL?!”

“She’s so beautiful!!”

“HE WASN’T LYING 💀”

“Literally how did he land her?”

“She’s ours now”

Tyler’s grin widened as he read the comments aloud, his arm comfortably encircling you as you sat comfortably on his lap.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s the reason I’ve been so distracted, so you can blame her for the lack of content.” He jests, earning a playful eye roll from you.

The stream proceeded exceptionally well. You were a natural, laughing and engaging with the chat as if you’d had been a part of the community for years. Tyler felt a mix of pride and relief; not only did his audience adore you, but him as well.

A few weeks after your debut on his stream, Tyler decided it was time to make your relationship Instagram official. He chose a candid photo of you two together, taken during a sunset hike. Both laughing, bathed in the golden hour light, capturing a beautiful moment.

Tyler uploaded the photo with the caption that simply read, “Mine ;)” and tagged you.

The post received thousands of likes and comments in no time. Fans and friends filled the comments section with hearts, congratulatory messages, and more than a few playful jabs at having doubted him in the first place.

Tyler leaned back, watching the notifications pop up one after another, you sitting beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Was it worth the wait?” Tyler asked, his voice a soft murmur.

“Definitely worth it,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

#hansumfella fanfic #hansumfella x reader #hansumfella #hansumfella tyler

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Text

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"If you cross her, then you cross me” I Matthew Knies☆

Requested: yes/no

Summary: After weeks apart, Matthew Knies finally sees his girlfriend again, his heart racing with anticipation. Yet, the sight of bruises on her arm brings a sharp reminder of why he hates being away from her.

Tropes & warnings: Matthew Knies x reader, established relationship, boyfriend!Kniesy, protective!Kniesy, no real harm (bruise), Smut 18+; Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes: So, we're at the final stop of our Followers Festival, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your input! Writing like this is always so much fun and thrilling, as it's pushing me to explore new challenges 🤗 Thank you so much for joining my little celebration and for reading my work ❤️ Lots of love!

Word count: 2.9K

➼｡ﾟ

You and your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been apart for far too long.

Almost a year ago, your life had taken an unexpected yet wonderful turn, where it all started on a crisp autumn evening when you decided to attend a charity event organised by your company. You hadn’t particularly been enthusiastic about going, but it was for a good cause, and as the newest (and youngest) hire, you felt obliged to make an appearance.

The venue was a beautiful old mansion converted into an event space, filled with elegantly dressed guests, soft music, and the hum of polite conversation. And almost lost in your own thoughts, you casually wandered around, occasionally mingling with colleagues and sampling the delicious hors d'oeuvres, when you suddenly spotted a tall, handsome man across the room. He had a relaxed confidence about him, and you couldn't help but notice the way he smiled as he chatted with a group of people.

Then feeling the need to hold onto something for comfort, you made your way over to the refreshment table near where he stood. And as luck would have it, you both reached for the same glass of champagne at the same time, where the tall man simply laughed, a warm, genuine sound, and motioned for you to take it.

“Looks like we have the same taste,” he said with a grin.

You smiled back, feeling a spark of something you couldn’t quite identify. “I guess we do.”

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he introduced casually, extending his hand.

“I'm y/n,” you replied softly, shaking his hand in a polite and friendly manner. His grip was firm yet reassuring, and you found yourself immediately at ease.

And from that small moment, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You discovered that Matthew was a professional hockey player, currently enjoying some downtime before the new season began. He was charming and down-to-earth, with a passion for the sport that was infectious. You shared stories about your jobs, your interests, and your families, finding common ground in unexpected places.

So, as the evening progressed, you both found yourselves gravitating towards each other, enjoying the easy banter and undeniable chemistry. When the event then started to wind down, Matthew hesitated for a moment before asking if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime.

“I'd love that,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement.

And so, your relationship began. The first coffee date turned into a series of outings—dinners, walks in the park, movie nights—each one bringing you closer together. Matthew’s schedule was hectic, but he always made time for you, and you quickly found yourself falling for him faster than you had ever thought possible.

By the time you reached the six-month mark, you knew this was something truly special. Despite the challenges of his demanding career and your own busy life, the bond you shared only grew stronger. The time apart was hard, but it made the moments together even more precious.

The off-season brought you nothing but more joy and excitement into your life. Matthew had invited you to spend a few weeks in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, where you were introduced to everyone.

And those weeks in Phoenix were nothing but magical, filled with warm, sun-soaked days and cool, starry nights. You visited his favourite childhood spots, hiked the stunning desert trails, and shared countless meals with his family, where his parents welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

Matthew took you to some of his favourite local hangouts, where you met his old friends who regaled you with stories of their younger days. And you could easily see the deep bonds he had with them, which made you feel even closer to him. The evenings were your favourite, spent on the porch of his family’s home, sipping cold drinks and watching the spectacular Arizona sunsets.

