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airybcby · 7 months ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

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harrysfolklore · 9 months ago

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max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

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heavenlybodies333 · 26 days ago

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Caught. On. Camera. -S.R part II here

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

You should’ve called in sick.

Broken your leg.

Faked your own death.

Anything would’ve been preferable to what you were walking into now. You should’ve known the BAU’s security team didn’t fuck around.

You should’ve known.

Because when you walked into the bullpen that morning, coffee in hand and still slightly flushed from the very good, very illegal orgasm Spencer had given you against a locked conference room wall at 9:07 the night before, the last thing you expected was for evidence of it to be printed and waiting for you.

Fuck. No. No, no, no.

Your stomach dropped like an elevator in freefall. You stepped fully into the bullpen—and then you saw it.

Your desk.

Spencer’s desk.

Each with a stack of paper.

Not files. Not case notes.

Photos.

Black and white grainy photos.

Security footage.

Of you.

Of Spencer.

Photos of you and Spencer doing things that should never be in 1080p resolution.

Of Spencer pressed up behind you in a darkened hallway, one hand under your skirt, the other tangled in your hair as your head tilted back in a way that could only be described as criminally pornographic.

There was another photo—his mouth on your neck, your hand down his pants, the two of you shamelessly caught mid-moan in what looked like Hotch’s own damn federal building.

You barely had time to register the color draining from your face before Spencer walked in right behind you. You saw the exact moment his brain caught up to what his eyes were seeing.

He froze mid-step. Then his gaze snapped to you—panicked, pale, already calculating a dozen potential exits and failing to land on a single one.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The only thing louder than your panic was the sound of your father’s voice behind you.

“My office. Now.” Hotch’s tone left zero room for debate.

You turned—slow, like a horror movie—and there he was.

Standing on the mezzanine, leaning against the railing, was your father, SSA Aaron Hotchner. Arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Gaze locked directly on you like he was watching a slow-motion train crash. He turned and walked toward his office without looking back.

Which meant you had approximately ten seconds to say goodbye to your job, your sex life, and potentially Spencer Reid’s entire existence.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, grabbing the papers and crumpling them in one furious, humiliated fist. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared a look at Spencer—who had just walked in behind you and froze mid-step like someone had hit him with a tranq dart.

“Oh,” he said faintly. “That’s… bad.”

“No shit, Reid.”

Morgan didn’t help. “So that’s what ‘after hours paperwork’ means. Got it.”

“Derek,” JJ said quickly, nudging him with an elbow, but the damage was done.

Emily appeared from the break room, coffee in hand, sipping like it was tea. “I told you guys to watch the cameras. But nooo, why listen to the profiler who’s been caught on video twice?”

“Three times,” JJ corrected, grinning.

Emily pointed her cup at her. “That last one didn’t count, we were undercover.”

“You were making out in the conference room.”

“Under. Cover.”

Spencer looked like he was actively negotiating with the universe to collapse into the floor and swallow him whole. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, eyes darting between you, the photos, and the hallway that led to Hotch’s office like he could somehow reverse time through sheer panic.

The walk to Hotch’s office felt like a funeral procession. When you reached the top of the stairs, he didn’t gesture for you to sit. He just shut the door with a click that sounded eerily like the end of your lives.

“I’ll speak first,” he said, voice clipped. “Before either of you attempt to justify whatever the hell this is.”

Spencer opened his mouth anyway.

“Don’t.”

He shut it.

Hotch stepped around his desk, looking between the two of you like he was trying to not imagine the exact images now burned into his retinas.

“I trusted you,” he said, looking at Spencer.

Spencer physically flinched. “I know.”

“I asked you to keep her safe.”

“You did.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

You stepped forward. “Dad—”

He held up a hand.

“I don’t want excuses. I don’t want apologies. I want answers. How long?”

You hesitated.

Spencer caved.

“Eight months.”

You turned and stared at him. “Spencer.”

“What? He’s gonna kill me either way, might as well be honest.”

Hotch looked like he was doing long division in his head. “Eight months… that’s before the Miami case.”

You nodded.

“You lied to me. Both of you.”

“That’s not fair,” you said. “It wasn’t just lying, it was… omission. Careful omission.”

Spencer shot you a look like now is not the time for semantics.

“You were in my house, Reid. With her.”

Spencer swallowed. “I slept on the couch.”

“Bullshit.” Hotch stopped pacing. Faced you both.

“There’s a security breach because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in the elevator? And now the entire team knows.”

“They don’t know—” you started.

“Oh, they know.” He gestured to the photos. “The FBI knows. Internal Affairs is going to love this. And I am trying—very hard—not to send you off to college halfway around the world.”

Silence.

Then, he turned his glare directly onto Spencer. “You. Are thirteen years older than her. You’re her coworker. Her superior. And you thought it was a good idea to sleep with my daughter?”

There was a very long, very painful pause.

“You are adults. Technically. You make your own decisions. Stupid ones, apparently.”

“Sir—” Spencer started.

“I’m not finished.” His eyes narrowed. “If either of you ever—and I mean ever—do anything like that on federal property again, I will have both your asses in front of Strauss so fast she’ll develop a stroke mid-sentence.”

“Yes, sir,” you both said.

“And Reid?”

Spencer flinched.

Hotch took a step forward. “I swear to god, if I ever see your hands on my daughter again outside the context of saving her from a serial killer—”

“Understood, sir.”

He took a deep breath. “I am going to say this once. Whatever this is—” he gestured sharply at the photos “—it ends. Today.”

Silence.

Spencer looked like he’d been punched.

You just blinked.

“Ends?” you echoed, numb.

Hotch’s jaw clenched. “I can’t have this kind of recklessness on my team. You’re compromising each other in the field, and if it goes public—”

Spencer tried to speak. “Hotch, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” your father cut in sharply. “There is going to be an internal review. A written reprimand. And if either of you ever pull something like this again—”

You couldn’t help yourself. “We’re not children—”

“You’re my child,” Hotch snapped, turning to you. “And he’s my agent. Which makes this entire situation a professional and personal disaster. And if you think I’m going to just let it slide because you’re my daughter, you’re dead wrong.”

You dropped your gaze, tears welling in your eyes. “You know what the worst part is?” he said, angrily. “It’s not that you violated federal property regulations. It’s not even that you breached the most basic professional ethics.”

