#Error handling in drivers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanteguccir · 3 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNOT AN UBER DRIVER * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where a very much drunk Y/N, glasses-less, and leaving a party, hops into what she thinks is her Uber, only to be greeted by Matt, a cute guy who is definitely not her Uber driver.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　being drunk, feeling sick.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The bass thumped through the pavement, the kind of deep, rolling sound that reverberated in her bones and made the ground feel unsteady beneath her feet.

Or maybe that was just the tequila. Hard to tell.

Either way, the party was starting to blur together, flashes of neon lights, the distant echo of laughter, the lingering scent of something vaguely sweet and smoky in the air.

Y/N blinked, trying to focus on her phone screen. The tiny glowing numbers refused to sit still, swimming in and out of focus as she squinted at them.

Where the hell were her glasses?

Right. In her purse. Or maybe on someone’s table. Or maybe gone forever. It didn’t really matter at this point. What mattered was that her Uber was here.

Probably.

The app had just pinged her, and that was her cue to leave.

With the kind of confidence only a drunk girl could have, she swiped a hand through her hair, straightened her posture like that would somehow make her seem more composed, and made her way toward the line of parked cars outside the mansion. The LA air was cooler out here, crisp against her flushed skin.

She hummed to herself, stumbling slightly as she approached the row of black and silver vehicles. Was it the black Honda? Or the black SUV? Or-

Whatever, doesn’t matter.

Uber drivers always had those tiny stickers on the window, right? Not that she could see them without her glasses.

So, with absolutely no hesitation, Y/N reached for the handle of a random car and slid into the passenger seat like she did this every day. The leather was warm from sitting under the LA heat, the faint scent of something salty and familiar lingering in the air.

She barely had time to register the fact that the driver hadn’t greeted her before she clicked her seatbelt into place and sighed.

"Hey, Uber driver who I don’t know the name of because I don’t have my glasses with me." She said, head lolling slightly to the side as she glanced toward the figure beside her.

Matt Sturniolo was staring at her like he had just witnessed a crime.

His fingers hovered frozen over the fast-food bag in his lap, his wide blue eyes reflecting pure, unfiltered what the actual fuck energy. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just sat there, his grip tightening ever so slightly around a lone onion ring.

Y/N, oblivious to the sheer level of distress she had just caused, frowned at him. Weirdly quiet guy.

Then, without missing a beat, Matt cleared his throat, glanced at his onion ring, and started talking.

"Hey... uh. Do you want an onion ring?"

Y/N blinked at him. Processing.

Then, after too many seconds, she shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

And just like that, she took the onion ring from his fingers - that was already bitten -, popped it into her mouth, and chewed.

The onion ring was good. Like, really good. Crispy, salty, the kind of satisfying crunch that felt almost poetic in the moment. Or maybe that was just her messy taste buds. Either way, Y/N sat there, chewing thoughtfully, completely unfazed by the fact that the guy next to her - her supposed Uber driver - had yet to say much beyond offering her fast food.

She swallowed, then licked a bit of salt off her lip before shifting in her seat. It was only then that she noticed something was... off.

They weren’t moving.

The car was still in park, engine humming softly, headlights illuminating the empty stretch of road ahead.

She furrowed her brows, glancing at him.

"Hey, I’m all good to go!" She announced, clapping her hands together like this was some kind of Uber check-in process. "You can start driving now."

Matt, still mildly stunned and feeling lost, blinked at her. Then, after a pause, he cleared his throat, preparing himself to make her leave his KIA.

"Miss, I'm not-" Matt stopped himself, jaw tensing.

He could think she was insane and reckless all he wanted, but he sure wasn’t about to let a drunk girl figure out how to get home alone. Not in this city. Not when she could barely stand straight without swaying like a damn cartoon character.

He let out a slow exhale, cleaning his dirty fingers on the napkin laying above the car console.

"You know what? What’s the address?"

Oh. Right. Addresses.

Y/N blinked at him, then at her phone, the glowing letters on the screen looking like they were written in an ancient, forbidden language that her brain had no capacity to decipher right now. She squinted hard, her mouth moving in a silent test run before she finally read them aloud, not even realizing that the Uber app would’ve already handled this for her. If he was her Uber driver at all.

Matt just nodded, turning to his GPS and tapping in the location like this was just another casual night.

But just as he finished, a text notification popped up on the screen.

Nick: We’re leaving in 10. U there?

Matt glanced at it for half a second.

And then?

He ignored it.

His fingers hovered over the screen, but instead of bothering to answer, he just drove his attention to the road, shifted gears, and put his car in motion.

The engine hummed smoothly, the low rumble cutting through the quiet night as the car rolled onto the road, the distant echoes of the party fading into the background.

Y/N exhaled dramatically, sinking further into the passenger seat, trying to focus on the soft hum of the car rather than the growing ache in her head.

After a beat, she glanced over at Matt - really looked at him for the first time. His dark shirt, the way his fingers decorated with silver rings drummed lightly on the steering wheel, the faint glow of streetlights casting sharp angles across his bearded face making his features pop in the kind of way that made her want to run a hand through her hair and pretend she wasn’t so clearly out of it.

He was cute. Like, annoyingly cute.

"Are all Ubers that work past midnight this pretty?" She asked, her words dripping with playful sincerity.

Matt’s eyes widened, his grip on the wheel tightening just a little as his mouth opened, and then, realizing he wasn’t choking on anything, he did exactly that, choked on nothing. For a split second, he glanced at her, looking like a deer caught in headlights before snapping his gaze back to the road.

"What?" He asked, his voice going a little higher than usual, almost like a weird, adorable squeak.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, tilting her head like she was explaining the weather.

"I mean, it’s a fair question, right? I feel like this must be an exclusive, midnight-only service you’ve got going here."

Matt’s eyes flicked over to her again, his face a mixture of confusion, shock, and something a lot like embarrassment. He cleared his throat as if it would somehow help him regain some composure, but it only made the situation more awkward, and infinitely more endearing.

"... I... I’m not-" He atarted, though his voice was barely a whisper as he struggled to keep his attention on the road.

"Wait." She interrupted him abruptly, turning fully toward him now, gasping softly. "Are you one of those cool Uber drivers?"

Matt let out a breathy, shocked laugh through his nose, shaking his head with the sudden change of humor.

"What- what do you mean ‘cool Uber driver’?"

"You know." She gestured vaguely. "The ones who let me blast my music and give me free snacks."

Matt hummed, tilting his head in mock consideration.

"I don’t know. What kind of music are we talking?"

Y/N gasped, clutching her chest.

"As if that’s even a question. The best kind, duh."

Matt raised a brow. For him, the best kind was Mac Miller.

"Which is...?"

She grinned, already reaching for his aux cord like it was her car.

"I could tell you, but I’d rather show you."

Matt didn’t stop her. He just exhaled another amused breath through his nose, watching through the corner of his eye as she scrolled furiously through her playlists, her brows furrowing in deep concentration. Then, with a triumphant little hum, she hit play.

The car instantly filled with the unmistakable opening notes of Tik Tok by Kesha.

Matt’s grip on the steering wheel twitched. Y/N, completely unbothered, turned to him with the most serious expression possible.

"This is non-negotiable. You must sing."

Matt scoffed.

"I must?"

"It’s a legally binding agreement the second Kesha starts playing." She said matter-of-factly.

Matt shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

"I don’t think that’s how the law works."

"You think the law has power over Kesha?" She gasped. "Over me?"

Matt laughed. A real laugh this time. Low and warm and easy.

Nick would've loved her.

Y/N, taking this as a win, nodded firmly before dramatically belting out the lyrics, all while drumming her hands against her thighs like this was a full-on concert.

"BEFORE I LEAVE BRUSH MY TEETH WITH A BOTTLE OF JACK-"

Matt winced.

"Jesus Christ."

"- CAUSE WHEN I LEAVE FOR THE NIGHT, I AIN'T COMING BACK!"

Matt, to his credit, didn’t crash the car. He just huffed out another laugh, shaking his head as he reached into the Burger King bag and held out another onion ring.

"Here. Please, for the love of God, chew."

Y/N gasped again, snatching the onion ring dramatically.

"Are you trying to silence me?"

"A little bit."

She narrowed her eyes, biting into it slowly, all while maintaining intense eye contact.

"You fear my talent."

Matt let out a small chuckle, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

"I fear for my eardrums."

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, taking another bite of the onion ring. She chewed happily for a few seconds, but then, suddenly, her jaw slowed.

A weird, unsettling feeling rolled through her stomach like a warning siren, and before she could process it, nausea hit her like a wave. Everything inside her flipped, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening, her whole body stilling.

Matt noticed instantly.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, his voice dipping into something soft, immediately catching onto her discomfort.

His reaction was so quick that before she could even think, he had already taken one hand off the wheel, reaching toward her. His fingers brushed against hers, gently but firmly taking the half-eaten onion ring from her grasp, tossing it effortlessly back into the bag.

And then, without a moment's hesitation, he paused the song and rolled down her window.

The cool night air rushed inside, hitting her face in a gentle, relieving gust, playing with the strands of her hair and making them dance in the wind, cooling down her warm face.

Matt's hand went back to the wheel, but his eyes flicked toward her every couple of seconds.

"You good? Want me to pull over?"

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air like it was her lifeline. Her fingers gripped the side of the seat, her head tilting slightly toward the breeze, trying to ground herself.

"Ugh, no, no, I'm fine." She muttered, still a little off-balance. "It just hit me weird. I think my stomach was like, 'Oh, cool, fried food after a night of drinking? Let's ruin this bitch'."

Matt huffed a small laugh.

"Yeah, well, if your stomach starts a full-on rebellion, let me know before it declares war all over my car."

"Don't be mean about it, Uber driver."

Y/N’s voice came out small and pouty, her bottom lip jutting out dramatically as she turned toward him, blinking slowly to ward off the dizziness that followed the nausea.

Matt glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying so hard not to laugh at the ridiculous, genuinely heartbroken expression on her face.

"I wasn’t being mean-"

"Yes, you were."

"I was just-"

"So mean."

Her voice wobbled just slightly, and suddenly Matt’s stomach dropped.

Oh, shit.

She was about to cry.

Matt had never dealt with a drunk, emotional person before, and definitely not a stranger one. His brain scrambled for literally anything to do, anything at all, before full-on tears started spilling down her cheeks.

"Hey, no. Don't cry, sweetheart."

The second the pet name left his lips, Y/N’s entire demeanor shifted.

Her tears stopped, and her face softened, lips slightly parted, like she had just witnessed a miracle.

"Sweetheart?"

Matt froze.

Oh, fuck.

Matt glanced around, suddenly feeling too warm, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel like it was his lifeline. His heart was pounding, and she was still staring at him, blinking up at him like he had just given her the most precious gift in the world.

And he needed to fix this immediately.

Without another word, he reached for the smart screen, his fingers quickly tapping it to press play on the song he had paused minutes before.

The second the sound of Kesha's voice blasted through the car again, Y/N’s mood did a complete 180°. Her face lit up, eyes widening as if she had just been brought back to life.

"Oh, shit- KESHA!"

And just like that, everything was gone.

The near-tears were gone, the heartbreak about his comment had vanished, and she was singing again, full volume, completely unapologetic, her hands moving wildly as she danced in her seat.

Matt let out a slow breath, his heart still beating too fast.

Between a 2000's song here and drunk comments there about how she ended up taking way too many jello shots with a dude named Brad who refused to say what he actually did for life or how she ended up getting locked in a bathroom because some drunk couple mistook the stall for a VIP lounge, the car slowed, turning onto a familiar street.

Matt glanced at his GPS, then out the window, before finally shifting into park. He reached for the smart screen, lowering the volume to a minimum before looking at her, voice soft.

"Alright, this is you."

Y/N blinked, then turned her head to look outside.

And- oh.

It was her place.

Huh.

For a second, she just... stared at it. The streetlights, the familiar shape of her front door, the welcome mat that she’d impulsively bought months ago because it said "Hot Girls Live Here".

She chewed on her lip, hesitating for half a second before sighing dramatically.

"Welp. Bye bye, mister Uber driver."

Matt hummed, nodding, but didn’t say anything. So she grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.

The second she swung it open and stepped out, however, the ground tilted.

Okay, not literally, but it sure as hell felt like it. Her legs wobbled, the world spinning ever so slightly, and before she could even blink, a warm hand wrapped around her arm, steadying her.

"Whoa, hey."

Y/N blinked down at him, her vision slightly wobbly, her brain playing catch-up.

Matt was still in his seat, halfway over the center console, one arm stretched out to keep her from completely face-planting onto the pavement. His fingers curled securely around her forearm, firm but careful, like she was a newborn deer that had just taken its first, very questionable, steps.

"Damn, got two left feet there, huh?" He muttered, lips twitching. "You good?"

Y/N laughed way too hard than any sober person would. Like, actual tears in her eyes hard. And then, as if to prove just how not good she was, she swayed again before flopping back onto the seat with a little bounce.

Matt raised a brow, biting back his own chuckle. It wasn’t even a good joke.

Still giggling, Y/N reached out blindly, pressing a palm to his arm.

"You’re so funny."

However, her face falls shortly after, her brows knitting together, laced with a curious gaze as she slides her fingers around his skin in search of the swallows inked onto his whole arm.

Matt tensed slightly, watching her fingertips skate across the ink on his forearm, brushing over lines and shading with gentle curiosity.

"Having fun there?" He wet his lips.

"Yeah." She nodded enthusiastically - too enthusiastically, because a second later, she froze as dizziness smacked into her like a truck for the second time.

Matt swore internally. His skin was heating way too much for a guy who had a fully intoxicated girl petting his arm like it was a damn artifact.

Okay. Time to move.

"Alright!" His voice came out way louder than he intended, and he immediately regretted it. He cleared his throat again, slowly untangling his arm from her grasp. "Stay right there."

And before she could even attempt a protest, he was already moving.

Y/N blinked as she watched him step out, rounding the front of the car in a few easy strides. His shirt riding up slightly, his keys jingling from his belt loop, his hair shifting slightly with the breeze.

And then, suddenly, he was right in front of her.

Without hesitation, he reached for her purse on the ground, slinging it over his own shoulder, and held out a hand.

"C’mon."

Y/N just stared at him. Then at his hand. Then at his very serious expression. Her brain took a moment before her arm finally moved.

The moment Matt’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand, his skin was all she could feel.

His palm was warm, the kind of warmth that felt steadying. But it wasn’t just that. It was smooth, too, except for the slightly rougher patches right at the base of his fingers - the callouses from years of drumming.

Her drunken brain latched onto the detail immediately.

"Oh, wow." She blurted out, squeezing his hand. "Your hands are so soft. Like silk."

Matt blinked, looking at their joined hands for a second before glancing back up at her, his lips twitching.

"First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered."

Y/N hummed dramatically, still holding onto him.

"You should be. It’s a big deal."

Matt let out a small chuckle before giving her fingers a quick, firm squeeze back.

With a giggle, Y/N finally let herself be pulled up, swaying a little too much in the process, but before she could even stumble, Matt moved, gently grabbing her arm, pulling it over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

And wow.

Wow.

He was warm. And solid. And smelled like onion rings and rich cologne and some kind of softness that made her stomach flip in ways she refused to unpack right now.

"Watch your feet."

　　　　　��﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt had no idea what time it was when they finally reached her porch, but it was definitely late. The kind of late that made the streetlights buzz a little louder, the air feel a little colder, and his patience with this drunk, ridiculous girl stretch dangerously thin.