Those quiet moments, where you could simply enjoy each other's company without any interruptions, were what you cherished the most.

But as wonderful as those weeks had been, reality eventually intruded, and you were called back to return to work. Matthew stayed back as he was busy with off-season training, his days then filled with rigorous workouts and team meetings, while your own days were consumed by the demands of your job.

Though you both tried to keep in touch with nightly video calls and sweet text messages throughout the day, it was never quite the same as being together. The screen could never capture the warmth of his touch or the comfort of his presence.

The nights were lonely, and the days felt endless without him. The ache of missing him settled deep in your chest, a constant reminder of the distance between you. You threw yourself into work, trying to fill the void, but it was a poor substitute for the man you loved. Weekends were the hardest. You'd find yourself aimlessly wandering the apartment, lingering over the photos of the two of you scattered around, each one a painful reminder of what you were missing.

And sensing your melancholy, your friends decided to cheer you up. So, they dragged you out one night, determined to lift your spirits. They took you to a lively bar downtown, where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of loud, pulsing music. And for a while, it worked. The drinks flowed, laughter came easily, and the music helped drown out your thoughts as you danced with your girlfriends, trying to forget how much you missed Matthew.

But then, amid the flashing lights and the thumping bass, a man approached you. At first, he seemed harmless, just another person looking to have a good time. But as the night wore on, his behaviour became more insistent. He moved closer, invading your personal space, and his touch lingered on your arm longer than was comfortable. You tried to signal politely but firmly that you weren’t interested, yet he didn’t seem to take the hint. At one point, his grip even tightened around your wrist, and though you managed to pull away, the encounter left you shaken.

Nothing overtly dangerous happened, but his touch left you feeling unsettled. You felt a surge of anger and frustration, not just at the man who had crossed the line, but at the circumstances that had left you vulnerable and alone. You wished Matthew had been there, his presence a shield against the world.

Fortunately, only two days later, you stood at the airport, your heart pounding with anticipation. The noise of the bustling crowd, the rolling of suitcases, and the constant announcements over the intercom all faded into the background as you anxiously scanned the throngs of people for a familiar face. Every second felt like an eternity. But then, through the sea of strangers, you finally spotted him. Matthew’s tall frame and broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Your heart leapt as your eyes met his, and you saw his face break into a wide grin that mirrored your own. And without a moment's hesitation, you dashed towards him, your feet barely touching the ground. When you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. And effortlessly, he lifted you slightly off the ground as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear, his voice rough with emotion.

“Missed you too,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest. The relief of being in his embrace after so long was overwhelming, washing over you in waves. You could feel the tension of the past weeks melt away as you clung to him, savouring the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart.

So, with no intention of wasting a single moment, you grabbed his hand and headed straight for the car. The drive to your shared apartment was filled with stolen glances and soft touches, the air between you crackling with anticipation. And by the time you reached your place, the need to be close to each other was almost too much to bear.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Matthew’s lips were already on yours, the urgency of your reunion clear in every kiss. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if to make up for the lost time. Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled with his jacket, eager to feel his skin against yours. You barely made it to the living room before clothes began to come off, a trail of discarded garments marking your path to the bedroom.

And once in the bedroom, Matthew’s hands explored your body, rediscovering every curve he had missed. His touch was both tender and demanding, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. The kisses grew more passionate as he explored your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you.

He knew your body like a map he’d charted himself, but his touch faltered when he encountered a mark on your arm—a bruise that hadn’t been there before. So, he pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the bruise.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was rough, filled with concern and barely-contained anger. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his protective instincts flaring up.

“It’s nothing, Matts,” you said, trying to downplay it. “Just some guy at a bar… it’s not a big deal.”

“No, this is something!” His eyes were fierce, the protective side of him coming to the fore. “A guy touched you? And bruised you?”

“It looks worse than it was…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle but firm grip on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

Matthew’s face softened slightly, but the anger in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I don’t like thinking about someone else touching you.”

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “I’m alright. I’m here with you now. That’s what matters.”

His gaze remained intense, but then he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a deep, passionate kiss that stole every bit of air from your lungs. His hands were rough yet tender, conveying the love and longing that had built up over the past weeks. And the kiss was an attempt to claim you, to remind you of his presence and devotion, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions in every movement—how his lips pressed against yours, how his hands held you close. It was as if he was pouring all the missed moments and unspoken words into that one kiss.

And then, Matthew’s focus shifted to ensuring your pleasure, his touch expert and attentive. He started by exploring your body with his mouth, trailing kisses down your jawline and along the valley of your breasts. He lingered briefly at each nipple before continuing downward, moving past your belly button to your core.