Your breath caught.

“It’s that you thought I wouldn’t find out.”

Ouch.

You shrank under his stare. Spencer looked like he might vomit.

“Sir,” Spencer started. “I never meant for—”

Hotch held up a hand. “Dr. Reid. If you want any chance of keeping your job, I suggest you don’t finish that sentence.”

Spencer looked like he wanted to fold into the floor. “Sir, I care about her. I didn’t—I don’t—take this lightly. I know how it looks.”

“You don’t,” Hotch said flatly. “You don’t know anything about what it looks like. To a father. To a boss.”

The room fell quiet.

Then Hotch exhaled, long and slow. He looked tired. Disappointed. Which, honestly, was so much worse than shouting.

“I’m going to step away before I say something I regret,” he said. “But let me make this clear.”

He looked between the two of you—scathing, cold, unreadable. “This ends now. Or you both walk.”

You didn't realize you were holding your breath until he walked out of his own office, leaving the door open behind him like a gaping wound. You could still hear your heart pounding, see the grainy black-and-white ghosts of your bad decisions fluttering like confetti across your memory.

Spencer swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to say eight months,” he whispered.

You turned to him slowly. “Really, Spence? That’s the problem here?”

“I panicked.”

“No kidding.” Your voice cracked under the weight of it all. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Spencer sat on the edge of Hotch’s desk, his hands knotted between his knees. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

You snorted. “You’ve never dated his daughter before.”

He winced. “Technically, I still am.”

You looked at him sharply. “Are you?”

Spencer’s breath caught.

Because that was the part no one had said yet. That was the part hanging over you like a guillotine. This ends now. Or you both walk.

The ultimatum wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t negotiable.

You or the job.

Each other or everything else.

And Spencer Reid didn’t just love the BAU. It was in his bones. It was his purpose, his structure, his sanity.

“Are you?” you asked again, softer this time.

He didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, he crossed the room, dropped to a crouch in front of you, and took your shaking hands in his. “I want to say that it doesn’t matter. That I’d pick you every time.”

You stared at him, already hearing the but coming.

“But I can’t lose this job,” he whispered, pained. “It’s not just work. It’s lives. It’s you, too. And if I stay, I can’t be with you.”

You felt something fracture inside your chest.

“So that’s it?”

He looked up at you, haunted. “If I thought I could walk away and still protect you… if I thought you’d be safe—”

Your laugh was hollow. “I’m not a victim, Spence.”

“I know. I know that. But you’re his daughter. And I was supposed to—God, I was supposed to be better than this.”

Your throat tightened. “I don’t want to end it.”

“Neither do I.”

He closed his eyes. “Tell me not to go. Tell me to walk away from all of it, and I will.”

You opened your mouth—and then stopped.

Because you could see it in his eyes.

You couldn’t do that to him.

Not when he was already tearing himself apart just to stand in front of you.

“No,” you whispered. “I won’t be the reason you leave.”

“Then this is the part where I say goodbye.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Spencer reached for your hand one last time. Pressed a kiss to your knuckles like he was memorizing the weight of it. “I meant it,” he said quietly. “Every second. Even the ones on camera.”

A bitter smile cracked through your tears. “Yeah. Me too.”

Then he stood.

And walked out of Hotch’s office.

And you sat there alone, trying to decide which was worse:

That your father had been right.

Or that you'd loved Spencer Reid enough to let him go.

a/n: age ain’t nothing but a NUMBERRR

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x you #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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verstappenverse · 2 months ago

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hmm Max x leclerc!reader who maybe has had a crush on him since the inchident days and they’re rly cute together

Something Like a Crush

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Summary: Twelve years after the infamous 'inchident', you’re still trying (and failing) to pretend you don’t have a crush on Max Verstappen.

2.4k words / Masterlist

You were ten years old when you first saw him roll his eyes on camera.

Max Verstappen, just fourteen at the time, sitting beside your brother in that now-infamous press conference after “the inchident.” He looked small at the table, short legs barely brushing the floor, arms crossed too tightly over his chest, but his expression was all sharp defiance and unfiltered frustration. His hair was messy, his cheeks still a little round with childhood, but his eyes? His eyes were furious.

Charles had been irritated too, he always was when someone dared to challenge him on track, especially during those high-stakes junior karting weekends. But where your brother was learning to smooth the edges, to answer with careful diplomacy, Max hadn’t figured out how to bite his tongue yet.

He spoke with his whole body, fidgeting in his seat, hands moving wildly as he gestured through his explanation if it could be called that. More like a defence. A barely-contained storm. He interrupted. He scoffed. He looked like he wanted to launch himself out of the chair and straight back into the kart just to prove a point.

And you? You were completely, hopelessly captivated.

Not that you understood what it all meant at ten years old, but you watched every race, every replay, every interview that came after, and that press conference had something different. Something that made your skin prickle with attention.

All you knew was that this Dutch boy with the sharp voice and restless hands had the exact same look on his face your brother got when someone touched his kart without asking. That fierce, simmering expression that meant: This is mine. Don’t mess with it.

You liked that. A lot.

You didn’t even know the weight of his name then, not really. Just Max, muttered under Charles’s breath when he was in a bad mood. “Max this” and “Max that” and “bloody Verstappen.”

You were too young to call it a crush, but years later when you did understand what it meant to feel butterflies, when you found yourself staring a little too long across the paddock, you’d trace the feeling back to that grainy video, to the boy with fire in his chest and rage in his hands, defending himself against your brother like he had nothing to lose.

You’d watched that press conference more times than you’d ever admit.

And maybe, in a way that only ten-year-old girls with scraped knees and delusions of future karting glory can, you’d decided then and there that Max Verstappen was yours.

You’d only met him in passing back then. Dragged along to circuits while Charles went off to race. But one moment stuck in your memory, warm and a little fuzzy at the edges, like something pulled out of an old scrapbook.

You’d been in Spain, if you remembered right. One of those endless karting weekends that all blurred together, heat shimmering off the track, the smell of petrol and tire rubber, your mother fussing with your sunhat, Charles already stomping away helmet in hand.