Not that he actually minded.

If anything, it was insanely cute how she was just sitting there now, slumped in the wooden chair like some kind of defeated heroine. Her arms were dangling off the armrests, legs stretched out in front of her, head tilted back dramatically, and mascara forming black trails below her eyes.

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I said stay still."

Y/N let out a deep, theatrical sigh, still moving her legs like a swing.

"I am still."

Matt exhaled through his nose.

"No, you’re not. You’re-" He gestured vaguely toward her. "You'll fall from there."

She waved a limp hand in his direction.

"Whatever."

Matt groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He had the idea that trying to argue with a drunk person was a lost cause, so instead of wasting his breath, he turned to the front door.

And then realized the next problem.

She wasn’t going to open it.

Because she was currently treating that wooden chair like it was a swing and she was a kid after school time.

Matt turned back to her, eyebrows raised.

"You got your keys?"

Y/N, still dramatically draped over the chair, gave him a lazy thumbs-up.

"Yup."

Matt stared at her expectantly.

She didn’t move.

Matt sighed.

"Okay. Where?"

Y/N blinked up at him. Then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she pointed toward the black purse still dangling off his shoulder.

Matt stared at it, then back at her.

"Can I open it?"

Y/N, without even lifting her head, simply flicked her wrist in a dismissive gesture.

Matt huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

"That’s not an answer."

She made the motion again, this time more dramatic.

Matt rolled his eyes but obeyed, carefully pulling the purse to the front of him and unzipping it. He was quick in the way he searched, making sure not to look too closely at whatever chaos was inside.

Luckily, it didn’t take long.

After just a few seconds, his fingers closed around a set of keys, the keychain a glittery pink monstrosity.

Matt smirked.

Shaking his head, he straightened up and moved to the front door, unlocking it with ease before turning back toward her.

And then came the next problem.

Because the second he reached out to help her stand, he realized just how much of a mess this was about to be.

Y/N, for all her earlier confidence, was absolutely useless on her feet now.

Like, actually useless.

The moment he pulled her up, she practically folded against him, her entire body weight leaning into his chest like she had no bones whatsoever.

"Jesus, dude." Matt barely had time to adjust, his arms scrambling to keep her upright. "You gotta help me here."

Y/N, her cheek now fully pressed against his shoulder, let out a content sigh.

"Mmm, comfy."

Matt let out a silent scream into the night.

This was impossible.

He couldn’t just drag her inside like some kind of caveman, and carrying her? Not happening. He wasn't the weakest, sure, but she was a whole human person.

So, instead, he opted for shuffling.

Painfully.

Slowly.

Awkwardly.

It was a process, but eventually, after what felt like an entire century, he managed to get her through the front door.

And the moment they stepped inside, he was hit with her world.

From the soft, warm lighting to the overflowing bookshelf in the corner to the cozy, mismatched cushions draped over the couch to the little Polaroid pictures stuck to the fridge.

It was lived-in, personal, comforting.

Matt blinked, taking it in for half a second before remembering the deadweight in his arms.

With a final exhale, he maneuvered them toward the big couch, practically collapsing with her as he eased her down, making sure she didn’t just flop like a ragdoll.

Once she was settled, he knelt beside her, hesitating before brushing some stray hair from her eyes.

"You good?"

Y/N, blinking sleepily up at him, nodded.

"Mhm."

Matt sighed, patting her knee.

"You should lay down."

Y/N huffed, but obliged, shifting so she could stretch out across the cushions.

Matt watched her for a second, waiting.

"You comfortable?"

Y/N, eyes half-lidded, gave him a slow, lazy grin.

"I would be more comfortable if you cuddled me, blue eyes."

Matt froze.

Yeah, okay. He should definitely go.

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The unforgiving brightness of the sun pierced through Y/N’s closed eyelids, an intrusive, blaring light that made her face scrunch in discomfort.

Weird.

Her room had blackout curtains, ones she had spent way too much money on to ensure that early mornings wouldn’t include the added torture of daylight exposure.

Her brows knit together, confusion settling in before she even opened her eyes.

And then, slowly, she did.

Only to be met with the wrong ceiling.

Y/N blinked, her brain sluggishly catching up to the fact that this was not her bedroom.

Then, she registered other things; her body feeling heavy under too many layers of clothes, the sticky sensation of dried makeup clinging to her skin, and, worst of all, the absolute tragedy happening inside her mouth.

She groaned, twisting her face in pure disgust. It tasted like something had died on her tongue, and she vaguely remembered drinking... tequila? And maybe some kind of mystery cocktail that some random stranger shoved at her, saying it was a "game changer".

A game changer in what? Making her suffer?

Y/N sat up, immediately regretting it as a sharp, pounding pain erupted behind her eyes. Jesus Christ.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hands pressing against her temples in an attempt to soothe the pain, but nothing helped. It was the kind of deep, bone-vibrating headache that made every movement feel like an earthquake inside her skull.

After a minute - or maybe five - she finally forced herself to function.

She opened her eyes again, and this time, she really looked around.

Oh.

She was in her living room.

The TV. The coffee table. The faint scent of her vanilla-scented candle that had long since burned out.

Right.

Her mind buzzed, trying to connect the blurry pieces of last night.

The party. The drinks. The decision to go home.

And then... the Uber driver.

Y/N frowned, blinking slowly.

Her eyes drifted downward, and that’s when she noticed the glass of water and the bottle of painkillers sitting neatly on the table.

Her brows lifted in surprise.

Wow.

So, not only did the Uber driver make sure she got home safely, but he also took care of her after the fact?

Because she knows her drunk version, and she couldn't even sit straight.

That was... suspiciously thoughtful.

Y/N shrugged to herself, grabbing the glass and the medicine without question, tossing the pill against her tongue and gulping down the water like her life depended on it. And, honestly? It kind of did. The cool liquid washed away the awful taste in her mouth, making her sigh in relief.

And then-

BRRRRRRING.

Y/N flinched, eyes snapping toward the sudden noise.

Her phone.

Where the hell was it?

She groaned, rummaging around the blanket that was still wrapped around her before realizing. Her purse.

She reached over, dragging it toward herself, and as soon as she dug inside, her fingers wrapped around her phone.

She unlocked it immediately, her eyebrows furrowing as she scanned the recent notifications.

And that’s when she saw it.

A string of messages from her Uber app.

Her actual Uber driver.

UBER: Your driver has arrived.

UBER: Your driver is waiting.

UBER: Your driver is still waiting.

UBER: Your driver will be leaving soon.

UBER: Your driver has canceled your ride.

Oh.

Her brain stuttered, slowly putting the pieces together.

So... she didn’t get into her Uber last night.

She left the poor guy stranded outside the party, probably cursing her existence, while she happily hopped into some random car.

Shit.

Y/N blinked down at her screen, processing the absolute chaos of her life choices when something caught her eye.

A small, folded note - clearly from her very much old notebook above her TV table - sitting neatly beside her purse, right below her hands.

Her brows lifted again.

She reached for it, flipping it open while glancing back at her phone, her brain still half-focused on her Uber driver’s angry messages.

And then, as she read the words, her heart did a weird little thing in her chest.

"Call me whenever you need a cool Uber driver again. Or, y’know, if you just wanna talk."

- Matt

Y/N stared at the note.

Then back at her phone.

Then back at the note.

And finally, it clicked.

She hadn’t just gotten into a random car last night.

She had gotten into a random guy’s car.

A very cute, very cool random guy’s car.

And instead of kidnapping her or doing something worse, he drove her home, tucked her in, left her water and medicine, and even gave her his number?

Y/N stared at the note for a long second, brain short-circuiting.

Then, she let out a laugh - soft and disbelieving - before grinning to herself.

Well.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

688 notes · View notes

chiasaaa · 3 months ago

Text

— jealousy, jealousy

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: as cool-headed as he may seem, even itoshi sae isn't immune to jealousy.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— itoshi sae is anything but a jealous man. how, you may ask? simply because he’s with a partner he feels secure with. your love has always proven that he will always be the only one for you. he knows that very well, and he doesn’t need any convincing.

normally, that’s the case.

but what if itoshi sae isn’t as invincible as he seems?

there’s not one person in the world who doesn’t have an insecurity they wish to bury deep within the darkness of their heart—the one thing they never want to be reminded of again. and much like every other human being that walks on earth, itoshi sae possesses one insecurity that will easily shatter the facade he created for himself. if it were up to him, he would rather encase it in a jar with a rock to sink it down the mariana trench. alas, he cannot sink what he cannot touch.

it was after a late night practice in the re al facility when it happened. you, his ever loving and supportive girlfriend, decided to pick him up after training. he would usually take the train home, or call up a taxi straight to you. however, one thing he noticed is that whenever you have the car with you, there is not one instance where he commutes home.

you always pick him up, no matter what.

he loves it—the feeling of reciprocity. sae loves that you freely do what you want to do for him the same way he does to you. but tonight, as he watches you from a distance engaging in a short conversation with leonardo luna, he wished you weren't as perfect as you already are. couldn't the traffic hold you up a bit longer just so he's already waiting out for you? maybe he shouldn't have taken his time in the shower to have you waiting outside instead. whatever it is that he could have done, sae surely regrets ever leaving time for you to bump into one of his teammates, even more so with leonardo.

"querido!" you spotted him as soon as he walked out the door, a twinkle in your eyes somehow relieving him from the thorns that wrapped around his heart. that's right. you were there for him, and you were happy to see him. not leonardo or anyone else for that matter.

"ahh, so you're sae's girlfriend." leonardo pieced two jigsaws together, snapping his fingers in realization. he then looked back at sae with those typical deceiving eyes of his. his smile was sickening, sae could hurl right then and there. there is no one else as despicable as leonardo luna himself.

it was because of him that he lost hope in becoming the world's number one striker in the world.

seeing him with his girlfriend, as if it were a reminder that he can easily take her away too, might as well be his last straw.

without a word, sae opens the door to the passenger seat and gently pushed you inside—much to your protest. he turns back to leonardo with a sigh. "we'll go ahead. see you tomorrow."

then he rounded the car to get to the driver's seat. as he was about to reach for the handle, leonardo calls out to him and had him pause. sae looks back up reluctantly, seemingly drained from the scenario at hand.

"you're really lucky, aren't you?" leonardo grinned. "fuck it up and just know i'm right around the corner."

it was clearly a threat, one that made his blood boil. grunting, he climbed in his seat and drove away before he loses control of himself. the car ride was quiet, with you still confused why he chose to drive tonight when he was clearly exhauted from practice, and him still trying to process how he's currently feeling.

it isn't like him to feel hostile towards other men who linger around you. if anything, he enjoys it more with the way you happily slap the fact that you're his right at their faces. yet, with leonardo, he doesn't even want you to bat an eyelash at his direction. there's this uneasy feeling that maybe at some point, you won't hit him with the usual 'i love my boyfriend and he's the absolute best' speeches.

that maybe, you'll realize then and there that itoshi sae is nothing compared to leonardo luna.

that you deserve someone better—someone you can proudly call yours as you cheer for him when he scores the heroic goal of the game. someone whom you can dedicate your designs to—a better model for your brand.

god, he wants to hurl so bad just thinking about such gruesome what ifs. he wants to stop thinking about it already, yet every time his mind comes to a pause, the depths of his mind has already cooked up a new scenario to overthink once again.

why did you have to bump into leonardo himself? it could have been any other of their forwards, like kaiser! you get along pretty well with that damn blue rose and he never felt a hint of malice towards him! god, you might as well be best friends with the guy and sae was completely fine with it.

why the fuck did it have to be leonardo?

"sae,"

the sound of his name slipping past your lips had finally pulled him out of the poisonous den named his thoughts. he shakes his head a little, snapping out of his daze as his eyes cleared back on the road. then, the rest of his senses came back to life. the first thing he noticed?

your hand atop his as he guides the steering wheel.

for a moment, sae glanced at your direction and found your concerned expression directed his way. his heart churns at the sight, for him. why are you looking at him like that?

why do you have to be so loving?

he doesn't deserve you.

"pull over, querido." it wasn't a request, and he wasn't about to disobey you. the moment he saw the nearest gas station, he parked by the convenience store and let out a breath he had unknowingly been holding in.

you shifted, taking your seat belt off. without a word, you opened the door and got out.

god, did you finally realize it? you're about to leave and dump his ass right now. he doesn't even want to follow you out—fearing for the news that might hit him hard on the face if he does. he'd rather stay in the car and bask in the scent of your perfume a little longer. he will sure miss—

"come on," you opened his door, reaching a hand out with a gentle smile. "i'm hungry."

that's how you both ended up at the second floor of said convenience store, with you serving two cups of ramen and microwaved skewers. he watches you stiffly as you stuffed your mouth full with msg bomb, a little conflicted on how he should feel about the situation right about now. had he been reading too much into things?

when you noticed that he wasn't eating, you snap his chopsticks in half for him and mixed his ramen. it was easier to reach him given that you're seated beside each other, thus he had no excuse not to eat the portion you just fished out.

he had no choice.

"i'm not hungry." he mutters.

"aha!" you pointed at him with an accusing finger, as if you finally caught him for something even he didn't know he was doing. "about time you start talking."

"what?"

"you think i didn't notice?"

"..." he looks at you, eyes pleading for you to stop whatever it is you're about to tell him. "please, amor. i know i—"

"i love you."

and so, he paused, stunned by your surprise attack. you took it as a chance to finally cup his cheeks with both hands, giving him not a bit of a chance to cower away from your declaration.

"and i have every intention of marrying you, so don't go around thinking that i'll leave you for someone else." you said it so confidently, as if you were a hundred percent sure that he was already doubting and overthinking in the midst of things. how you knew? he had no idea, but hearing your assurance had him melting right into your arms.

sae rested his chin on your shoulder, pulling you close as his arms wrapped around you in a loose embrace. then, he was able to release the biggest sigh of relief—washing out the little bit of insecurity left in his system. you had him scared for a moment, but damn was he a fool to think you'd ever leave him.

it was you for god's sake.

you would scourge through both heaven and hell if it meant being with him again. you'd gladly die a soldier of war if he were the one holding the sword. by the gods, you would drop even your biggest fashion show if he called for you at any given time. you, whose love is so big that it swallows him whole, and itoshi sae basks in the warmth you bring into his life.

"i'm yours." he whispered. "and i'll always be, right?"

you chuckle, leaning back a little to capture his lips with your own. "you have no choice, querido." he could feel your breath gently fan against his lips. "you're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

god knows how lucky he is to have you, and itoshi sae will spend more than one lifetime to prove that you were never wrong to choose him time and time again.

#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk fanfic #leonardo luna #angst #fluff

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jo-com · 11 months ago

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⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ➛ Eye Catching

F1 Drivers x Toto Wolf’s daughter

Summary: The only time you go to your dads and you already got the attention of the drivers.

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Various face claim, found the pics on pinterest

Note: grammatical errors and not proofread

��₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

───── ─ ೀ⋆｡🌷─ ───────

Your Notifications:

Charle_Leclerc just started following you

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…

Yn.wolf just posted!

Liked by urbff, landonorris, Carlossainz55 and 978,409 others

Yn.wolf thanks for following lil ol me💋

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Charles_Leclerc are you perhaps single?