Light moans escaped you as he settled between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs. He then kissed around your needy centre, his touch both deliberate and tender.

“Please, Matts. I need you,” you whimpered softly, your hand finding his brown locks, as if to pull him closer.

But Matthew just smirked against your skin, tightening his grip before he finally indulged in the craving he’d been holding back. Skillfully, he licked up your folds, drawing moans from you—sweet music to his ears as he savoured your tasty honey.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out, your head sinking deeper into the pillow below you, your fingers gripping his hair. “Mmm, more…”

And your plea was his command. He licked you several times, making sure to explore all of your sensitive areas, before focusing on your sensitive clit. Sucking and nipping, he wasted no time in drawing louder moans from you. And as he sensed your light squirming under his touch, feeling the power he held over you, he worked his skilled mouth with determination.

“Mmm, taste so fucking delicious, baby,” he hummed huskily into your core as he ate you out you like a starved man getting his first meal in months.

“Fuck,” you cried softly as you felt the arousal build within you, a familiar wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You were approaching your climax, and the ecstasy intensified as Matthew continued to suck on your sensitive bead of nerves, making you shut your eyes tightly. And when he then added his long fingers into the mix, it didn’t take long before his skilled tongue pushed you to your first orgasm.

“I’m gonna cu—Matts, I’m coming!”

The sensation was intense, a welcome relief from the tension of your separation.

And as Matthew looked up from between your legs, urging you to meet his gaze, a satisfied smirk played on his lips. “It’s good to be home.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile either, the rush of your orgasm still lingering as he gently moved to hover over you. Feeling the need to shift positions, you then signalled for him to lie on his back.

And Matthew naturally obliged. He always enjoyed when you tried to take charge—emphasis on *trying*, as you both knew that even when you were on top, he was still the one truly in control.

Yet, as you positioned yourself on top of him, you led with fervour and passion. His length was larger than any man you’d experienced before, but whenever he was inside you, it felt like your bodies melded perfectly together. You rolled your hips smoothly, his hands guiding you gently, as your palms pressed firmly on his muscular chest, giving you support to increase your pace at his unspoken command. Then with his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive clit, Matthew helped you reach another peak. Arching your back and clenching around him, you let his name slip from your lips in a deep moan.

It was a blissful moment as you reached your second orgasm. However, as the rhythm of your movements built, Matthew’s own desire surged. So, with a swift motion, he turned you around into missionary, where he effortlessly took control and began pounding into you with primal intensity. His movements were relentless, driven by his need for release.

It had been too long. Too long since he had felt himself inside you, too long since he’d climaxed under your touch.

His breathing was erratic, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the echo of skin slapping against skin throughout the room. Your nails dug into the back of his shoulders, and the force of his thrusts pushed both of you to the brink, each touch and movement designed to make the experience as overwhelming and fulfilling as possible.

“Fuck baby…. Oh yes,” he groaned deeply as he spilled his release into you, gasping for air. Matthew knew he finished sooner than he’d usually do, but given the time apart, it was no surprise to either of you.

Besides, you were already satisfied with your own rather quick orgasms he’d caused you.

You both panted deeply, surprised by how intense and satisfying the reunion felt, more so than you had anticipated. And as you lay tangled in the sheets, the aftermath of your intimacy left both of you spent but content. Yet, you could sense something lingering in Matthew’s demeanour—a worry that hadn’t quite been erased.

“What’s wrong, my love?” you asked softly, tuning slightly to face your incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his Arizona tan.

But Matthew just brushed a strand of hair from your face, his voice tender and sincere. “I just don’t like thinking of someone else touching you.”

“Then don’t think about it,” you replied, resting a hand on his chest. “Nothing happened. I’m here with you now.”

“But still… if someone crosses you, they also cross me,” he said, his tone resolute and protective. “And I’m not going to let it go. If I knew who it was, I’d…”

“You’d what? Risk your career by punching a stranger in the face?” you chuckled lightly with a cocked brow.

“No,” Matthew breathed out softly. “I just wanted to make them pay for doing anything like this to you…”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, touched by his fierce loyalty. “You’re wonderful, Matts. But I can take care of myself when you’re not here. You don’t need to go around and punch people for me.”

“I know you can,” he said, gently pulling you even closer. “I just… I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. And… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not now, not ever.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reassuring him.

Matthew’s arms tightened around you, a final, tender embrace as the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, all the fears and uncertainties of the past few weeks faded away, leaving only the certainty of your love for each other.

Well, Matthew, of course, couldn’t let it go completely. So, he interrogated your friends, pressing them for any information about who might have done this to you, earning light chuckles from all of you. However, as weeks passed, the bruises fading, and the hockey season began, the incident faded into the background.

#500 followers festival #mk23 #matthew knies imagine #matthew knies smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey smut #nhl imagine

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