You’d wandered toward the drivers' area, trailing a melting ice cream, and found Max sitting alone on a stack of tires behind one of the garages, elbows on his knees, brows furrowed in concentration as he picked at a busted glove.

You recognised him immediately, though you pretended not to.

He looked up as you approached and you stopped a few feet away, unsure if you were allowed to be there.

“Your brother’s mad at me,” he said, without preamble.

You blinked, surprised he even knew who you were. “He’s always mad at someone.”

Max grinned at that, a quick flash of teeth. “Usually me.”

There was a beat of quiet. You shifted your weight, suddenly aware of the ice cream dripping down your wrist.

“Want some?” you offered, a little shy. “It’s strawberry.”

He eyed it like you’d handed him a ticking bomb. “It’s pink.”

“So?”

“I don’t eat pink things.”

You frowned. “That’s stupid.”

He laughed then, really laughed and took the cone from you anyway, wiping the side with the edge of his sleeve before taking a bite. You watched him swallow like he was trying to decide if this had been a mistake.

“It’s not bad,” he admitted eventually.

“Told you.”

He handed it back without looking at you, but his smile lingered. “You’re cool.”

You’d gone red to your ears. You remembered that part especially well.

It wasn’t a long interaction. A few minutes, maybe. But it had been the first time you saw him not as Max Verstappen, the boy your brother fought with, but as just Max. A kid. A little proud. A little weird. Surprisingly sweet.

And maybe that was the worst part, how vividly it stayed with you. How that one stupid, sticky, sunburnt afternoon lived rent-free in your memory even now.

Sometimes you wondered if he remembered it too. Sometimes you hoped he didn’t, because that would mean he’d seen your flushed cheeks, your clumsy hands, your starry-eyed crush forming in real time.

And you’d never quite shaken it. Not even now. Not even when Max Verstappen stood across the paddock, a four-time world champion in Red Bull colours, watching you with a smirk like he already knew every single thing you were trying not to feel.

Twelve years later, yours had turned into something far more inconvenient. What had started as a childhood fascination, an innocent, fleeting curiosity about the boy with too much fire in his chest had rooted itself somewhere deeper.

You were no longer the little sister trailing behind Charles in the paddock, clutching your pass with sticky fingers and swinging your legs under folding chairs during debriefs. You didn’t just belong in the paddock anymore.

You were paddock royalty in your own right.

F2 Champion. The youngest in years. Newly announced reserve driver for Ferrari. The slightly younger, slightly less temperamental Leclerc sibling, still smiling for the cameras, still fluent in three languages, still polished enough to carry the family name, but fierce enough to make it your own.

People didn’t just ask about your brother anymore. They asked about you.

And yet, somehow despite all of it you were still, hopelessly, a little bit in love with Max Verstappen.

Which was a problem. A very stupid, very complicated, Charles-shaped problem.

Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Especially not with your brother still lurking in every corner of the paddock, always watching, always listening, still very capable of murder.

He had threatened Max once. Not outright. Not in a way that would ever make it into the press. Just a quiet, offhand comment delivered over a shared drink in the lounge after a chaotic sprint race in Austria.

“Don’t even think about it, I'll break your wrist.” Charles had said, calm as anything, not even looking up from his phone.

Max, to his credit, had just laughed, but you’d been there. You’d heard the edge in Charles’s voice. You’d seen the way Max’s smile twitched, like he knew exactly what was being said and exactly what would happen if he pushed it.

You remembered it very clearly.

Apparently, so did Max, because even now, years later, there was something deliberate about the way he looked at you. The way his gaze slid sideways instead of head-on. The way his jokes stopped just short of flirtation. Like he was holding himself back, not because he didn’t want to say the words, but because he didn’t trust the consequences if he did.

You weren’t sure if it made you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Sometimes both.

And the worst part? You didn’t know if the tension between you was real or just a shared, unspoken game that neither of you had the guts to end.

Because despite all the wins, the interviews, the champagne, you were still the girl who once gave him her half-eaten ice cream behind the garages in Spain. And he was still the boy who made your heart stutter when he smiled like he knew every version of you that had ever existed.

You stood at the edge of the hospitality suite now, your eyes flicking again to the Red Bull garage across the way. Max leaned against the wall like he hadn’t a care in the world, race suit unzipped to his waist, white fireproof clinging to him in a way that made your brain short-circuit.

He laughed at something his race engineer said, and your chest squeezed tight.

Beside you, Carlos didn’t even bother looking up from his phone. “You’re staring.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.”

“You’ve been staring at him since we walked in,” he muttered. “Since... 2011 really.”

You elbowed him, cheeks hot. “Shut up.”

Carlos grinned. “One of these days, you’re gonna have to do something about it. Preferably when Charles is in another time zone.”

“I don’t have a thing to do something about.”

“Mmhmm.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, but your eyes still flicked back toward the garage, like they had a mind of their own. And of course that’s when Max looked up. Of course.

His gaze caught yours. Held it.

Your stomach dropped.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t pretend he hadn’t seen you watching. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, like he was amused and gave you a lazy, knowing half-smile that made your breath catch.

Damn it.

“He’s walking over,” Carlos said, not even pretending to hide his amusement.

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

Carlos stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Should I give you two some privacy? Or just text Charles now and save everyone the trouble?”

“I swear to God—”

But it was too late. You turned and Max was already close, just a few feet away, walking like he had all the time in the world, like he didn’t also look unfairly good under fluorescent lighting.

He smiled at you and Carlos, easy and warm, but his eyes lingered on you a second too long.

“Afternoon, Leclerc” he greeted smoothly, voice low and a little smug. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” you blurted too fast.

Carlos grinned. “Her crush.”

You were going to kill him.

Max raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

You shot Carlos a glare so deadly he actually stood up, clearly deciding to spare himself. “I’ll leave you two,” he said casually. “Good luck with the… crush.”

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Max turned back to you slowly, arms folding across his chest, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So…”

You crossed your arms. “He’s an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Max agreed, then paused. “Is it true?”

You blinked. “Is what true?”

He tilted his head. “That you have a crush.”

“I—” You swallowed. “That depends.”

Max’s eyes twinkled. “On what?”

You tried to keep your voice steady. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

He stepped closer, just enough to make your breath catch. “Of course not”

There was a beat of silence. Your heart was doing gymnastics.