Yn.wolf hmm idk🤔 ask dad

User1 WAHAHAHHAHA GURL GOT HUMBLED FAST

Lewishamilton @Charles_Leclerc let a real man handle this

User2 The fact that all of them wants her

User3 ATE AT THE PADDOCK TODAY

User4 waiting for @Lewishamilton shot

User5 honestly same

Yn.wolf same😐

Landonorris Hi👋🏻

Toto_wolf uhm no

Landonorris I ONLY SAID HI

Toto_wolf you shouldn’t even be here right now at my DAUGHTERS post

User6 oohhh emphasis on the daughter huh

Carlossainz55 just saw toto’s comment, i’ll sit this one out

Toto_wolf best idea you ever had

User8 this is getting way out of hand😭

Yn.wolf couldn’t agree more

User9 y/n’s vibe is just so 😫👌🏻

…

Liked by Oscarpiastri, Landonorris, Charle_leclerc and 4,589 others

Urbff wow 2 flowers in one day, you must be rich!

Tagged; @Yn.wolf

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Toto_wolf tell me who.

Urbff even idk sir😭

Carlossainz55 hope you love it señora💞

Yn.wolf i do in fact my kind sir, gracias💕

Maxverstappen1 did you like mine?

Yn.wolf they were also lovely!

Maxverstappen1 thanks, took me an hour to pick the right one

Landonorris On my way to send flowers

Charles_Leclerc (2)

Toto_wolf i am blocking the mail service as we speak

Lewishamilton I haven’t even sent mine yet!

Toto_wolf dear god🤦🏻‍♂️

Comments have been limited!

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Yn.wolf just posted a story!

Replies:

Carlossainz55 my world😍😚

Yn.wolf 🤭🤭

Carlossainz55 i just love how, they think that they have a shot with you

Yn.wolf UR WAY TOO CRUEL MY LOVE😭😭

Lewishamilton can i get another shot?

Maxverstappen1 my cats said hi

Charle_leclerc that book seems heavy, want me to hold your hands?

Charles_leclerc book*

Landonorris i love you

Landonorris damn i mean the view, you got me crazy for a moment there

…

Short but hope you like it though💞

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sinning-23 · 1 year ago

Text

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

_______________________________________

You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s your little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that you make the first move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

#x reader #reader is black #sukuna x reader #unkuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk au #jjk headcanons #uncle sukuna #jjk x reader

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katiascraft · 6 months ago

Text

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando x you #lando x reader #lando norris x you

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driverlando · 8 months ago

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🗞️ extremely confident and laid back max verstappen, trips down the stairs, chokes on his food and even walks into a wall all while trying to impress the daughter of some rich guy. Will he ever get lucky enough to leave a good impression on not only her but her father too

EXCLUSIVE: Max Verstappen’s Awkward Day Out—The F1 Champ’s Hilarious Mishaps While Trying to Impress a Billionaire’s Daughter!

Even the most confident of champions have their off days, and it seems Max Verstappen just experienced one for the books! The reigning Formula 1 World Champion, known for his cool demeanour and impeccable racing skills, found himself in a series of unfortunate events while trying to impress the daughter of a wealthy businessman. From tripping down the stairs to choking on his meal and even walking into a wall, it was a comedy of errors for the usually composed Dutchman.

The Comedy of Errors

It all started at an exclusive dinner event in Monaco, where Verstappen was invited to mingle with the elite, including the stunning daughter of a prominent billionaire. Known for his laid-back charm, Max seemed eager to make a good impression. However, things quickly went awry.

As he descended a grand staircase, all eyes were on Verstappen, but not for the reasons he might have hoped. In a moment of surprising clumsiness, the usually sure-footed racer missed a step and stumbled, nearly taking a tumble down the stairs. While he managed to recover his balance, the awkward moment did not go unnoticed.

The evening continued at the dinner table, where Max’s attempts to engage in conversation took another turn for the worse. While chatting animatedly, he suddenly choked on a piece of food, causing a brief moment of panic. Although he quickly regained his composure, it was another notch on the list of missteps for the night.

As if the universe was conspiring against him, the evening culminated in a rather embarrassing incident. While trying to impress the young woman with a charming story, Max became so engrossed in his narrative that he walked straight into a wall. The thud was enough to draw laughter from onlookers and leave the usually poised driver blushing.

The Billionaire’s Daughter and Her Reaction

Y/N Y/L/N, the daughter of a well-known business magnate, appeared more amused than impressed by Verstappen’s antics. Sources at the event described her as polite and gracious, yet clearly entertained by the series of mishaps. “She was trying not to laugh too hard, but you could tell she found it all quite funny,” an insider revealed. “She seemed more charmed by his attempts to impress her than anything else.”

Despite the awkwardness, it’s not all doom and gloom for Max. The billionaire father, known for his stern and businesslike demeanour, reportedly appreciated Verstappen’s perseverance and good humour in the face of embarrassment. “He admired Max’s ability to laugh at himself and keep trying,” said a close associate. “It’s not often you see someone so successful handle failure with such grace.”

Can Max Turn It Around?

The question on everyone’s lips now is whether Max Verstappen can turn this series of unfortunate events into a positive impression. Known for his unshakeable confidence on the track, Max’s endearing display of vulnerability and persistence may well win over both the daughter and her influential father.

Fans and pundits alike are speculating about the future of this intriguing dynamic. Will Verstappen’s charm and resilience be enough to redeem his clumsy debut? Or will this comedic display be remembered as a rare off-track fumble for the F1 star?

Fans Weigh In

Social media has exploded with reactions to Verstappen’s awkward evening. While some fans are mortified on his behalf, others are finding the whole situation hilariously relatable. “Max Verstappen walking into a wall? Even champions have their off days!” one fan tweeted. Another chimed in, “Honestly, it makes him more human. We’ve all been there!”

The Final Verdict

As the night ended, Max was seen leaving the event with a smile on his face, seemingly unbothered by the day’s blunders. His resilience in the face of embarrassment has only endeared him further to fans, who appreciate seeing the more human side of the usually invincible racer.

Whether he managed to leave a lasting impression on the billionaire’s daughter and her father remains to be seen. For now, one thing is certain: even Formula 1 champions aren’t immune to a little clumsiness and comedic misfortune.

Stay tuned for more updates on this unexpected and entertaining saga. Whether on the track or off, Max Verstappen continues to keep us all on our toes!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen smau #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #driverlando2k

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holysainz · 2 years ago

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silly season - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

warnings: innuendos

summary: fans get a glimpse into your relationship on a stream

You walk into Lando’s gaming room, a cup of hot chocolate topped with tiny marshmallows in hand. His back is to you, headphones clamped over his head, eyes focused on the screen. Lando is always in his element when he's streaming — it’s a joy to see. But today, you’ve been the one tasked with interrupting him. Not that you mind, of course.

“Got your hot chocolate, sweetheart,” you startle him, setting the cup down beside him on the desk. You look at the screen, recognizing the familiar game of F1 2023. “Who’s winning?”

“Verstappen. But it’s just a virtual race,” Lando chuckles without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Ah, so you admit you’re losing?” You tease, earning a playful glare. You laugh at his mock annoyance, then start to saunter out of the room.

Before you can make your exit, however, Lando grabs your wrist, pulling you back. “Wait, I need you.”

You spin around, your eyebrows raised in surprise. His words hang in the air, and for a moment, a suggestive smirk plays on your lips. “Really, Lando? On a live stream?”

His cheeks flush as he quickly shakes his head, his laughter joining yours. “Not like that, you minx! I need you to stay here and distract the competition with your terrible driving.”

“Ah, so that's how it is,” you retort, grinning at his playful sidestep. “I’m your secret weapon now, am I?”

With a chuckle, he grabs the spare controller, throwing it to you. “Only the best for Team Norris.”

“Well then, prepare to lose!”

What you don’t realize is that Lando’s stream is live, and all his fans are eagerly watching the banter unfold.

Lando chuckles, setting up the second controller. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

The race starts and immediately, it’s a comedy of errors. You’re not very good at the game to say the least and you crash into a wall within the first thirty seconds.

“Hmm, you do know the point is to avoid the walls, right?” Lando teases, his fingers moving deftly over the buttons of his controller.

You shoot him a feigned glare, and he laughs, his attention fixed on the screen as he smoothly overtakes one of the opposing cars. “Maybe you should stick to delivering hot chocolate, love.”

“No way,” you say stubbornly. “I’m going to beat you at your own game, Norris.”

“Ah, spoken like a true underdog!” He laughs, and the sound of it makes you grin, even as your car crashes into another wall.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the screen, Lando’s fans are loving every moment. Their favorite F1 driver showing his fun side, coupled with your charming wit, is an unbeatable combination.

The chat box fills with amused comments:

‘OMG, she’s hilarious!’ ‘Lando, you’re losing your touch!’ ‘Can we have her on every stream?’

Laughing and teasing each other, you keep trying to maneuver your car with minimal success. You playfully jab at Lando’s concentration, saying, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”

“I am good!” he protests, “Just not when you’re trying to distract me.”

“Oh, am I a distraction, Norris?” you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively. “Is it because I make your gear stick shift?” The playful innuendo makes Lando choke on his laugh.

“A very attractive distraction, yes,” he responds, and it’s your turn to blush.

The comments explode:

‘Did he just—‘ ‘They are too cute!’ ‘I can’t even.’

Eventually, Lando wins the game, but not without a few crashes of his own. As you watch the virtual champagne spraying over his character, you say, “Well, you won. But I’d like to see you do this in real life.”

Without missing a beat, Lando responds, “What, win a race or put up with you?”

“You better keep it clean on the track, Norris,” you retort, giving him a sly wink. “Because the way you’re driving here, you won’t be able to handle the curves!”

You gasp dramatically when he laughs at your comment. “Lando Norris! I’ll have you know I’m a delight to put up with.”

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Yes, you are. You’re my favorite distraction.”

With that, Lando ends the stream, laughing at the barrage of comments from his fans. You sit there with him, sharing in his laughter, completely oblivious to the fact that you were just part of an international live stream.

But you don’t care. All that matters to you in that moment is Lando’s laughter, the warmth of his arm around you, and the joy of sharing these simple, perfect moments with him. And if his fans loved it too, well, that was just an added bonus.

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itsprashimusic · 8 months ago

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Monaco and Monza

Summary - Charles, his favourite person (and their puppy) before, during and after the most important race wins of his life.

Pairings - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

Warnings - no use of y/n, google translate French and Italian, r can make decent conversation in French and Italian, possible inaccurate timelines, it is hinted that R is not from France or Monaco, honorable louis tomlinson appearance bc I am a former louie girlie, R has blue light glasses, cuss words. Happy reading🩵

W/C - 3.9k

A/N - i write all my female Rs with a desi in mind. Written in 2nd pov. I wrote R with a mindset and likes similar to mine, you are free to skip this fic if you don't like it.

| Navigation |

Before Monaco

An hour had passed on the three hour flight from Imola to Nice. Charles was asleep and Leo was curled up in your lap. Sitting in an oversized top and sweatpants, you were quite comfortable while doing some work. You work for a company that allows you to work remotely, which is a huge blessing considering your longtime boyfriend travels the world every other week.

The tiny pup yawned big as he woke up from his nap. You scratched him under the chin. Leo moved around in your lap, found another comfortable spot and went right back to sleep just as Charles also moved to find another comfortable position to nap in. You smiled to yourself and continued working.

Soon the plane landed in a private airport in the French city of Nice. Your bags were handled by the hired help, and Charles insisted on carrying your laptop bag for you. This left you walking along his side with Leo in your arms, still sound asleep. The boat ride to Monaco didn't take long and the drive to your shared apartment went by in a blur.

It felt nice being home during race week. You left Leo in his bed and joined Charles in the living room. Coming up from behind you hugged him while softly asking, "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?" (what is on your mind?). Even after all these years you still cringed at your accent.

"The race" he replied.

You sighed as you remembered the dnfs, mechanical failures and team errors that Charles had to endure. Year after year, the pain just kept getting worse as you watched from the grandstands and eventually the garage.

"You should focus on the positives. The team has been performing well and this season has been different than the last 3, there is hope." you weren't sure if what you said was the right thing. You kissed him on the cheek and moved around the couch to come and sit next to him.

"It is not easy when every other time I have had hope, it has been ripped away and torn into tiny pieces," Charles said while looking defeated. You felt sad seeing him like this. You just held your arms out and let him fall into your embrace. With the couch being big enough for two people to sleep on it, soon you and Charles fell asleep, still in the hug.

During Monaco

Photographers snapped photos of you and Rebecca, Leo's leash entwined with your hand. The two of you were spotted outside the Ferrari hospitality an hour before qualifying. Charles was busy with his engineer and strategist and asked you to give him some alone time. So, you thought a small walk around the paddock with your puppy and good friend would be beneficial.

Eventually the crowd of fans surrounding you and Rebecca who wanted to see Leo was getting quite large, so you politely said goodbye to the fans, picked up the pup and made your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. You got a text from your boyfriend.

Can you come to my drivers room?

You entered the room and put Leo down, allowing him to calm down and drink some water from his very own water bottle and attached bowl. "Darling, do you need something?" you asked Charles as he looked tense.

You moved closer to him. Charles caught you by surprise when he pulled you even closer and hugged you extremely tight. "Je ne me sens pas bien," (i don't feel good) he whispered. "C'est bon. Tout ira bien. It's ok, you'll be ok." you quietly kept repeating to him until Leo began demanding attention with his big brown eyes and soft whines.

Charles wiped the few tears that escaped and picked him up with a new smile adorning his face. For a moment, it was just the three of you, your perfect little family. There was a knock at the door, followed by a Ferrari team member informing Charles that he was required in 5 minutes. Charles placed a wet kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you for supporting me the way you do. I love you so much, mon cœur," (my heart) he said, his lips still on your forehead. The pair walked out of the room and split ways. You had the hired help watch Leo for the duration of qualifying in a private room.

You sat with Charles' family just as the Sky Sports camera panned on you. You smiled when you saw yourself on the monitor and gave a small wave while sitting next to Charlotte.

Even though you knew that Charles would easily clear Q1, you could not help the anxiety that made its way throughout your body. He crossed the line and made it to Q2. With the next session, your anxiety worsened. But within 15 minutes your nerves eased.

Q3. This was it. As the minutes slowly turned from 12 to 2, you were feeling sick. Charles' sleek Ferrari flew over the finish line and your hands flew to your mouth. Pole Position. At his home race. At your home race. The cameras focused on you to get your and his family's reaction.

At parc ferme, Charles ran over to his team who hyped him up even more. He signed the wheel and posed for the photos, the smile never leaving his face. Even after finishing up his media duties and making his way back to his family and you in the motorhome, his smile remained ever present. You swore he never hugged you tighter than that.

Race day. The day that actually mattered.

You entered the paddock a few steps behind Charles, Leo once again in your hold. You didn't get a lot of time with Charles, considering he was the man of the hour after securing pole. The two of you shared a moment together before he had to head out for the national anthem.

"Comment te sens-tu, chérie?" (how are you feeling, darling?) you asked him while he changed into his race suit. He looked up and the look on his face gave you your answer. You smiled and he continued wearing his suit. There were butterflies in his stomach. That meant he felt nervous, hopeful, anxious and confident all at once.

Charles was out on the track, and you once again joined his family in the motorhome. At that point though, it would be more appropriate to call them your family. You and Charles have been together for a long time. The pair of you had seen each other at their lowest and highest. When Charles lost his father and when for nearly a year you could not get a job. When news of Anthoine's death reached Charles, he was on holiday with you and your family in another country. Your family gave him the comfort he needed. When you got news that your parents contracted covid, there was nothing you could do sitting in your apartment in Monaco. Pascale was like a second mother to you.

The race began. You found a place to sit and watch the race. Charles was in the lead. A huge crash. A totaled redbull and a red flag. You felt the butterflies creeping up from your stomach to your throat. The race resumed and continued. Piastri was close to Charles, but not enough to threaten his position. It felt like time slowed down during the final lap. You had an earbud plugged in one ear and could hear Crofty's iconic last lap commentary.

The number 16 Ferrari flew past the checkered flag and fireworks flew out from the sides of the track. Charles' family members were already hugging each other and some of the team members who were there. But you didn't move. Tears were flowing down your face and a smile was etched on your face. The first person you moved to hug was Charlotte, the older woman was like an elder sister to you.

The camera's stream kept cutting from Charles out on the track to you and his family in the motorhome. Everyone quickly left the garage and made their way to parc ferme. You saw Charles pull up and stop in front of the 1st place stand. You watched from the back as he ran to his team, Arthur and Lorenzo pushed their way to the front. After getting weighed, the team moved to allow you to come to the front where Charles walked towards you.

Normally, you and Charles would keep the pda on the lesser side when cameras were around, but not this time. The forever smiling face, messy-haired and slightly teary-eyed boyfriend of yours pulled you directly into a powerful kiss. His left arm was around your back while his right hand was half on your face and half on your neck. You could hear and feel all the cameras going off around you.

Charles broke the kiss but kept your foreheads connected. You held both of his hands. "Tu l'as fait," (you did it) you repeated in all the languages you knew while nodding your head. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes again. He quickly blinked them away, "L'ho fatto," (i did it) he said in Italian quickly kissed you once again before hugging you.

You stood below the podium and watched as he received the trophy he had been waiting his entire life for. You were still crying. The tears would not stop, and they only got worse when Charles made eye contact with you after he was presented with the medal. He mouthed the words I love you. So much. Thank you. You could only hold your hand to your heart in response.

After Monaco

Even after a full day, you could still smell the fragrance of champagne wafting off of Charles.

You and Charles had celebrated his win on Sunday night in a club. He was practically glued to your side the entire night. No matter who he was talking to, either he did it while having an arm around you or holding your hand. By the end of the night, you were left with a very clingy and very drunk boyfriend. With Joris's help, you got Charles into the car. He drove the both of you home.

Back at the apartment, Charles seemed to have sobered up a bit after you made him eat some food.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Charles was lying down on the bed and was lovingly staring at you.

"All the time," you answered while changing for the night.

You finished changing and joined Charles in bed. Leo who was previously perched near Charles' feet climbed onto you and snuggled up on your chest.

Charles got your attention by saying your name, "I want you to understand what I mean when I say this. I love you. I appreciate you so much, even I cannot comprehend it. You have supported me throughout my years in Formula 1 and Formula 2. You have stood by me all these years, even when you had to sacrifice your job and sleep schedule for me. Je veux que vous compreniez la profondeur de ce que je dis." (i want you to understand the depth of what i am saying).

His eyes kept moving around but eventually rested on your face. He looked into your eyes when he finally spat out what he truly wanted to say.

"Mon cœur, mon âme, ma vie, je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. Veux-tu m'épouser?" (My heart, my soul, my life, i want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?)

I took you a second to process what Charles said. You looked down and saw him holding a simple gold band with three small diamonds set in it. His free arm was laid across your stomach under Leo, who woke up when he sensed his mom feeling strong emotions.

Tears filled your eyes, your heart began beating faster and you were sweating a bit. Leo moved to the bed and was now licking the tears that fell from your eyes. You felt like you couldn't speak, but you very much knew what your answer was.

Before Monza

The summer break was perfect. You used your paid leave and were fully able to enjoy your time with the entire family. The photos of Leo that Charles posted to his instagram were adored by the fans. Your insta account remained private, but you still posted the dog nonetheless.

Neither of you announced the engagement just yet, wanting to keep it to yourselves for a while. Fans got curious when they saw a new ring around that special finger after Charles' win in Monaco, but since it was quite simple and small, they thought nothing much of it. You were known for wearing many different rings on the same finger, so people thought it was just another ring you fancied.

Unfortunately, after your long break, you were required to come back to the office for a few days for important meetings with the higher-ups of your company. That meant you missed the race in Zandvoort and Charles podium. But you made it up to him by joining him in Monza, his adopted home race.

Walking in the streets of Monza with a loved Ferrari driver was always quite the experience. Leo loved the attention from all the fans, he was a born extrovert. You and Charles had lunch at one of your favourite restaurants. The both of you sat in a relatively private section of the restaurant.

"I missed you at Zandvoort," Charles said before eating a morsel of his favourite pasta. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I tried to leave as early as I could, but by the time the meeting finished it made no sense to come," you said wishing you could have been there for him. Ever since Monaco, the team had been struggling. It brought back painful flashbacks of 2022 and 2023.

Things were not the best between you and Charles during the week you were out for work. The timings never seemed to match, when he had the energy to talk you were too burnt out, and doing all of this while also planning a wedding was not easy. It put a small strain on your relationship which seemed like it was reaching its breaking point during this weekend.

During Monza

You spent the rest of the week working. In between the free practice sessions, you were spotted with a pair of blue-light glasses on and bent over your laptop and a notebook. Leo was either sleeping in his carrier by your feet or was with Arthur or Lorenzo.

You barely saw Charles the entire weekend. He was either busy with his engineer and strategist or was filming content. It only made the strain in your relationship even worse and left Rebecca having to hear your side of it for most of the weekend considering both the boys were quite busy.

It was only before qualifying that you managed to get a moment with Charles at all.

"Charles, I know this is an important race for you, but we need to talk," you sternly said leaving no room for arguments. Charles was about to protest but you simply pulled him by the arm to his drivers room.

"Pourquoi tu ne me parles pas?" (why are you not talking to me?) you folded your arms while facing him. "You have been avoiding me ever since Thursday!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were too tired and 'fagged out' to want to talk," he replied sarcastically and with air quotes. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu dois te comporter comme ça!" (I don't get why you have to behave like that!) Charles started walking around angrily and went off rattling away in French at such a fast pace you could not understand what he was saying.

"Just stop!" you yelled. "Just tell me why you are angry at me," you said, softer this time, almost in defeat.

"I don't like it when you are so busy with your work that you do not have time for us," Charles whispered after a long pause.

"And how do you think I feel when you are so busy with your work? I am required to go to the office at least every six months. You travel around the world every other week. You have less free time than I do, but have you heard me complain? So, instead of getting angry that I had to leave for one week to discuss plans for the company's future with the CEO, you should be happy that it was only one week out of the 52 in a year."

By the time you finished speaking, Charles had his hands over his face and was standing quite far from you. He whispered something inaudibly. With a confused look on your face, you moved closer to your fiancé. Upon feeling your body heat in the cold room, he removed his hands from his face and repeated his words.

I'm sorry.

The both of you wrapped yourselves in an embrace and for 5 minutes were only apologising and promising to do better in the future. You left the room after giving him a kiss. You headed down to the garage wanting to watch quali with Arthur who was watching Leo while you worked.

The timer began the countdown into Q1. Normally you would've been feeling quite nervous, but you were distracted by the charming british singer sitting next to you. Being a young girl during the height of One Direction was something else entirely. Your childhood dreams of meeting your favourite singer from the famous boyband had now come true.

Soon it was time for Q3 and you got a photo with Louis who by the time Q3 began, just like the rest of the world, fell in love with Leo and his photos. Charles put in great laps, but ended up only p4 alongside Russel.

Charles finished with his media duties and met up with you inside the motorhome. You were on a work call when he walked into the room. Leo was in the corner of the room scarfing down his food as if he hadn't eaten in years, his ears flopping all over the place.

You cut the call frustrated, removing your glasses from your face and placing them on your head. "Est-ce que tu vas bien?" (are you good?) he asked while holding you from the side and kissing your temple. You nodded and just packed up your things while Charles gathered his things as well.

The grandstands were filled with a sea of red and occasional yellow. Your outfit consisted of only red, yellow and black. Charles had left for the paddock earlier, so you made plans to have breakfast with Rebecca and leave for the paddock together.

You walked around before the race with Leo on the leash in front of you, Rebecca by your side. "So, how is wedding planning going?" she asked, her beautiful scottish accent making you smile. "We are still looking at venues. All we know is that it's going to be sometime in August of next year."

The drivers would soon be called for the national anthem. So, you went back to the Ferrari garage looking for your soon-to-be husband. You found him sitting next to Arthur, water bottle in hand. Leo instantly ran towards him and began climbing up his dad.

"Just do your best. Give it your all. Je t'aime tellement." (i love you so much) you sent Charles off with a hug. Leo was fast asleep in his carrier, so you joined Arthur down in the garage. You put on the large red headphones and waved at the camera when you saw yourself on the broadcast.

Halfway through the race, it hit you that Charles could possibly win. It was a stretch considering he was attempting a one-stopper. But as lap after lap went by the possibility of that dream coming true seemed more and more likely. His tires were probably gonna look like chewed-up bubblegum by the end of the race, but if he managed them just right...

He did it. He fucking did it. The roar of the Tifosi was stronger than ever. Unlike his last win, this time you were not seated. You were jumping up and down, cheering as loud as you could, matching the energy of the Ferrari team members around you. Some of them hugged you.

While Charles was finishing his cool-down lap, the mechanics and other team members rushed out to greet Charles in parc ferme. You stayed close to Arthur, knowing that you could possibly get pushed in the wrong direction. With a hand around your back, he guided you to the front where you could see the beautiful red car pull up.

Charles came running toward the team, moving quickly to try and hug everyone possible. As he moved from Arthur to hug you, from the corner of your eyes you could see more cameras making their way towards you. FLASH! And that was how one of the iconic photos of Monza 2024 was born. Charles' arms wrapped around you and he had his visor up, his eyes filled with so much emotion. You were smiling widely in the photo and had your hands on either side of his helmet. But the part that made the photo iconic was that your left hand was facing the camera, and in that, you had tucked away all of your fingers except the one with your engagement ring.

Winning the Italian Grand Prix as a Ferrari driver is always special, so you watched the podium celebration from inside the motorhome, wanting him to enjoy the moment with the team and the Tifosi to the fullest.

After Monza

For the next two days, the streets of Monza were filled with Ferrari flags being either hung from somewhere or people waving them around. It seemed like every other Italian was asking for an autograph from Charles or a photo with him. But it wasn't just Charles and Ferrari who were the talk of town. So were you.

That photo of you and Charles just after the race had gone viral. At first, people were freaking out, wondering if the two of you were really engaged or if it was a joke. Only when Charles reposted the photo to his story did fans really start freaking out.

Congratulations were pouring out of everyone's mouth who had seen the photo or heard of the news. You didn't mean for the news to overshadow Charles' incredible win on 38-lap old tires. But it didn't. As a matter of fact, the win and engagement news gelled well together, neither taking away from the other.

The night before the team would be heading to Maranello you and Charles laid in the hotel bed, Leo fast asleep on his own bed. "I'm sorry for not asking if you'd be fine with me announcing our engagement," you said in a soft voice while drawing shapes on his torso. Charles, who had you wrapped around his side, kissed your forehead and said, "Je suis content que tu l'aies fait," (I am glad you did it).

The next morning Charles posted a photo of a formal dinner the two of you had with not just his but also your family where the engagement was announced. Of course, Leo was in the center of the photo.

A/n - honestly idk what i even wrote. i am tired af and just needed to get this out of my system. Hope you enjoyed reading🩵

#itsprashimusic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #formula 1 imgaine #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 driver x reader #charles leclerc x desi!reader #f1 x desi!reader #formula 1 x desi!reader #f1 driver x desi!reader

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bucketgetter535 · 12 days ago

Text

No Margin for Error: Chapter Five

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

CW: Drinking,mild sexual content (no smut you freaks…yet)

WC: 5.1k

Notes: Annndddd we’re back. You guys should like this chapter probably. Lmk what you think 😊

The wind at Silverstone always felt like it had an attitude, like it knew it was hosting one of the biggest races of the year and wanted everyone to feel it. Paige pulled her jacket tighter around her as she crossed the paddock toward the Ferrari garage, her eyes narrowed against the cool breeze.

It was early still, but Mercedes had already sent a message. Their car was fast. Maybe not on raw one-lap pace, but over a race distance? Dangerous. Paige had seen the data. She didn’t need Luca to tell her that if Ferrari didn’t find something extra, this weekend was going to be a fight.

She found him exactly where she expected — leaned up against the pit wall, tablet in hand, scrolling through sector times like the rest of the world didn’t exist. His hood was up against the cold and he looked about as happy as she felt.

“Morning,” Paige said, tugging her gloves on.

Luca glanced up briefly, offering a grunt that passed as a greeting. He tapped a few things on the screen and flipped it around to show her.

“They’re quick,” he said, like it wasn’t obvious.

Paige studied the graph, then sighed. “Long runs look worse than quali sims.”

“Yeah.” Luca smirked. “Your favorite.”

Paige shot him a look but didn’t bother arguing. He was right. She could handle a fast lap. Managing tires and fuel while fending off a Mercedes breathing down her neck for fifty laps? Different story.

She shifted her weight, glancing over toward the garage. Mechanics were moving around like usual, but there was a weird energy. Like something was missing.

“Where’s Azzi?” she asked, frowning.

Luca hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “Sick. Flu or something. She’s not running practice today.”

Paige straightened immediately. “Wait. She’s sick sick? Is she gonna race?”

He shrugged, a motion that somehow said both I hope so and no clue. “Depends how bad it is. Doctors are with her.”

Paige pressed her lips together. Silverstone wasn’t just another track — it was Azzi’s track. If she couldn’t race, that would be an issue.

Before she could ask anything else, a voice cut through the buzz of the garage. Chiara, Ferrari’s head of PR, appeared, tablet in hand and moving with the kind of urgency that always made Paige suspicious.

“Paige,” Chiara said, in that polished tone she used when she was about to ruin your day. “We’ve scheduled a meeting for you. In a few weeks.”

Paige blinked. “Okay… with who?”

Chiara smiled tightly, like she was about to hand over a corporate gift bag. “Dirk van de Meer.”

There was a half-second where the name didn’t register, then it hit her. Van de Meer. Adrian van de Meer. Former Ferrari driver from the early 2000s. Legend in his own right. Which meant—

Paige fought back a groan. PR boyfriend alert. She didn’t even have to ask. She could see it already — some clean-cut golden boy from the Netherlands, shoved into her orbit for “optics” and “future potential” and whatever other nonsense PR liked to throw around.

“Awesome,” Paige said dryly. She caught Luca’s glance out of the corner of her eye. He was trying — and failing — to keep a straight face.

She crossed her arms. “How old is this guy, anyway?”

Chiara didn’t miss a beat. “Twenty-seven.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. Older than her, but not by much. Old enough that if this was some weird matchmaking attempt, it wasn’t technically creepy. Still. She could already picture it: the cameras, the rumors, the endless speculation about Ferrari’s future power couple.

Fantastic.

Luca coughed into his hand, and she shot him a death glare. He only shrugged, like hey, don’t shoot the messenger.

Paige exhaled slowly and looked back at Chiara. “Fine. I’ll meet him. Just… after Silverstone.”