“Then maybe,” you said softly, voice barely above the noise of the paddock, eyes locked with his. “Maybe it’s true.”

His lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it. Not really. You watched something flicker behind his eyes, surprise, maybe.

He didn’t speak right away just studied your face like he was trying to memorise it. Then, finally.

“You know Charles threatened to kill me once,” he murmured. “Told me not to look at you for more than five seconds at a time.”

You laughed nervously. “I remember.”

“I think I timed myself for a year after that,” he said with a soft smile. “Four seconds, look away. Four seconds, look away.”

You stared at him. “Seriously?”

His smile faded just a little, the teasing slipping from his features until only something soft remained, something honest. His eyes gentled, tone dropping into something more careful. “I’ve liked you since before I knew how to handle it. Since before it was allowed to be anything.”

Your breath caught.

He looked away briefly, then back at you, and there was something achingly sincere in the way he said it. “And then you started racing. Kicking ass. Winning everything. Being smarter than half the grid and not even pretending to downplay it. And you grew up, and I started seeing you for you, and then it was just…” He shook his head with a helpless little shrug. “Game over.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe.

Your mouth opened. Closed. Your voice was quiet, uneven. “Seriously?”

Max nodded, almost shy now. “Inchident days.”

You blinked, dazed. “I was like… ten.”

“And you were already cooler than me,” he said, eyes crinkling a little, like it was obvious. Like it had always been obvious.

You laughed, sudden and bright, because what else could you do when the ground was shifting under your feet?

But it was short-lived, because your chest was suddenly too tight, your thoughts tripping over themselves, years of doubt trying to catch up to reality.

“I thought I was imagining it,” you admitted, and your voice cracked, just slightly. “I’ve felt like the idiot for so long, like it was just me stuck in some schoolgirl fantasy I never grew out of. You’d look at me and I’d feel it and then you’d blink and it was gone, and I’d spend hours convincing myself I made it all up.”

Max’s expression softened even further, and he stepped closer not enough to touch, not yet, but enough that you could feel the heat of him.

“It wasn’t just you,” he said again, firmer this time. “It was never just you.”

It felt like a mirage. Like something your brain had conjured in the haze of too many years and too many unspoken moments. You half expected it to vanish if you reached for it.

But it didn’t. Because Max was still looking at you like that with the quiet weight of someone who’d been holding this just as tightly, just as secretly, all this time. Your heart couldn’t tell the difference between disbelief and something dangerously close to joy.

He nodded. “Been wanting to ask for years, I think I've finally realised I’d rather risk getting punched in the face than keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel every time I look at you."

Your heart twisted, painfully fond.

“Okay,” you said, heart hammering. “So what now?”

Max shrugged. “Now I ask if maybe, hypothetically, you’d want to grab a drink. Or a walk. Or maybe let me kiss you in a place where your brother definitely can’t see us.”

You smiled, cheeks burning. “All of the above?”

His grin was slow, devastating. “Good choice.”

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shigarosie · 10 months ago

Text

"Move the phone Tsuki," you whimper. "Can't see you face."

"Sorry," he mutters, moving the phone slightly off to the side but still pointed at you. "Trying to keep you in frame."

"This is so embarrassing," you whine, shoving your hands up over your face.

"Shut up," he says. There's no real malice behind it, just subtle annoyance. "And move your hands. You look hot."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. Why d'you think I wanted to film you, huh?"

Another whimper slips past your lips and you try to forget the camera pointed at your face, zoning in on Tsukishima's cock stroking in and out of you. It's casual, practiced, second nature at this point. He's not fucking you hard, that would make the video shaky. But it was good. Comfortable. He knew you, inside and out. You've spent every single night together for the past year and a half that you've lived together, but soon the streak would be broken as Tsuki would be traveling overseas for an archeology conference. Hence his request for a video- a request you suspect he'd been searching for an excuse to make for some time.

"Fucking pretty," he mumbles, his gaze flickering back and forth from screen to face. "Gonna miss making you make those faces while I'm gone."

"How am I gonna cum when you're gone?" You ask sincerely, a pout forming at the mere thought. "My fingers aren't the same as yours. My toys don't feel like you."

"Fuck," he whispers, taking a moment to adjust his hips before he starts fucking you at a different angle. It makes you squeal a bit, reaching out and grasping for his forearm as it grips one of your thighs. "You can't cum without me? Huh? You need my cock?"

"Yeah," you gasp, forgetting all about the camera pointed at you. He's been teasing you this whole time, avoiding the spot inside you that really gets you to the edge. "Need it so bad. Think about it all the time- fuck, Tsuki, just like that!"

"Gonna cum? Make it pretty for me baby, you know I'm gonna watch this over and over when I'm gone."

Tsuki keeps up the pace you like, giving you what you want to see satisfaction across your features. His pelvis grinds against you with every thrust, pressing against your clit and coating himself in your slick.

You don't have to try very hard to give him what he likes; a gasp and a whine as you look him in the eyes while you cum. He moves his phone so the camera's just under his eyes, so that when he watches it back later it still feels like you're making eye contact with him.

"Fuck, Keiiii," you squeal, riding out the pleasure as it pulses through you. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing and relaxing with the throbbing of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Tsuki breathes. "Fuck, feels so good- god, she's creaming."

A couple more thrusts and a couple more grunts and he's soon following suit, cumming inside of you.

"Look how pretty she is with my cum leaking out." He moves his phone down to get a close up as he sloooowly pulls out. When you whimper at the loss he sticks two fingers inside, massaging your walls and letting the milky white cream trickle down his hand. He ends the video after withdrawing those two fingers and pushing them past your lips for you to clean up, sweetness in your eyes as the stare directly into the camera.

"That was fucking hot," he sighs. "Won't be as good as the real thing, but at least I'll have the next best."

You lean up and kiss him, nibbling at his bottom lip.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," you pout. You reach over to the nightstand, grabbing your phone off the charger. "Now," you say, rolling him over onto his back and climbing on top, "it's my turn to get something to remember you by."