“Of course,” Chiara said with a bright smile, before disappearing back into the chaos of the paddock like a storm had passed through.

Left alone again, Paige leaned against the wall next to Luca. For a second, neither of them said anything.

Then Luca said, deadpan, “You’re gonna love him.”

Paige closed her eyes. “Shut up.”

–

Paige Qualified third

It wasn’t that third was bad.

It was that third at Silverstone, when you knew you could’ve had more, felt like a punch to the ribs.

Paige yanked off her gloves the second she pulled into the garage, her jaw clenched so tight she thought she might crack a molar. She didn’t even look up at the screens flashing provisional results across the pit lane. She didn’t need to. She knew it already — Mercedes locked out the front row, Ferrari in third.

Behind her, the red garage buzzed with energy, trying to spin it as a good result. And technically, it was. Ferrari was miles ahead in the Constructors’ standings. They could afford a race or two where they weren’t perfect.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting like hell.

Paige hopped out of the car and tugged her helmet off, running a hand through her sweaty hair. As the adrenaline faded, the other weight settled back on her shoulders — because, of course, qualifying frustrations weren’t enough.

No. She also had Dirk van de Meer waiting for her.

Apparently, PR Boy couldn’t even wait until after the race. Chiara had texted her mid-morning: “Dirk will be joining us today. Please meet him before media commitments.”

Translation: Smile for the cameras, be friendly, and don’t scare off our sponsor’s golden child.

Paige set her jaw and stalked toward the back of the garage, her race suit half unzipped and tied around her waist. The second she turned the corner, she spotted him.

Dirk. Tall, blond, textbook Dutch features. White Ferrari polo shirt like he belonged there already, laughing too loud at something Chiara said. He had the same easy, polished look that always seemed to follow sons of ex-drivers around — born to be here, even if he hadn’t earned a damn thing yet.

Paige slowed her steps, dragging out the inevitable. She caught sight of Luca off to the side, pretending to busy himself with a laptop but definitely watching the whole thing unfold like it was reality TV. Paige gave him a look that said I will murder you in your sleep and kept walking.

And then, a little farther down, she saw Azzi.

Azzi was sitting on one of the spare tires near the wall, still in her race suit, helmet resting beside her. She looked pale, miserable, and more frustrated than Paige had ever seen her. Normally, Azzi at Silverstone was a weapon — sharp, deadly, untouchable. Today, she looked like she was barely hanging on.

Their eyes met for a split second, and Paige’s heart twisted. Azzi didn’t have to say anything. Paige could see it — the sickness still weighing her down, the frustration of knowing her body was betraying her at one of the biggest races of the year.

Paige hesitated, torn between storming over to check on Azzi and dealing with the PR nightmare standing a few feet away. Chiara, naturally, solved it for her.

“Paige! Over here,” she called, bright and fake.

Paige gritted her teeth and turned toward Dirk. He stuck out a hand like they were old friends.

“Dirk van de Meer,” he said, flashing a perfect grin.

“Paige,” she said shortly, shaking his hand once before dropping it like it burned. Her voice was calm, but her mind was still with Azzi, still furious at herself for not putting the lap together, still pissed she had to deal with this circus instead of being able to focus.

Dirk didn’t seem to notice the iciness. Or if he did, he powered through it with PR training so thick you could smell it. He asked some polite question about her qualifying — she didn’t even remember what — and she answered automatically, her eyes flickering back toward Azzi every few seconds.

Azzi hadn’t moved. She was just sitting there, staring at the floor, hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.

Luca finally drifted closer, mercifully inserting himself into the conversation under the guise of checking her data screen. Paige barely registered what he said, only that it gave her an excuse to pull away from Dirk.

She muttered something about media duties and ducked toward the garage exit, not waiting for permission.

She needed a second. Away from cameras. Away from fake smiles. Away from the growing pressure in her chest that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Silverstone was supposed to be a statement. And now it felt like they were barely surviving it.

–

Paige barely made it to her little room off the back of the Ferrari motorhome before she collapsed face-first onto the narrow bed.

It wasn’t exactly glamorous — a twin mattress, a chair, a tiny desk piled with unopened water bottles and a couple half-eaten protein bars — but it was hers for the weekend. A place to disappear for five minutes and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

She kicked her shoes off and stretched out with a groan. Every part of her body felt heavy — the adrenaline crash from qualifying, the pressure, the PR nonsense — it all layered over her like a second fireproof suit she couldn’t peel off.

And somewhere, at the back of her mind, a new and very real fear was setting in: if Azzi gave her the flu, she would kill her.

Paige flipped over onto her back and stared at the ceiling, arms sprawled out like a crime scene.

“I swear to God,” she muttered, voice rough, “if I get sick and have to race like that, I’m taking her out at Turn Three. I don’t care. Straight up.”

She was halfway considering napping — just a quick reset — when she heard the faint sound of someone moving next door.

The shuffle of feet. A door closing quietly.

Azzi.

Paige blinked up at the ceiling for a second, debating. She should probably stay here. Germs. Sanity. Self-preservation.

But… it was Azzi. And Paige couldn’t just ignore her.

Grumbling under her breath, Paige hauled herself up and wandered over. She rapped her knuckles lightly against the doorframe.

“Hey,” she said, voice still low from exhaustion. “You alive in there?”

The door cracked open, and there was Azzi — messy bun barely hanging on, race suit half undone, a hoodie pulled on over the top. She looked like hell. Pale, tired, dark circles under her eyes. Still, she managed a half-smirk.

“You sure you wanna risk it?” Azzi said, voice scratchy but teasing. “I’m like… one step away from biohazard level.”

Paige leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Yeah, well, if I get sick, I’m running you off track tomorrow. Fair warning.”

Azzi snorted and stepped back to let her in. Paige followed, already regretting it a little because holy hell, it smelled like Vicks and cough drops in here.

“You already look sick, bro,” Azzi said, dropping onto the edge of her bed with a wince.

Paige froze. “What?”

Azzi looked up at her, half amused, half serious. “Yeah. You’re all pale and sweaty. Gross.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “That’s just… qualifying stress.”

“Mmhmm.” Azzi wrapped herself tighter in her hoodie like a burrito. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Paige huffed and sat down in the only chair, immediately regretting how much her legs ached. Now that Azzi mentioned it… she did feel kind of weird. But it was probably just adrenaline.

They sat in silence for a minute, the quiet hum of the paddock barely leaking in from outside. It wasn’t awkward. It never was with Azzi. Even sick and miserable, she was still Azzi — the one person who didn’t make Paige feel like she had to perform every second she was wearing red.

Paige leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

“Just don’t breathe directly on me,” she muttered.

Azzi laughed weakly. “No promises.”

–

From the second Paige opened her eyes, she knew it wasn’t going to be a good day.

It wasn’t the flu — not yet, anyway — but something gnawed at her edges. A bad mood, raw and restless under her skin, tightening everything until her muscles ached before she even got in the car.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was the fact that Azzi was apparently going to race today, despite what every medical professional in the country of Britain had advised.

Paige dragged herself through morning meetings and media duties on autopilot, nodding at the right times, signing autographs, posing for the same pictures she always did.

It all felt distant. Like she was wading through static.

By the time she was strapping into the car on the grid, helmet already steaming with her own breath, she forced herself to focus. Third place. Good start position. Damage control today. Don’t do anything stupid.

The lights went out, and Silverstone roared to life.

Paige got off the line clean, tucking neatly behind the two Mercedes and immediately slamming the door on the McLaren trying to sneak up the inside. She held her position through the first lap, her car heavy and twitchy with fuel, the tires screaming on cold asphalt.

By Lap 10, she was in a rhythm. Controlled. Mechanical.

3rd. Still 3rd.

“Update on Azzi?” Paige asked over the radio, voice steady even if her stomach twisted at the question.

A crackle of static, and then Luca’s voice, clear and professional:

“Currently 7th. She’s holding pace but dropping a little.”

Paige exhaled through her nose. Good enough, she guessed. Azzi had no business being in the car today, but if she could survive the race, that was all they needed.

Turn One came up fast, Silverstone’s brutal high-speed right-hander. Paige flicked the wheel in — and the front end didn’t bite the way it should.

Understeer. Subtle, but real.

“Understeer, Turn One,” she said calmly into the radio, adjusting her steering mid-corner.

There was a pause. Then Luca:

“Sorry? You’re feeling understeer?”

Paige blinked, irritation flaring hotter than it should have. “What? No. There is understeer. In Turn One. Track’s getting greasy or the wind’s shifted or something, I don’t know. Figure it out, Luca.”

Another beat of static.

“Copy,” Luca said, way too neutral for Paige’s liking.

She gritted her teeth and kept pushing, heart pounding harder than it should for Lap 11 of 52. Every time she turned the wheel, it felt like the car was a second behind her, lazy and stubborn. Every time she thought about Azzi, still fighting through fever and muscle aches, it twisted something deeper in her gut.

She wasn’t sick.

She wasn’t tired.

She wasn’t anything.

She was just angry.

At the track. At the car. At herself for caring so much.

At Azzi for racing when she shouldn’t.

At Dirk and his stupid PR smiles.

At the universe for daring to make her feel anything today at all.

Paige slammed the car over the curbs and punched out of the corner, engine screaming under her.

3rd. Still 3rd.

But it felt like barely holding on.

–

Fourth place.

Not a disaster. Not a win, either.

Paige went through the media gauntlet like she was sleepwalking — same questions, same fake smiles. How was the car? Was she happy with the result? How’s the team morale heading into the break?

Smile. Nod. Say the right things. Don’t think too hard.

She hadn’t seen Azzi since the cooldown room. Actually, she wasn’t even sure Azzi made it through the whole race. Someone said she finished, someone else said she got hauled straight to medical. Paige pretended she didn’t care. Pretended really hard.

After the last interview, Paige peeled off her race suit in the garage, pulled on a hoodie and leggings, shoved her duffel bag over her shoulder, and left without another word.

Hotel.

Shower.

Flight.

Forget Silverstone ever happened.

The two-week break stretched out in front of her like a life raft. She hadn’t been home to Minneapolis for longer than a few days since preseason testing. All she wanted was to sleep in her own bed, see her family, remind herself she was still a person and not just a Ferrari-branded robot.

Paige got to the private terminal just after sunset, the Silverstone sky bleeding into deep blue and gold.

And there it was — Azzi’s jet.

It looked exactly how Paige expected it to: sleek, polished, expensive enough to make her bones ache.

She wasn’t even sure if she was invited on it. But someone from logistics had just said, “Yeah, you’re flying with Azzi back to the States,” like it was no big deal. So here she was.

Paige climbed the short set of stairs and ducked inside, half expecting to be tackled by security or something.

Instead, Azzi was sprawled across one of the big leather couches, hoodie up, headphones half-on. She looked up when Paige entered, blinking like she was still coming back to reality.

“Hey,” Azzi said, voice rough but better than yesterday.

“Hey,” Paige answered, shoving her bag into an overhead compartment before flopping down across from her.

The engines started to hum underfoot. A flight attendant offered water, snacks, blankets — all of which Paige awkwardly declined. She wasn’t used to flying like this. It felt like stepping into someone else’s life.

The jet taxied and lifted off with barely a bump, angling toward the U.S. East Coast.

Azzi pulled off her headphones and tossed them onto the seat beside her.

“You headed home?” she asked, voice casual.

“Yeah. Minneapolis,” Paige said, stretching her legs out.

Azzi smiled faintly. “Two weeks of peace and quiet.”

“Hopefully.”

They sat there for a while, the noise of the engines soft and steady around them.

Paige realized it was the first time since that night in New York they’d really talked without helmets on, without the garage screaming around them, without strategists hovering nearby like vultures.

Azzi looked different outside of a race suit — softer, almost. Still competitive under the surface, but quieter about it.

And Paige… Paige didn’t know who she was right now. Just tired, probably. Or maybe remembering there was a real world out there, somewhere beyond press conferences and tire compounds.

“First time on a private jet?” Azzi asked, smirking.

Paige rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

Azzi chuckled, low and scratchy. “Not bad, right?”

Paige leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “Not bad at all.”

–

The hours blurred together in the kind of quiet that didn’t feel awkward.

The hum of the engines, the soft lighting, the low, steady rhythm of flight — it all made it easy to forget everything they were usually supposed to be.

Paige stared out the window for a while, watching the stars scatter across the dark sky.

When she turned back, Azzi was still sitting there, hood pulled low, looking half-asleep but not quite gone.

“You got family back home?” Azzi asked finally, voice rough but curious.

Paige nodded. “Yeah. My little brother, Drew. Probably taller than me by the time I land.”

Azzi grinned a little at that. “They grow fast when you’re not looking.”

“Tell me about it,” Paige said, smiling despite herself. “And my dad’s there too. He’s — he’s great. Still thinks he knows more about Formula One than he does.”

“Classic.”

Paige laughed under her breath, feeling herself loosen up. “My mom… she’s out in Montana now. Bought a ranch or something after the divorce. Not really in the picture anymore, but it’s fine. I think she’s happier that way.”

Azzi nodded slowly, like she understood without needing all the messy details.

Paige shifted, pulling one leg up onto the seat. “What about you?”

Azzi smiled faintly, her fingers tugging at the hem of her hoodie. “Parents are still in D.C. I’ve got two younger brothers. Jon and Jose.”

“Yeah? You close with them?”

Azzi shrugged. “In the way brothers and sisters are. They were always around growing up — annoying me, taking my stuff. Pretty classic younger brother stuff.”

Paige laughed again, genuinely this time. “Sounds about right.”

Azzi tilted her head back against the couch, looking at Paige through half-lidded eyes. “You probably would’ve fit right in.”

Paige smirked. “Probably would’ve been grounded every weekend.”

“Definitely,” Azzi said, smiling wider.

For a minute, they just sat there, letting the conversation breathe. Then something clicked in Paige’s brain.

“Wait,” Paige said, sitting up straighter. “If your whole family’s in D.C., why the hell do you live in New York?”

Azzi blinked, like she hadn’t expected the question. “Wanted some space. After I signed with Ferrari, it just… made sense to be closer to everything. Europe flights, brand stuff, whatever. Plus, D.C.’s a little too — I don’t know — perfect sometimes. New York’s real. Loud. Messy. I like it.”

Paige thought about that, nodding slowly. She couldn’t blame her.

There was something about New York that made you feel small and big at the same time. Like you could be nobody and still belong there.

“Besides,” Azzi added, grinning lazily, “I wouldn’t survive another Christmas with my mom setting up matching pajamas.”

Paige snorted, shaking her head. “God. I feel that.”

The conversation slipped into another lull, but it wasn’t heavy. Just comfortable.

Until Paige sighed and slumped further into her seat, muttering, “Fucking Dirk.”

Azzi’s eyebrow arched, sharp and amused. “Dirk, huh?”

Paige groaned into her sleeve. “Yeah. Fucking Dirk. Ferrari’s latest genius PR move.”

Azzi laughed, coughing a little. “The Netherlands guy?”

“Yep,” Paige said, popping the p. “Supposed to be some golden boy. Son of a former Ferrari driver. I’m probably supposed to be fake-dating him for sponsor points or some shit.”

Azzi looked way too entertained. “You gonna?”

“God, no.” Paige rubbed her face. “The guy probably irons his jeans.”

Azzi cracked up at that, the sound low and a little raspy but real. Paige smiled despite herself, basking for a second in the normalcy of it all.

No helmets. No pressure. No cameras.

Just two girls, exhausted and flying through the night sky toward something that — for a little while — wasn’t racing.

–

It had been one week. Well, a little less

Five whole days of pretending she was a normal person again — seeing family, catching up with friends, trying to remember how to sleep past 7 A.M. without an alarm screaming at her.

And now here Paige was, back in New York, standing at some bougie rooftop event she didn’t even want to be at, pretending she cared about fancy cars and overpriced champagne… all because of fucking Dirk.

Dirk van something.

He was as punchable in person as Paige remembered. Tall, hair slicked back like he thought he was stepping onto a magazine cover. He smiled too much, laughed too loud, and kept finding excuses to stand just a little too close.

Ferrari’s PR dreamboy.

Paige’s personal nightmare.

She had been texting Azzi under the table all night.

PB5: i will kill him

PB5: i swear to god azzi i will catch a charge tonight

Azzi’s responses came quick, like she was laughing from wherever she was.

AF35: sounds like a u problem

AF35: i have more tequila tho

AF35: come over after

Paige didn’t even hesitate.

PB5: bet.

She stuck it out another forty-five miserable minutes — posed for a few pictures, shook a few hands, gave Dirk exactly zero smiles — and then slipped out of the event the second no one was looking.

Her heels clicked sharply against the Manhattan sidewalk as she texted Azzi again.

PB5: omw. u better have limes.

Azzi just sent back a thumbs-up emoji. Paige smirked, already feeling the weight of the night start to peel off her shoulders.

–

By the time she got to Azzi’s place, Paige was looking ridiculous — and she knew it.

Loose pink sweater. Hair slicked back. Earrings she didn't even like that much.

She looked like she was still walking into something actually important, not an impromptu tequila night with a friend who probably hadn’t changed out of sweatpants.

Paige knocked once, then let herself in when she heard Azzi call, “It’s open!”

The apartment was half lit, music low, and Azzi was curled up on the giant couch in athletic shorts and a hoodie, hair thrown into a messy bun.

“Hey,” Azzi said when she looked up. “You’re awfully dressed up.”

Paige dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes dramatically.

“I had to survive Dirk for three hours. I deserve to look hot.”

Azzi laughed, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. “Fair. Very fair.”

Paige flopped onto the couch, feeling her spine crack in about twelve different places. A minute later, Azzi came back balancing two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“You really came through,” Paige said, impressed.

Azzi grinned. “Told you. I don’t mess around.”

They poured shots — no measuring, just vibes — and clinked glasses sloppily before knocking them back.

It burned, sharp and fast. Paige winced and then smiled, the first real smile she’d had all day.

They settled into the couch, trading war stories from the past week — Paige about Dirk and the PR people trying to wrangle her into “joint photos,” Azzi about a family dinner that ended with her mom trying to set her up with someone Azzi definitely would never be into.

Paige wiped tears from her eyes at that one. “What is it with moms and matchmaking?”

Azzi shrugged, smirking. “Control issues, probably.”

Another shot. Another laugh.

Somewhere between complaining about PR nightmares and arguing about who had the worse fake dating prospects, Paige realized how easy this felt — how stupidly normal it was to be here, tequila loose in her veins, her hair slipping out of its sleek style, laughing until her ribs hurt.

Azzi nudged her with a socked foot. “Hey. You survived Dick, I mean, Dirk. That’s something.”

“Barely,” Paige muttered, tipping her head back against the couch cushions.

Azzi just smiled — a real smile, tired but genuine — and poured them another round.

–

The tequila was working its way into every limb, slow and warm, making the whole room feel softer at the edges.

Paige was stretched out on the couch, feet up, hair a mess. She wasn’t about to admit it, but she was way too comfortable here.

Azzi refilled both their glasses — smaller pours this time — and flopped down next to her, bumping Paige’s knee with her own.

“Remember the last time you were here?” Azzi asked, voice low and teasing.

Paige hummed, pretending to think. “Mhm.”

Azzi smirked. “You swore you could beat me at cards. Got your ass kicked. Twice.”

“I let you win,” Paige said lazily, grinning sideways at her.

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Sure you did.”

She reached over and grabbed a deck off the coffee table. Just sitting there like it had been waiting for this. She held it up between two fingers. “Wanna run it back?”

Paige shrugged, not really caring about the cards but liking the way Azzi looked at her — half-challenging, half-daring. “Why not.”

Azzi started shuffling, but it was half-assed, the cards slipping between her fingers like she wasn’t paying attention. Paige watched her, feeling the air between them shift — slower, heavier.

It wasn’t the tequila. Or maybe it was. But it wasn’t just that.

They barely made it through one hand.

Paige couldn’t even remember who was supposed to be winning.

Because somewhere between Azzi leaning closer to toss a card down and Paige reaching across to grab another, the game stopped mattering completely.

Azzi looked at her — really looked at her — and Paige felt it like a pull under her skin. The kind of look you didn’t just brush off.

“You’re really bad at this,” Azzi murmured, her voice all soft edges.

Paige smiled lazily, heart kicking a little harder against her ribs. “Maybe I’m just distracted.”

Azzi didn’t move for a second. Just held her there, suspended.

Then, almost like it wasn’t even a choice, she closed the distance — a hand brushing Paige’s knee, the casual touch sparking hotter than it had any right to.

Paige tilted her head, smirking without thinking. “You distracted?”

Azzi’s fingers curled slightly against her leg. “Maybe.”

The cards slid off the couch, forgotten completely, a fluttering mess on the floor.

Neither of them noticed.

Azzi’s hand slid higher on Paige’s thigh, slow, deliberate — and that was it.

Paige moved first, grabbing Azzi’s hoodie by the collar and pulling her in hard.

The kiss was messy. Too much teeth, too much desperation.

Azzi pushed back into her, hands everywhere — Paige’s hip, her waist, the bare skin at the back of her neck.

It wasn’t like the last time.

It wasn’t like the first time either.

Not like the drunken, half-laughing kiss they’d had after a podium party in Monaco when they were still teenagers — both pretending it didn’t mean anything.

This was different.

This had intent.

Paige gasped into Azzi’s mouth as she felt herself pulled across the couch, practically into Azzi’s lap. She kissed Azzi harder, tilting her head, demanding more.

Azzi gave it to her without hesitation.

Their hands fumbled — over clothes, skin, fabric — too fast, too much.

Paige shoved Azzi’s hoodie up, palms flat against the warmth of her stomach, feeling the slight tremble there.

Azzi swore under her breath and tugged at Paige’s sweater, unbuttoning it with rough hands. Paige arched into her, breath hitching when Azzi’s fingers skimmed along her abs.

“Fuck,” Azzi muttered, voice breaking, mouth moving down Paige’s neck. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Good,” Paige said, biting back a shudder.

The sweater slipped off her shoulders and hit the floor, forgotten. Azzi kissed lower, open-mouthed against the skin of her collarbone, and Paige let her head fall back, her hands tangling in Azzi’s hair to keep herself grounded.

It was frantic — months of racing side by side, arguing, shoving, pretending not to notice the way they looked at each other when they thought no one else was watching.

Years of it, really — ever since they were seventeen and F3 teammates and too stupid to do anything about it.

Azzi’s hands were rough and sure, sliding down Paige’s bare sides, making her breath stutter.

“You sure?” Azzi asked, voice wrecked, a thread of restraint still hanging on somehow.

Paige opened her eyes — dark, heavy-lidded — and smiled, slow and dangerous.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Azzi kissed her again — hard, deep, hungry — and Paige didn’t think after that.

There was only heat and skin and the sound of Azzi breathing her name against her throat.

Only the weight of Azzi’s body pressing her into the couch cushions.

Only the wild, dizzy feeling that maybe this wasn’t just some drunk, stupid mistake — maybe it never had been.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn wbb #uconnwbb #pazzi fics #dallas wings

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cyberhughes · 4 months ago

Text

— 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ quinn hughes

🌊 chapter one: awkward.

last chapter | next chapter

*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: quinn hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: swearing, jack lowk being a perv for a quick second, nothing really happens here, just quinn being awkward as fuck lol

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: hope you guys had some fun new year celebrations <3 i was under the table eating grapes bc lord knows there cannot be a repeat of 2024💀💀🙏🙏also i only reviewed this like once so just ignore any spelling errors if there’s any🎀

series masterlist + character intros

it had been eight years—nearly a decade since aurora had seen the hughes brothers. though she could still picture their boyish grins and foolish antics like it was just yesterday.

they hadn’t kept in touch much since they moved, aurora and luke would facetime around the holidays, but never jack and quinn. aurora missed them of course, but she was happy that they were pursuing their dreams, touring different cities and playing in the nhl.

it had been a year and a half since her brother ashton announced his engagement to his highschool sweetheart, melissa. the couple would be having their wedding in michigan, wanting to keep it small and intimate.

this wasn’t a shock to aurora, the couple not being the type of people to want a super extravagant wedding. what was a shock however, was hearing that they would be having their wedding at the lake house.

quinn’s lake house.

it was a beautiful property, and perfect for the intimate wedding they were envisioning. quinn had also wanted to host them the few nights leading up to the wedding, not wanting them to spend any more money than they had to on a hotel.

it was beyond generous, and because of this aurora knew he hadn’t changed. he was always doing everything he could for others, always wanting to put a smile on everyone’s faces.

and thats why, for the week leading up to their flight, aurora would spend every minute preparing herself for the reunion. he hadn’t changed, but she had.

he hadn’t seen her in eight years, the version of aurora he knew was long gone. she no longer had braces and bushy eyebrows, but had grown into a beautiful young woman. she was 21, but she still felt that childish need to impress them, almost needing to seem more mature than she really was.

she’d prove that she wasn’t that same little girl anymore.

the cool summer breeze sent a chill down aurora’s spine, or maybe it was the nervousness that was finally setting in upon their arrival in michigan. the airport was busy, families bustling around, probably arriving for their summer getaways as well.

“oh aren’t you so excited to see luke?” aurora’s mom placed her hands on her shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. “he’s taller than you now!”

aurora laughed at her mom’s excitement, nodding in agreement. last time she had seen luke he was barely taller than her, but she had seen photos that ellen sent and he had grown up to be the tallest of the brothers.

“oh, i think your father found ash.” her mom pointed out the black car her dad was jogging towards, luggage clunking behind him.

“RORY!” ashton exclaimed hopping out of the drivers seat, a wide smile on his face and she giggled, dropping the handle of her suitcase and practically jumped into her brother’s arms. “ASH, YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED!” she hugged him tightly, trying to make up for the months she went without him.

“really? i didn’t know!” he chuckled, pulling away and ruffling her hair with his hand, to which she pouted and tried to smooth down her hair again. “we’ll have to stop back at our place to get melissa, then we’ll go straight to the lake.” ashton explained, grabbing their suitcases and putting them into the trunk of the car.

aurora felt a tinge of excitement as they got closer to seeing the hughes,

or more specifically, quinn.

“we’re here!” the sound of gravel squeaking underneath the tires awoke aurora, signalling that they were finally at the lake house.

as they pulled into the driveway, the front door of the house swung open, revealing a 6’2 giant that aurora almost didn’t recognize, but it was that same boyish smile that she saw that made all the memories come flooding back.

“LUKEY!” aurora jumped out of the car, her brother scolding her as she ran since he hadn’t even put it in park yet.

“RORY!” she jumped into his arms and he swung her around, the two giggling and feeling like little kids again. even though they had been separated for almost a decade, it felt like nothing had changed between them.

from the car, aurora’s mom was snapping pictures of their reunion, making a joke about how they were exactly the same as when they were 13.

“holy shit,” he set her down and examined her as if he was checking that this was really her, and not some imposter. “you actually look good!” she playfully punched his shoulder at his comment. “you look good too, finally grew out of that big head huh?”

there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness as they joked, which they were both secretly nervous about.

“now who’s this pretty little lady?” she peeked behind luke’s frame to see jack strutting towards them, a charming grin on his face.

“hey rowdy.” she rolled her eyes playfully, walking over to give him a hug. he pulled away and smirked, looking down. “when did you get those?” she looked at him puzzled, before realizing what he was talking about and her face flushed a deep red. “oh my god, you’re still such a pervert.” she shoved him away as he let out a hearty laugh.

aurora let a small smile form on her face as she looked at the two boys in front of her, she could feel her heart melting, they were all grown up.

but someone was missing.

“so uhm, where’s quinny?” she asked, taking a step backward, wanting to go back to the car to grab her suitcase, but her ankle twisted under the gravel and her eyes widened as she felt her balance disappear.

she thought she’d fall, but instead she felt a hard surface on her back and two hands on her arms, and she craned her head to look up.

holy shit.

“q-quinn!” she scrambled out of his hold, straightening out to face him. he looked like a completely different. he was taller of course, his hair was longer and messier, not how he had it as a kid where it was clean cut and combed. he had a scruffy beard and his eyes were tired.

she couldn’t quite decipher what the look in his eyes meant as he stared back at her, but the second he blinked it was gone, and he offered a small smile, but something felt different about it. “how are you, aurora?”

aurora.

not rory.

“i’m good…” she nodded her head slowly, taken aback by the awkwardness of the situation. was he not excited to see her? she could feel her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “and you?”

“doing good.” he pressed his lips in a straight line and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

from behind them, jack could be seen whispering into luke’s ear, “this is kind of fucking weird, right?” the younger boy nodded in agreement. they didn’t really know how the thought quinn would react to seeing her again, but it was surely wasn’t like this

“THESE SUITCASES ARENT GOING TO UNLOAD THEMSELVES!” they heard ashton yell jokingly from the car, pretending to struggle as he carried them out.

“i’ll go help your brother, jack and luke can show you around.” quinn said and aurora hesitantly nodded.

before he could fully turn around, she decided to grab his arm, and pull him into a quick hug. “i’m happy to see you, quinn.” she said quietly and he stood there feeling shocked.

he looked down at the girl hugging him with wide eyes. hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her, finally reciprocating the greeting.

aurora blushed as she felt his muscles tense as she hugged him, he was definitely much more built than he was 8 years ago.

she pulled away and gave him a smile and he could see the same twinkle in her eyes she had all those years ago. he returned the smile and nodded, before going to help ashton.

she watched the way he jogged to the car and could feel her stomach turning. this was a different quinn, it wasn’t her quinn.

“OKAY!” jack clapped his hands together, breaking the tension in the air. “let’s give you a tour, yeah?”

aurora nodded, following the two brothers into the house, but not before trying to catch one last look at quinn.

maybe he had changed, after all.

the rest of the day had been relaxed, the grays —asides from ashton, getting a tour of the house, taking a peek at the boat, having a nice barbecue dinner, and ending the day with a fee card games.

the tiredness of travelling had hit them and they decided that it was time to head to bed, everyone heading to their designated rooms. aurora was rooming with luke since the two had wanted to catch up and have relive the times where they would have sleepovers back in the day.

and now it was 2 am, and aurora was laying wide awake beside luke, staring at the way the ceiling fan spun around, mirroring the way her mind was spinning.

quinn had barely talked to her all day. she had locked eyes with him a few times but he broke the eye contact before it even started.

she thought that maybe he was mad at her for not keeping touch after they moved, but the phone works both ways, right?

the overthinking paired with the summer heat had made her thirsty. she didn’t want to have to wake luke up, but she also felt shy to grab her self a glass from the kitchen since she hadn’t been here long.