#posts from the meadow 🌼#another draft finally finished woohoo #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader smut #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x reader smut #kei tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima x reader smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu x reader smut #haikyu smut #hq x reader #hq x reader smut #hq smut

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mylaptopspares · 2 years ago

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rakshanarajeev · 2 years ago

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Best Wireless 4K PTZ Video Conference Camera - Benchmark

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charlotteking27 · 3 months ago

Text

Always You, Always Him

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris talks about how enamored he is with you all the time. He constantly searches for you, holds your hand when he wins, and gives you his first hug. Even a video compilation of his mentions was released by his fans.

warnings: none

"And what an amazing victory for McLaren's Lando Norris at the Monaco Grand Prix!"

The commentators' voices echo through the speakers, but Lando is already pulling off his helmet, looking for someone in the crowd. You know just who he’s searching for.

Amid the celebration, he spots you by the barrier. His big smile lights up his face as he jogs over, still in his race suit, completely ignoring the cameras and officials trying to direct him to the podium.

"There you are!" He pulls you into a warm hug, lifting you slightly off your feet. The cameras are rolling, but he doesn’t mind. "Did you see that last sector? I was thinking about what you said about being patient through Rascasse…"

"Lando, podium ceremony…" A team official approaches carefully.

"Just a minute," he waves them away, his arm still wrapped around you. He’s bubbling with excitement, telling you about every corner of his last lap.

"Lando, we really need to—"

"I said a minute!" There's that familiar stubbornness in his voice. He turns back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re coming up on the podium with me, right?"

Another official appears. "Lando, we’re holding up the ceremony…"

"Then they can wait," he replies, pulling you closer. "I just won Monaco; I think I deserve five minutes with my girlfriend." His thumb traces circles on your hand, the post-race adrenaline making him more affectionate than usual.

Zak Brown finally approaches, trying not to laugh. "Come on, lover boy. The champagne's getting warm."

"Fine, fine," Lando sighs dramatically but doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he starts walking toward the podium, pulling you with him. When the officials try to direct you somewhere else, he actually pouts. "No, she’s staying with me. She’s good luck—I just proved that, didn’t I?"

"Lando," you laugh, "you need to do the ceremony right."

"Then come back down and wait right there," he points to a spot by the stairs. "Where I can see you, promise?"

"Promise."

He keeps glancing at you during the entire ceremony, waving and pointing during the anthem like an excited kid at a school play. When the photos are done, he bounces down the steps three at a time, champagne bottle still in hand, and makes a beeline straight back to you.

The photographers erupt as he pulls you into another hug, champagne spraying everywhere. You can already imagine the headlines: "Norris Celebrates Monaco Win with Mystery Girl" or "Lando's Lucky Charm? His Girlfriend Steals the Show."

It’s always like this at the races. Before he even gets in the car, he finds you in the paddock for a good luck kiss, lingering just a bit longer while the cameras flash. The moment he’s out of the car, win or lose, he heads straight for you. There are countless photos of you two all over the internet: Lando holding your hand at the airport, Lando with his arm around you at team dinners, Lando stealing kisses in the garage between practice sessions. Your affection is always on display, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to hide it. It’s just you two.

One of your favorite pictures is a candid shot from Silverstone last year. It’s raining, and you’re huddled under an umbrella while Lando’s face is buried in your hair, his arms around you. You can almost feel the warmth from the picture. Moments like that, caught by chance, really tell your story.

"Lando, brilliant drive today. Can you talk us through that crucial overtake on lap 43?"

Lando is practically bouncing in his seat at the press conference, still glowing from the race. "Yeah, so that move was something my girlfriend and I discussed last night. She noticed in the practice footage that there was a small window if you positioned just right, and—" He beams with pride. "She has such a good eye for these things, you know?"

"Um, right… Moving on to tire management—"

"Oh! Speaking of tires," Lando interrupts eagerly, "she made this amazing spreadsheet tracking tire wear patterns. She’s really smart, my girlfriend. Did you know she—"

"Lando," the journalist tries again, "about the safety car period…"

"That was pretty tense, yeah. I was on the radio with my engineer, but all I could think about was this thing she told me about staying focused, right? You do meditation and—" He pauses, grinning at you in the back. "Sorry, she’s making faces at me from the back. Isn’t she cute when she’s trying to get me to focus?"

Another journalist raises her hand. "Can we discuss the championship implications of today’s victory?"

"Absolutely!" Lando nods seriously, then immediately breaks into another smile. "Actually, funny story—this morning at breakfast, she said… wait, where are you going?" He calls out to the departing journalists. "I haven’t told you about how she helped me perfect my racing line!"

Max Verstappen, sitting next to him, just shakes his head with a sly grin. "Mate, they’re going to rename these to 'Lando's Girlfriend Updates' instead of press conferences."

"Well, they should," Lando says earnestly. "She’s much more interesting than racing."

Later, during the post-race press conference, a journalist asks about his aggressive strategy during the middle stint. But Lando, being Lando, turns it into a story about how you'd helped him perfect his racing line through the swimming pool section during simulator practice.

Your phone buzzes with a text from his race engineer: "Another 'my girlfriend' mention - that's 7 this weekend. New record?😂"

The F1 Twitter account has already posted the clip, and the comments are pouring in: "Lando mentioning his gf challenge: IMPOSSIBLE DIFFICULTY" "Find someone who talks about you the way Lando talks about her😭" "Petition to give her a mic during races since he clearly can't go 5 mins without consulting her😂"

But that’s just Lando. Whether he’s at the track, doing interviews, or just hanging out at home playing sim racing, he’s always reaching for your hand, always finding ways to be close. His enthusiasm isn’t just about racing anymore—it’s about sharing every moment, every win, every challenge with you.

"You know they're making compilation videos of you talking about me in interviews, right?" you tell him later that evening.

He’s sprawled on the hotel couch, resting his head in your lap, still buzzing from the win. "Only volume three? They’re slacking," he grins, then gets that soft, sincere look that makes your heart skip. "I can't help it, can I? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

The funny thing is, nobody knows the half of it. From all the jokes about how he can't stop talking about you, to memes and compilation videos.

They don’t see the quiet moments—the good luck texts before every practice session, how he absentmindedly plays with your fingers during strategy meetings, how sometimes he has that awestruck look when he thinks you’re not watching.

In a world of fierce competitors and tight margins, Lando Norris, McLaren’s rising star, has somehow made your love story as much a part of his racing journey as podiums and pole positions. And honestly? You wouldn’t change a thing.