“lukey.” she turned to face the snoring boy, poking him gently on the arm. he shifted, but didn’t wake up. she could only wish she was as good a sleeper like him.

she bit her lip and sat up, deciding to just go by herself. she put on her fuzzy socks before tip toeing out of the bedroom, trying her hardest to not make any noise to disturb anyone.

she had made her way to the kitchen through the hallway that was decorated in family photos. being successful in keeping quiet she searched the cabinets, still in the dark, before finding herself a glass and filling it up with tap water.

she sighed as she placed the cup down, looking out the window at the lake. she was kind of jealous that quinn had a view like this right in his backyard, but then again he worked extremely hard for it.

she went to wash her cup in the sink when suddenly the light flickered on and she whipped her head around to see who was there.

it was quinn, of course. he was wearing a pair of plaid pyjama pants and a grey tshirt, the waistband of his pants slightly hanging low, and aurora found her eyes wandering lower and lower.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, and it was probably the most he had said to her the whole day. she noticed his hair was messy, and his eyes not fully open, meaning that she had woken him up.

“yeah, i’m sorry, i was just getting some water.” he nodded at her response as she placed the cup in the drying rack beside the sink.

they stood in an silence for a moment. quinn scratched the hair on his chin, opting to break the awkward silence, “are you okay sleeping with luke? if you want, you can take my room.” he offered. he recognized that he hadn’t been the most welcoming towards her, and was trying break the tension.

“i couldn’t, you’re already doing so much for ash and us.” she politely rejected. “well if he snores too loud, the offer will still be there.” he said and she nodded, the awkwardness making it’s return. they stood there another moment before he pursed his lips and nodded, turning on his heels to go back to his bedroom.

“did i do something wrong?” she asked, stopping him and his tracks, voice louder than she had intended to.

he turned his head and shook his head. “no, you didn’t, why?” he asked and she shrugged her shoulders. “uhm…nothing.” she brushed it off and he nodded.

“goodnight,” he stopped as if to think,

“rory.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #fem oc

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writingmeraki · 1 year ago

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be there when I wake up — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you love mingyu in all states of your mind, whether sober or drunk out of your limit.

( or it seems even when you're drunk you don't recognise him but you still love him with your whole heart. )

pairing : secret agent! husband mingyu x secret agent! spouse reader. warnings : mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, reader almost has a breakdown (?). genre : fluff, romance. a/n : more of them, I can't get enough I have too much to write on them😔 let me know what you think of this 💌!! not proofread (this was very random pls I am absolutely NOT procrastinating my other wips, ignore errors pls it's lit 5am 😴 )

word count : 1.3k

part of this au !

It felt like you were on cloud nine, feet light as you walked and head filled with nothing.

Being drunk tends to do that to you at least.

Today, when Mingyu and you got your well deserved day off, he decided it was time for you to be the one to let yourself loose.

Not that he never did let you but usually you were the one who assigned yourself as the designated driver whenever it was just you two. Though being as thoughtful as he was, he made sure to never be too hectic for you to handle if he could do it himself.

And even then, he'd still do his best to stabilise himself albeit the attempts were always hilarious but the thought counted.

He held you tightly by your waist to his side, making sure you didn't fall or wander off somewhere because see while he was the type to be the clingy drunk, not leaving your side, you were the carefree one, wanting to fly away, perhaps even quite literally.

As your husband and more importantly lover, he did not want to entertain the idea of you hurting yourself by accident. Luckily, all the gym hours he’d spend building his muscles to impress his one and only lifetime crush (read:you) paid off, because you used him completely as a support to walk, leaning all your weight on him.

Your cheeks were warm, eyes half lidded, now the pain in your cheeks was prominent from smiling so much, it seemed you smiled more when drunk than sober in a few months. It wasn’t because you were emotionless but rather only smiled to those who deserve it, which was only a handful of people. Your husband is on the top of course.

Speaking of your husband, you suddenly paused in your steps, remembering him. Realising you were clinging onto someone, you pushed yourself away, smile dropping and being replaced by a frown while you glared.

Mingyu blinked once, twice, a little startled from being pushed away and even more when he saw your glare.

“You shouldn’t hold some stranger like that, mister.” You could make out the silhouette in front of you, but the face was a blur. The classic case of drunken forgetfulness.

“Babe-”

“BABE? Are you crazy? Only my husband can call me that! Which by the way.” You put out your left hand, pointing towards the shiny ring. The shiny ring he got you. “See!I’m married!”

“And-and I am very happy with my Gyu, I don’t need you- or or anyone courting me- I am very happy with my relationship sir.”

Fuck. Why did you have to say it like that?

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, there was no way he could even if he tried to. Only you could make him feel like the first time he'd ever have a crush on someone. His heart raced, almost too fast. He swears he can feel his chest fill with even more love.

“Okay, okay how about I get you to your car?”

“No mister! I re-refuse I don't want to go with you, where's Mingyu? Where's Gyu???”

You were whining at this point, finding your legs too tired so you ended up just sitting. Right in the middle of the pavement.

Mingyu’s eyes widened when you sat down but even more in panic, the smile dropping as he saw you bring your hands to your face.

You were crying.

“Where's Gyu? Did he leave me?” A hiccup came after the sentence, as your vision got more blurry with the tears flowing even more freely.

He rushed towards you squatting beside you, pulling you into his side.

“Honey, I'm here. Shh. I'm here.”

You looked up from your position, making sure to blink to clear out the tears and there he was. Your husband.

“Gyuuu” Your words slurred and choked up as you threw yourself at him. Him immediately wrapping his hands around you, still in the sitting position.

Your arms looped yourself around his neck as you put your head in the crook of his neck, still crying.

“I thought you le-left.”

“I'd never. I would never leave you.”

“Please don't.”

Slowly, he got up, pulling you gently up as well, still holding onto you and your entire weight now leaned on him.

“Come on, you wanna head home?” You pulled your face away from the nook, looking up at him as your sobs stopped turning to sniffles.

He moved one hand to hold your face as he caressed your cheek, pushing your stray hair strands behind your ears with delicate touches.

Your eyes began to droop, the side effects of being drunk slowly overcoming you. You just simply nodded as you put your head back to his comfy shoulder.

Sighing, he shook his head as he noticed your breathing slowing down, coming out in slow exhales, meaning you just passed out drunk.

He softly smiled as his hand still caressed your hair. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[ bonus cut : the following morning ]

You were sure this was your karma catching up to you because the way your head was splitting was surely due to your supposed horrible past deeds. There was no other reason.

“Good morning sunshine~”

“Zip. Shut. Shh. Not a word.”

Mingyu frowned, pouting at your harsh reply, but a small pity formed as he saw you wake up while holding your head in pain.

“That's mean.”

“Not mean enough, I will actually kill you.”

Being the ever so doting husband he was, he'd gotten up from your shared bed, made breakfast, your favourite food by the way, and even gotten ready for the day.

“Have this, you'll feel better so that maybe you can plan my murder better hm?”

And now there he sat down beside you on your bed, a painkiller in one hand with a glass of water.

You grabbed the water like you had never touched it in your existence, gulping it down along with the pill,even if it ended up spilling onto your clothes. You frankly don't care.

Mingyu gazed at you with the same adoration he always had. He loved you at all times, anytime. He just knew that he loves you. He didn't think he said it enough.

“I love you.” You almost choked on the water, gulping it down before it sprayed out. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I not say I love you to my spouse?” He honestly felt offended at the suspicious look on your face.

“Alright…”

Now it was his turn to squint at you in question, as if waiting for something.

“I guess I love you too.” You were pulling his leg, you loved to see that look on his face where it seemed as though someone had stepped on his tail. Like a puppy who’s tail had been stepped on by mistake

“I don't even want to talk to you. Bye.” He snatched the empty glass, glaring at you now, you knew it was not with any sort of malice, you knew him. He turned around, purposefully stomping and then you couldn't stop the laughter.

You burst out in giggles, clutching your stomach, the headache subsiding.

You threw off the blanket and rushed after him, hugging him from behind, hands barely wrapping around his large frame but it did stop him. You placed your face sideways on his back.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I love you. Like surely. One hundred percent.” You said still chuckling, the grin on your face not faltering.

He wasn't even upset in the first place, because the moment he heard your laugh, his own grin formed widely on his face.

“You mean it?”

“I do. Always did. And will.”

And perhaps this was what it meant to be loved. And to love.

for my dearest @etherealyoungk ; THIS IS A VERY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY WIFE 🫂 ( blame that on the fact that this was totally not what I planned to write for ur birthday 😔) I love you so much and I can't believe we got close this soon <3 I wish I could have known you before because it feels like I know you since so long, you're literally my soulmate like??? i hope you have an amazing year ahead soo here is ur fave couple as a present mwahh (mine too lowkey)

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

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f1goat · 1 year ago

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more than friends ; lando norris + part four

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three

“Lan,” you shyly start your sentence, “when erm, when are we going to have sex?” You continue your question. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking your friend that question. Lando almost drops his phone when he hears your question. He sends you a confused look.

“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you with the same confused tone in his voice.

You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound really stupid,” you confess, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.”

“So?” Lando asks. He already feels his jealousy coming up. Someone asked you on a date? He wonders who asked you and if you said yes to the guy. Maybe Max was right and he should just ask you on a date himself. Maybe that would stop this mess.

“I kinda want to say yes,” you tell Lando nervously, “but I want to wait for when I’m not a virgin anymore.” Lando shoots you another confused look, he doesn’t get why that would help with the date. “I uh, think it’s better for my confidence,” you explain. You don’t mention that you want to make sure that Lando is the one who takes your virginity.

Lando stays silent for a couple minutes. He thinks about how he can handle this properly. His first choice would be to let you stall the date for like forever, but he knows that will only bite him in the ass. “How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you eventually. When you keep your silence to think, Lando adds a few more words. “I don’t think it’s smart to rush this,” he explains himself.

“I already told him that I’d be away for three weeks,” you reply, “so at least that time. And maybe I can add another week when we’re back, blaming it on a jet lag or something.”

Lando feels a bit more relieved. Three or four weeks. A lot can change in that time, right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his feelings for you. Maybe not. Probably not, now that he thinks of it. He has this feelings for you since forever and all those years weren’t enough for him to gain the confidence to tell you… He lets out a soft sigh, he needs to think of a plan.

“That’ll work I guess,” Lando says eventually.

“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”

“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we first need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in only an hour.”

“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando, “We’re leaving in an hour!”

“Oops?” Lando laughs.

You let out a sigh. It doesn’t even surprise you that Lando didn’t pack yet. “You never change,” you tell Lando with a small smile on your face. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff, just like you always do. It doesn’t take the two of you that long to pack all his stuff. Like always, you secretly put some shirts and short pants into Lando his luggage. He’s always to stubborn to pack anything else then hoodies, and that without checking the weather. Something you did for sure when you packed your own stuff, so you know for sure that he can use some clothes that’s more suitable for the hot weather.

“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after closing the last zipper from his suitcase. He moves closer to you and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are quick to press your lips against Lando his lips. Without giving it a second thought, you kiss Lando. You feel him smiling through the kiss. He pulls you closely to himself and wraps his arms around your body.

The kiss was meant innocent and short, but Lando is quick to turn it into something more. His hands are roaming over your body. It doesn’t take him long before finding your ass and giving it a couple squeezes. You let out a soft moan. You feel it vibrate against Lando his lips.

Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you’re doing. You watch how he picks his phone up and say a simple okay after a few seconds of listening. “The cab is here,” he informs you, you reply with a small nod. Lando grabs his luggage and as much of yours as he can manage. Leaving you to only hold two small bags with your own stuff.

“You know, you’re a great kisser,” Lando says while walking towards the cab.

“I learned from the best,” you joke with an innocent smile.

Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be with everything else with such a good teacher,” he continues to joke.

“We’ll see.”

+++

Lando sighs when he takes place in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say to him. He just lost a great qualifying lap due to track limits. If he didn’t lose the lap, he would have started second tomorrow. You are pretty sure that Lando is really mad at himself right now. He always is. Whenever something doesn’t go perfect, he’s blaming himself for it. Right now Lando is softly muttering to himself. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but you guess it’s something in the line of him calling himself an idiot and a bad driver. It makes you feel hurt. You have been here for a lot of his highs and lows since he has his seat with McLaren. You have seen him upset with himself many times before, but it never hurts less.

“Lan,” you softly say, hoping for a response. He doesn’t even look at you while responding. “Don’t say it’s not my fault,” Lando states, “I’m the one who get track limits. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who fucked up.”

You think about what to say, but you know that a lot of you guesses aren’t the right one. You can say so many things to Lando about he will do better tomorrow and that he’s still starting in the top ten, but it’s not what he wants to hear right now. Eventually you decide to throw it on a whole other subject.

“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You suggests.

Lando looks up and stares at you. “Cheer me up?” He asks confused.

“Distract you a bit,” you continue shyly.

“What do you mean babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.

“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”

“You don’t have to,” Lando quickly says, “I didn’t even went down on you yet.”

“I want to,” you reply to him, “and I think it will do a great job with cheering you up.”

“Sure?” Lando asks a bit confused. You nod. “Words babygirl,” Lando reminds you about his need for you to say everything out loud. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando his facial expressions are quick to brighten up. He’s already smiling while thinking about your lips around his dick. It even causes his dick to get hard already.

“But, you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. He nods eagerly. Then he grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boner. You don’t wait for another instruction and start to palm his boner through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a while, enjoying your slow movements in peace. When you apply a bit more pressure, the first soft moan leaves his lips. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his cheek.

After a few minutes of moving slowly with your hand on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when he feels your hand on his dick. He wants nothing more then to feel your skin on his own. He needs to lose the suit. Without thinking about it Lando pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It’s almost unfair how good Lando is looking. Since when does his fireproof so much to you?

“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you.

“Yes please,” you are eager to answer.

You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins because of your reaction. He kicks off his shoes and then removes his suit from his body. It feels so strange to see Lando standing in front of you in only his underwear, but then you remember that he’ll lose those in a few seconds too.

Before Lando can pull of his briefs, you move your lips against his bare chest. Softly you press multiple kisses against his chest. Slowly you move down towards his boxers. In the mean time you still have his boner in your hands. You stroke him softly. When you reach the edge with your mouth, you stop with stroking. Slowly you pull down Lando his boxers. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando finishes your action and takes his boxers off.

You take your time to look at his dick. It’s the first you see in real life. Of course you have seen some porn movies before, so you have a clear image from how a dick can look. But in a weird way, Lando his member seems more appealing to you. His member is pretty, if you can say it like that. You never thought you’d find a dick pretty. Lando looks at you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that’s laying on his dick. Now that you think about it, his whole boner seems to be at the thick side. Maybe it’s not as long as in the porn movies, but you already guesses that was a bit over the top. You wonder how Lando his thick member will fit inside your mouth and one day inside your vagina.

“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando tells you softly.

“No,” you quickly reply. “I want to do this, but you need to tell me what to do.”

Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to continue with this. He wasn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands back to Lando his dick. Lando feels himself hardening under your touch. Has he ever been this hard? You slowly explore his member with your hand. At first you trace the vein laying on top of it with one of your fingers. Then you softly touch his tip. You wait for Lando to say something.

“Lick it a bit,” Lando instructs you. You notice the change of his voice tone. “Make it wet,” he adds. He almost sounds strict. It gives you weird butterflies.

You take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you let your tongue come in contact with him. Slowly you lick around his member. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue.