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satorena · 2 years ago

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✮⋆˙ I LUV WHEN WE GET FREAKY ON CAMERA !?

featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

warnings. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

rena’s note. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

#rena☆star.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut

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benchmarktechnomate · 2 years ago

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motorsportbarbie13 · 4 months ago

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Post It - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

warnings: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT. (spoiler alert, it's not) (i blame @lestapiastrisgirl. She’s a bad influence 🤭) no warnings really, i just needed to have some soft boyfriend coded lando in my life again after how dirty i did him in 'aftermath'. ENJOY THE NEW SERIES MY BABIES! 🫶🏻 pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 3.7k words (plus SMAU posts)

Lando should have been paying attention. He should have been paying attention to Jack Whitehall standing up on stage, making jokes at Max and George’s expense. He absolutely should not have been using the down time between livery reveals to stalk your social media profiles but here he was. It wasn’t his fault trying to figure you out was way more interesting than anything the FIA and this stupidly awkward night had to offer.

He had been scrolling his FYP earlier in the day while McLaren comms staff had bustled around the Hilton conference room, his attention pulled away from the boring media briefing Zak and Andrea were trying to get him to care about, when you had popped up on his screen. It was an innocent video, one that he usually would have flipped right on by but something had his thumb pausing, hovering over the screen instead of swiping away.

You were in well lit hallway, lip syncing to that new Gracie Abrams song that was all over the place looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. Your smile was infectious as you held eye contact with the camera, arms thrown to your sides as you sang your heart out. It looked like you were about to go somewhere, a gray woolen overcoat tugged over your shoulders as a pink and white knit jumper peaked out from underneath.

It was only when Oscar had asked him how many times he was going to listen to that thirty seconds of song that Lando realized he’d been watching your video for an embarrassing length of time. Turning crimson, Lando had quickly favorited the video to come back to later and closed out the app.

He’d been caught up in preparations for this stupid F1 75 event for the rest of the evening but the moment he’d had a break, he was back stalking your socials. Your Instagram was conveniently linked to your TikTok account so it wasn't hard and the moment Lando started scrolling, he was hooked.

yourusername posted

909,102 likes liked by lando, yourbff, hannahstjohn, and others yourusername lots to catch up on... user0298 body is teeeeeea user1112 that gray dress tho! where is it from??? >>>yourusername @/aritzia!!! lando 🔥🔥🔥 (liked by author) >>>user0200 landooooo what are you doing here??? >>>user555 first in the likes too. he was QUICK

The Monegasque sun was blindingly bright, reflecting off the pristine white of Lando’s apartment balcony. He was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace, something that he’d miss when the season started up in two weeks. Right now though, he had been back from testing in Bahrain for a few days and was leaving for Australia sometime next week. This was the last weekend of peace and quiet he’d have until summer break.

An insistent buzz shatters the quiet calm that he’d cocooned himself in, his phone blinking to life. He glanced at the screen. Rich. His personal PR manager that he’d hired after his last messy breakup to help with his image.

“What is it, Rich?” Lando sighs.

“Lando, we need to talk about this weekend.” Rich’s voice was sharp, a glaring contrast to the relaxed atmosphere of Lando’s apartment.

“What about this weekend?” He asks, a knot forming in his stomach. Lando knew where this was going.

“Allegra.” Rich says, his voice bright with faux enthusiasm. “She’s coming to Monaco this weekend. We need some content before the start of the season. Really amp up the exposure before you get too busy.”

Allegra. Or Allie as she insisted Lando call her in private, but always Allegra in public. She was also managed by Rich, who was the one that had introduced them last year with the sole purpose of having them hit it off and start dating. When that hadn’t materialized, Rich had started meddling, sending her to events that he knew Lando would be at, having her come to Monaco and follow him around like a lost puppy.

It had worked though. The rumors started swirling and before he knew it, Lando and Allie were rumored to be dating. He had never confirmed the relationship, always insisting that he was single and Allie had followed suit, coyly grinning in interviews when the model had been asked specifically about him. He hadn’t fought it though. Maybe he was a coward or maybe he just liked the attention, but it had certainly brought a certain degree of recognition to his name in the months that he had been linked to her. He never confirmed it but he never denied it either.

And then he had met you.

“No.” Lando says flatly, cutting him off. “Nope. I’m done with this.”

“Done?” On the other end of the line, Rich sputters. “What do you mean, ‘done’? Think of your brand, your image! You have a merch drop happening in a few weeks and a rebrand with Quadrant! You need this attention.”

“I don’t need her to bring me attention.” Lando scoffs. “I’m tired of playing this game. I’m tired of Allie. She’s…she’s weird, Rich. And this whole thing is a joke. I know you’ve seen the gossip pages laughing at me. Laughing at her. I’ve had enough.”

“Lando.” Rich tuts, his tone taking on that of someone scolding a small child. The heat rises in Lando’s cheeks as he stands, pacing the balcony. “She’s a social media powerhouse. She brings in millions of impressions. People love talking about her, speculating about if she’s with you or not. This is a business.”

“Business?” Lando laughs, cold and bitter. “This is a manufactured relationship, Rich. It’s fake and it’s draining. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her anywhere near me anymore. Either you tell her I’m done or I will, you choose.”

“You’re being irrational. This is a PR strategy and it’s working! We’re getting the numbers, the attention! It’s everything you hired me to do!”

Lando drags his hand over his face, scrubbing at the migraine that he feels forming behind his eyes. “I don’t care about the numbers.” He says tightly, his mind flickering to you and the way you’ve been a bit distant this week. “I care about my sanity. I care about being genuine and this? This thing with her? That is the opposite of genuine.”

“You’re throwing away a huge opportunity.” Rich warns, frustration sneaking into his voice. “This is so unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional?” Lando shouts, his anger getting the better of him. “You’re the one being unprofessional. You’re treating me like a product, not a person. The only thing you care about is your fucking paycheck, nothing else.” Lando’s chest heaves, his breath coming in short spurts.

“Lando, calm down -”

“No.” Lando spits. “No, I won’t calm down. I’m done with this. I’m done with you and I’m done with Allie. This whole charade is over.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, trying to control his rage. “You’re fired, Rich.”

He slams the phone down, not even giving Rich the opportunity to respond. The abrupt silence amplifies the sound of his pounding heart as he sits down again. He stares out at the glittering expanse of the Mediterranean, the anger still simmering within him. He feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. He had just burned a big bridge but it was a bridge he had never wanted to cross in the first place. He knew there would be consequences but for the first time in a long time, Lando felt like he was in control.

Now, if only he could get you to return his calls.

You thought you’d been prepared for the activity of the paddock. Hannah had spent enough time during the flight over telling you what to expect but the crowds in Shanghai were nothing short of overwhelming. The smell of engine oil and popcorn permeated the air, a strange mixture that tickled your nose in a slightly unpleasant way. You tried to calm the anxiety that was settling deep in your chest, the tight constricting feeling pulling at your ribs in a way that had you desperately wanting to go back to the hotel room.

You knew it was strange, someone with as much anxiety and issues with crowds being an influencer like you were but most of the time you had control over it. You had asked Hannah so many questions about what to expect but nothing could have prepared you for the way the crowds crushed in on you even in the paddock.

Liam had come to the track early to meet with his engineers before the practice and sprint qualifying. and Hannah had been left to your own devices. The crowds were one thing, you knew you’d get used to them eventually and that you just had to work your way through the panic but there was something else causing your shoulders to hitch up tightly towards your ears and your jaw tighten with every flash of orange you saw: Lando.

It had been a few months since he slid into your DMs and at first is had been fun. He was charming, texting you nearly all day with all sorts of questions and banter, FaceTiming you while you were curled up in bed in your Boston apartment, talking about the fast lives you both lived. It was intoxicating getting attention from someone like Lando. His attention felt like the sun, all warm and welcoming. You knew there was chemistry there but you lived in Boston and he split is time between London and Monaco. You had expected him to invite you out to see him soon or at least bring up meeting somewhere half way.

But then the pictures had surfaced online.

Lando walking around the busiest part of Monaco with his best friend Max, Max’s girlfriend Pietra and a blonde model named Allegra. It was so painfully clear he was with her from the shots of him driving her around in one of his many cars three weekends in a row.

You felt so stupid. Getting with a guy that was clearly comfortable being publicly seen on a double date was a hard no, you had more respect for yourself and Allegra to even touch that kind of drama. Of course, there was an endless debate on if they were even together or not, it didn’t take much to find the online gossip pages that spent a lot of time trying to figure out if they were an item. Lando had never publicly confirmed the relationship and neither had Allegra, both insisting they were just friend and Lando was single.

But the pictures were hard to deny.

So you had ghosted him.

You didn’t want to be drug into the drama that seemed to surround the model, not with how well your content was doing lately. You had a huge following in the states and were starting to get attention internationally. You knew the last thing your PR manager would want to see was stories about you plastered all over the gossip pages. You had worked too hard to cultivate a wholesome reputation to be drug into a love triangle controversy, even if it ended up being manufactured by the press. You walked a fine line between wanting to be talked about and wanting to avoid being laughed at.

So when Hannah, one of your best friends from the influencer world, had invited you to tag along with her to the Chinese Grand Prix in April, you had hesitated. No one knew about you and Lando talking, not even your best friends. Sure, Lando had followed you and commented on a few of your posts but everyone chalked that up to you being friends with Hannah and Lando’s reputation to hit on pretty girls whenever he was active on social media. It hadn’t gained a ton of attention so you were able to pretty much ignore it.

But you couldn’t turn down Hannah’s invitation without raising some sort of suspicion. China had been on your bucket list of places to visit since you were little and you had enough miles saved up this year to be able make the long flight in a lie-flat first class seat with to your group of friends. You really had no excuse, so in the end you had agreed.

But now that you were here, the possibility of running into Lando in the flesh after you had ghosted him hanging heavy over your head and the crowds pressing in, you were totally regretting your life choices.

“You okay?” Hannah’s voice breaks through your racing thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“What?” You stutter, trying to bring your focus back to where you were in the moment.

“Are you okay?” Your friend asks softly, eyeing you like she knows something is going on but can’t figure out what. “You just seem a little…tense.”

You reach up to pull your hair off your neck, suddenly feeling like your skin is just a little too tight for the rest of your body. “I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed. This place is a lot.”

Hannah’s eyes soften. She’s well aware of your anxiety and how you sometimes struggle with crowds. While she doesn’t struggle with the same issues, if there’s one thing you appreciate about your friend its that she has an uncanny ability to read your moods and empathize with you when it matters most.

“I know, but you get used to it quick. Liam has some engineering meetings before practice so he’s busy for another hour or so. Do you want to go hang out in hospitality? Get cooled down before practice?”

You adjust your sunglasses on your nose before nodding, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m sorry, you don’t have to stick around with me all day, I know you want to be with Liam.”

Hannah waves a hand, dismissing your concern with one movement, “Stop that. That man gets so locked in before he gets into the car, he probably forgets I exist. I told him I’d be in the garage for practice but we’re free until then. Come on, we can get some content for TikTok. Didn’t you say you wanted to do a Chinese travel vlog?”

Suddenly, a blur of green and yellow catches your attention from on your left. A scooter, driven by a distracted man in a green racing suit, was flying down the sidewalk at breakneck speed headed straight for you. He was going so fast you didn’t have enough time to react once you registered what was about to happen.

You shut your eyes, bracing for impact, as a startled gasp tumbles off your lips. But the impact doesn’t come when you expect it as a strong set of hands pulls you out of the path of the scooter. The man on the scooter continues on, zipping down the sidewalk without so much as an apology as you stumble back, straight into the arms of the person that just saved you from being paddock road kill. The body is warm, muscled and the set of hands go straight to your hips, steadying you when you fight to maintain your balance.

“Oh my god!” Hannah shrieks as you struggle out of the person’s embrace, spinning around to see who you had just collapsed into.

“Jesus Christ, thank…” The words die in the back of your throat when you see the papaya and black race suit of your savior.

“You.” The British accent that you’d spent the last few weeks trying to forget sends shivers down your spine.

Shit.

“Oh. Hi, Lando.” You say sheepishly, lifting your sunglasses off your face so you can make eye contact with the driver.

“Oh hi Lando?” Hannah sputters, clearly confused. “Do you two know each other?”

“No.” You reply at the same time Lando says “Yes.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it would be bad for your reputation if you punched him. Hannah’s eyes bounce back and forth between you and Lando, who is standing there looking just as confused as she is. If you’re not mistaken, there’s also a touch of hurt that flickers in his eyes as he looks you up and down.

“Are you okay?” Lando asks, breaking the tension.

Your eyes dip to your waist, where Lando’s hand still rests heavily on your hip. When he notices he’s still holding you, he pulls his arm back quickly, running it through his curls trying to look casual while his brows dip together, confusion still clearly settled on his handsome features.

“Um. Yeah, I am. Thank you, I was almost roadkill.” You laugh, but it comes out too shaky to be taken seriously.

Hannah crosses her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed as she tries to figure out the weird tension that has settled over the two of you.

“So, ‘yes' you two know each other but ‘no’ you don’t?” Hannah raises an eyebrow, clearly not willing to let this go.

You shoot Lando a look that could curdle milk. “It’s…complicated.” You mumble, avoiding Hannah’s gaze.

“Complicated how?” Hanna presses, her curiosity piqued.

Lando shits his weight, a nervous energy radiating off of him. “We were talking for a bit.”

“Talking? Like, flirting talking?” Hannah turns to you and you swear you see a bit of hurt in her eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Guilt washes over you. You hadn’t really meant not to tell your friend, it just had never come up. “It was nothing.” You say quickly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Lando wince and your heart catches. “Just some DMs, it fizzled out after a while.”

“Fizzled out?” Lando scoffs, his frown deepening. “You ghosted me.”

“I’m sure you had your hands full with that other blonde to miss me that much, Lan.” You bite back, voice sharp.

Lando’s brows furrow, “Other bl…" He pauses, the dots seemingly connecting in hsi mind suddenly. "You mean Allie? What does she have to do with you and me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You say with a shrug. “You looked pretty busy with her in Monaco before the season started. I just assumed you didn’t have time for me.” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as possible but you can’t keep the anger from slipping into your voice. The fact that he has a cute little nickname for her burrows under your skin more than it should.

Deep down you know you had zero claim over him, so being this angry feels over the top. You know you’re overreacting. You had never even met Lando in person before this moment, so why was the jealousy burning through your bloodstream so intense?

Hannah’s eyes dart between you and Lando, her expression a mix of confusion something else you couldn’t place. “Okay, so this is a bit more intense than I expected.” She raises her hands in surrender. “You know what? I think I’m going to go check on Liam. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

She gives you a knowing look, a look that says ‘I’ll let you sort this out but I expect a full rundown of what the fuck just happened here later tonight.’.

“Maybe you two should talk, alone. Just try not to kill each other.”

With that, Hannah turns on her heel and disappears towards the Red Bull garages, leaving you and Lando standing awkwardly in the middle of the bustling paddock. The noise of the crowd presses in on you, amping up your already high anxiety and filling the silence that stretches between you.

Lando looks at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. He digs his hands deep into his pockets, unsure of where to go from here. The absolute last person he’d expected to see here today was you. Finding out you were mad at him just when he had made the decision that you wanted nothing to do with him and he needed to move on was a little overwhelming. He’d been hurt when you’d stopped returning his messages and answering his calls. Frustrated that you hadn’t given him an answer when he asked you what was wrong. And then the season had started and he couldn't handle it all. It still ate at him at night, the fact that he had allowed you to slip out of his fingers, especially since firing Rich and ending things with Allie.

So maybe this was the universe giving him a second chance.

“So,” He starts, voice low. “We’re just going to pretend like nothing happened?”

You throw your arms out to your side, exasperated sigh falling from your lips. “What was I supposed to think, Lando? I open up my Instagram one morning to see a shit ton of pap photos of you and her, the day after you and I spent almost five hours on FaceTime together!”

Lando cards his fingers through his curls, “I can explain that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you can.”

Deep in Lando’s pocket, his phone chimes. Reluctantly he pulls it out, checking the new text message from Sophie, his press officer. “Fuck. I’ve got to go get in the car.” He sighs, scrubbing his large hand over his face. “Listen, can you please give me a chance to explain?”

You cross your arms over your chest, mirroring Hannah’s stance from just minutes before. Your first instinct is to tell him to fuck all the way off, you’ve been too careful with your reputation to be drug into any sort of drama that that girl seems to bring. Lando gives you a look though, his green blue eyes pleading with you and you’re all but powerless against it.

“Come on.” He coaxes, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your bare arm. You ignore the riot of goosebumps he leaves in his wake. “You’re going to look at me and tell me you didn’t come all the way to China, to a place where you knew I would absolutely be, not hoping to at least run into me?”

“Bold of you to assume that you even cross my mind anymore, Norris.” You snip back but your words hold no bite to them and you both know it.

Now it’s Lando’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, baby.” Your traitorous heart stammers but you mange an indignant look as a reaction to the nickname. “I’m done with race stuff around dinner time, let me take you out somewhere nice and we can talk. Please?”

Again with the puppy eyes. This was going to be a problem.

“Fine.” You huff after a moment. “But don’t make me regret this, Lan.”

The biggest smile you’ve ever seen crosses Lando’s face at your agreement. He reaches out, catching your waist in his hands, pulling you in for a hug. Neither of you notice the cameras pointed in your direction.

“You won’t. I promise.” He murmurs in your ear before dropping a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You don’t wipe if off.

Grinning like a fool, Lando spins on his heel before bustling off towards the McLaren garages. He’s about 30 feet away when his head swivels back, his gaze instantly finding yours. He grins again, liking that you’d been watching him go.

yourusername posted

602,928 likes liked by lando, hannahstjohn, redbullracing, and others yourusername Boston >>> Shanghai LETS GO hannahstjohn pretty girl! so glad you made the trip with meeeee user0029 my fave influencer and my fave sport?! YES PLEASE user928 i wish these brands would stop inviting random influencers to races and get some REAL FANS there instead >>>user9299 she's there with hannah, liam's girlfriend. just say you're jealous next time. user0299 ok but i need to know...is she a mclaren girlie or red bull??? >>>user454 she gives me ferrari vibes user223 lando in the likes again, huhhhhhh

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