“Put it into your mouth babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. He needs to make sure that his dick has been inside your mouth before he cums. All the teasing you’re doing - without even knowing it, is already making him close to getting his orgasm.

Again you do what Lando says. Carefully you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. Your mouth is quick to feel fulled up. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.

“Slowly baby,” Lando quickly says when he notices the tears as well, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”

You pull back for a bit. Letting his member out of your mouth. Before taking it back inside, you take a deep breath. You try to remember Lando his words. You make sure that the top of his boner is inside your mouth. It feels like you have room for a bit more, so carefully you take him a bit deeper into your mouth. You remind yourself to take your time. Lando his hands has found their way into your hair. Softly he plays with your hair. You lick a bit around his tip with your tongue. Lando rewards you with a moan. It makes you feel good, giddy even, when he reacts like that.

“Move your head up and down,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movement as before, but now with you mouth.”

Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando lets out another moan. You feel proud to be the reason behind those moans. You suck a bit harder onto his dick. Without giving it a second thought, you use your hand to hold the part that doesn’t fit into your mouth. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth.

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “You’re really good at this.”

His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel the way his dick is pulsing inside your mouth.

“If you don’t want to taste, you should finish it with your hands,” Lando says after a while. You don’t act on his words. Simply you keep continuing your earlier movements.

Lando can’t stop looking at you while feeling this close to his orgasm. He is still holding your hair in his hands, softly he tugs onto it for a bit. The way you stare at his dick while you’re making him feel like this, turns him on even more. There have been enough girls who have given him a blowjob, but none of them felt like this. He can’t understand how it is possible that you’re so good at everything already. How can it be that someone with no sexual experience is so much better then everyone else? It’s insane.

“Last warning baby,” Lando warns you with a soft voice. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. If he didn’t said anything, you still could have guessed that he’s close to his orgasm. His moans are giving it away. They are becoming more messier and louder with the second. You try to take his dick even further into your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You’re quick to connect the dots and realize what just happened. Lando just came undone.

You decrease your pace, but still keep sucking him off. There are a couple more drops of Lando his cum that are finding their way inside of your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty, you remove your mouth from him. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum.

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “I could cum again by looking at you doing that.”

You show Lando a small innocent smile. He pulls you onto himself. “Don’t look that innocent baby, not after what you just did,” he tells you. You can’t react to him. He is presses a soft kiss against your cheek before doing the same against your lips.

“If I told you that this was the best blowjob of my life, would you believe me?” Lando asks you after a bit of a comfortable silence.

“No,” you reply while shaking your head.

“You just did babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I have never experienced a blowjob this good.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that says something about the other blowjobs you have gotten,” you say.

“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re incredibly good at this baby. And you did find an excellent way to distract me from stupid qualifying lap.”

You laugh. “I’ll remember that for the next time,” you say jokingly. Lando laughs and nods eagerly. “But don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan. Everyone can make mistakes. I’m sure you’ll be fighting for great points tomorrow, I even dare to say that you’ll end up on the podium,” you tell Lando.

“If I get a podium, I’m celebrating with eating you out,” Lando states confidently.

“That’s not a celebration,” you laugh.

“It is for me.”

Fuck, why is you stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This really can’t be good.

+++

Later that evening Lando and you are sitting in a small restaurant together. He’s sitting next to you, together you’re pressed up closely on a small couch. Oscar and Lily are sitting in front of you. Lando is getting more annoying with the second, he has hunger and absolutely no patience for his food to come. He already toyed with everything on the table and now it’s your turn apparently.

Lando his hand finds your upper thigh. You almost jump up. He toys with the short skirt you’re wearing. When you feel his hand getting closer to your private parts, you stop him with you own hand. What is he doing? Lando is quick to find his way back to your thigh and squeezes it softly. You can’t help yourself and let out a soft whimper.

“You okay Y/N?” Lily asks you.

You send Lando an angry look before answering Oscars girlfriend. “Yeah, just hungry,” you tell her jokingly. It’s enough for Lando to give you a bit more space. He moves himself a bit more away from you. When you feel his hand leave your upper leg, you’re quick to take action. Within milliseconds you have his hand in your own and guide it back towards your thigh. With one stern look you hope he will behave himself.

Before Lando can do anything stupid, the food is already arriving to your table. Quietly everyone takes their time to eat. Lando - who had a lot of hunger before, is the first one to finish. Meaning he is keeping up the conversations with Oscar, but also has his hands free again. While he talks to Oscar he lets his hand find it’s way back to your leg.

At first you don’t give it any attention. But when you feel Lando his hand getting under your skirt and his fingers grace against your clothed pussy, you can’t help yourself anymore. You almost choke in a piece of your meal. Loudly you cough. Lando plays the worried friend and hands you your drink, while his other hand is still coming closer towards your private parts then before. You cough another few times, before standing up and announcing that you’re going to the bathroom.

“You’re quite touchy,” Oscar mentions when you walk away. Lando gives his teammate and friend a confused look. It can’t be that Oscar noticed what he did, right? “You’re never this close to Y/N,” Oscar continues, “Are you two finally dating?”

Lando laughs. Why does everyone think the two of you are dating? He wish it was like that. To answer Oscar he shakes his head and tells him no, “Still friends.”

“Sure about that?” Oscar asks his friend. Lando notices the way Lily is also looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“I think I would notice it if I were dating with her, don’t you think?” Lando jokes a bit. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and decides to look at it. He’s quick to notice a message coming from you.

Y/N: i hate you

Lando: you hate me?

Y/N: you made me horny

Lando doesn’t even notice that Oscar is talking to him, until Oscar says his name a couple times. “Then you must have gotten text messages from someone you’re dating with,” Oscar sighs. Lando sends him a confused look, “No, it’s Y/N,” he says even confused. Then he realizes that it probably wasn’t smart to say that you’re texting him. “She isn’t feeling well,” he quickly adds.

Lando: come back here, I told them you’re not feeling well

Lando: we can go back to the hotel right away

Lando: and then I might help you with your problem ;)

Y/N: you better help me with the problem you caused.

Lando smiles at his phone again.

Not even twenty minutes later Lando and you are back at the hotel room you share together. Lando is pressed up against you. Something that happens quite a lot lately. His hands have found their way back to your thigh. You can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft whimper.

“You’re the worst,” you softly say the Lando.

“The worst?” He asks you, “I think I’m the one who makes you feel the best you’ve ever done.”

You can’t argue with that logic from him. Lando his hand is coming closer to where you want him the most right now. Teasingly he drags his finger over your panties a couple time. When you almost make another remark about him teasing you, Lando pulls your string aside.

“I want to taste you,” Lando groans. He feels the wetness that he caused earlier. When he looks at you, he’s surprised to see you shake your head. Are you telling him no? “No?” He asks a bit confused.

“First a podium,” you tell Lando teasingly.

He lets out a grunt.

“You wanted to celebrate like that,” you remind Lando, “so earn it tomorrow with a podium.”

Lando can’t help it and lets out a soft whine. “You’re the worst,” he repeats your earlier words to you. You don’t reply verbally, you just show Lando a innocent smile. It surprises you when Lando lets his finger enter you. You almost expected that he wasn’t going to continue as payback. His sudden movement cause you to let out a moan.

When he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit, it doesn’t take you long to come close to your orgasm. “I’m close,” you tell Lando.

“How close?” He asks you.

“Really close,” you confess.

“Ask for my permission,” Lando instructs you, “I won’t let you cum without it.”

You don’t even think about his words. Before you realize it, pleas are coming from your lips. Begging Lando to make you cum. “Please Lan,” you beg. Lando has a smug smile plastered on his face. He’s enjoying this way too much. He feels you whimpering underneath his touch. “Please,” you beg him again, “Make me cum.”

“Cum babygirl,” he tells you eventually. He increases his pace and adds another finger into your pussy. It causes you to release everything within seconds. With a trail of moans you come undone. Lando removes his fingers and pulls you closer. He puts his fingers inside his mouth to suck them clean.

“Now I really have to get a podium tomorrow,” he tells you a bit jokingly. You send him a confused look, still not getting his wish to eat you out. “This taste is already doing things to me,” Lando continues, “and I can’t wait to get addicted to it properly.”

part five

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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marasmadness · 6 months ago

Text

You Were Never Not Mine

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader x Elle Greenaway

KINKTOBER FIC #2 (thank you for bearing with me)

Based on request for Emily & Elle x brat!reader with gags and vibrators.

CW: dom!Emily x switch!Elle x sub!femreader, punishment, brat taming, alcohol, vibrators, gags, cockwarming, spanking, dumbification, pet names, age gap, glimpses and hints of aftercare

Elle spun around in her chair, sensing you lingering in the doorway of her home office almost instantly. She crossed her legs and looked up at you through her painted mascara-painted lashes. “You want something.”

You sauntered in, leaning against her desk, still covered in work. ”Nope, just came in to say hello. Whatcha working on?”

She closed her laptop slightly, resting her elbows on the wooden desktop. “Prepping for an upcoming trial.” She waved her hand at the stacks of old court cases and other papers strewn across her desk. You wandered over toward her bookshelf, running your fingers across the shelves. Both Emily and Elle had offices in the house, but Elle worked in hers much more frequently, while Emily preferred to spend late nights at the office.

Elle’s style presented itself through her office. Awards littered the top shelf, and old law school textbooks were lined up across the bottom. She had a handful of pictures of herself beside you, Emily, or both. Her degrees were framed behind her desk, and on the opposite wall hung a wide variety of feminist figure posters. All her casework cluttered a good portion of her office but was neatly stacked, and she could find any paper she was looking for within a minute. She kept a singular fake plant on her desk, a gift from you since neither she nor Emily could keep a plant alive to save their lives.

“I have an idea,” you announced, circling back to right beside Elle. “How about we go out tonight?” You bit your bottom lip, swinging your legs back and forth as you sat on the armrest of her chair.

Elle gave you a look, scoffing playfully. “There's no way that’s happening after last weekend. Also, we cannot be out at a club or bar every single weekend. Not all of us are 23.”

“Oh, come on, neither of you look a day over 23.” You teased cheekily, sliding off the edge of the chair to straddle Elle’s lap.

She grabbed your hips forcefully, tugging your legs tighter around her waist. “Oh, really? Emily’s gray hair begs to differ. And I’m pretty sure most of her newest silver threads are from trying to rein you in last weekend."

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad. We had fun!”

“Mhm, I’m sure Emily thought so too. With having to carry you to the car after you were so drunk, you were insisting that you couldn’t leave with us because you were waiting for your girlfriend to pick you up... The man next to us was ready to call the cops.”

“Minor error on my part, but that’s why we don’t have to tell her! She will most likely be locked up in her office tonight, and she’ll believe you if you tell her we’re going to run a quick errand, Ta-da! Problem solved.

Elle laughed, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip as her chin dropped toward her chest. “Deal, go get dressed; just don’t walk by Emily’s office wearing a skintight dress, or I have a feeling the profiler might just be able to conclude that we’re not going grocery shopping.” She tapped two fingers against your waist, and you scrambled off her, hurriedly exiting the office. Elle tidied up her desk and headed toward the guest room that mostly acted as her girlfriend's office.

…

Elle was waiting for you down by the car, leaning against the driver's side door as she swung the ring of keys around her finger. “You look hot,” she murmured, snaking her hand around your waist as she sauntered around the car to open the passenger side door.

“Why thank you?" You were cut off when her lips roughly messed with yours, her hands on your waist pressing you back against the car. Elle’s hands blindly searched for the handle behind you as her tongue explored the edge of your mouth. Tugging it open, her grip tightened around your body, keeping you attached to the hip before you climbed in.

You usually frequented the same few places, staying within ten minutes of your house in D.C. and preferring familiar atmospheres. Elle placed her hand on your lower back as she guided you out of the brisk cold. A warm rush of heat hit you as you entered and your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. “Over there, open stools on the left,” she murmured in your ear, centimeters close so that you could hear her over the noise. You weaved through the clusters of people, keeping your focus tuned to where you were headed and not the faces of nearby strangers. You sat down with an excited breath of relief and turned to face Elle as she sat down to your left.

Two drinks appeared in front of you, almost like magic. It was more ominous when you realized it was both the exact drinks you and Elle ordered and that they had to have been mixed before you had even walked in.

The bartender was already half a step away from you but gestured toward the opposite end of the bar. A woman in the last seat in a suit sent them. You tipped your head out around the row of people, curious to spot the woman. Your heart dropped out of surprise, seeing a familiar face. Elle’s chin was tucked toward her chest, a shadow hiding a mischievous grin.

Emily got up slowly, sauntering over toward you. "Hi, babe,” she kissed Elle on the cheek before leaning on the bartop between you. She reached over your shoulder, her breath tickling your skin. Grabbing the stem of your drink glass, she brought the rim to your lips, tilting your chin with two fingers. You took a sip, still frozen in place, as you tried to figure out what was going on.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She leaned in to whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as she pulled away. Elle was in my office within three seconds after you stepped out of hers. It was a cute attempt though. Just don’t try it with a profiler and lawyer.”

Elle raised her glass in Emily’s direction with a chuckle. "Em, I'm thinking she didn’t really care that much if we went out. She just wanted attention. And the best way she could think of to get that was to act like a brat.” Elle cocked her head, studying your reaction, which only told her she had been right.

Emily slid herself off her stool, black heels clicking against the sticky floor beneath her. Snaking an arm around your waist, she guided you up, taking the opportunity to speak teasingly in your ear. “If you wanted us to fuck you doll, all you had to do was ask.” She straightened up without batting an eye. “Alright then, are we ready to go?”

You were hesitant to leave, but Emily’s hand on your lower back steered you in the direction of the door and back out to Elle’s car. The entire car ride was defined by anticipation that felt like teeth sinking into your neck. Emily had grabbed your hand as she entered your apartment, leading you straight to her office. “Sit,” she gestured toward a swivel chair that sat beside her desk. She left the room briefly, quickly returning to toss her jacket over the edge of her chair.

Emily raised an eyebrow at the soft smile you couldn’t keep off your face. “Don’t think you’re getting what you want. Now Elle and I still have work to get done tonight after your little stunt.” Her fingers grasped at the hem of your dress, yanking it up over your head. You shivered as our bare skin pressed against the cold leather of the chair. “Doesn’t mean we can’t entertain ourselves though.” She slipped two fingers beneath the waistband of your lace panties, biting her lip as she tugged the almost see-through fabric down slightly.

You gasped at a new sensation as her opposite hand slipped down to your pussy. The familiar feeling of Emily’s favorite vibrating egg pressed against your clit made your thighs clench. Your breath caught in your throat as Emily’s head dropped between your legs, pressing a taunting kiss to the growing damp spot on your panties before she adjusted the vibrator to a more jolting angle through the fabric.

A soft whimper left your lips as Emily returned to sit at her desk, picking up her phone. You watched curiously as she tapped away, only getting your answer to watch what she was doing when you gasped at the sudden vibrations that she had turned on. You gripped the arms of the chair tightly, trying to stay still. Emily watched you out of the corner of her eye as she started typing on her laptop. The only sign that she was still paying attention to you was the small smirk that had settled on her face.

Every few minutes Emily’s hand swept down to her phone to adjust the level, enjoying the way your teeth sank into your lip to stay quiet. “Shhh,” she stated quietly, lowering the glasses perched on her head down onto her nose. You tried to turn your attention toward her as a distraction, which was a foolish idea. The dark veins in her hand flexed against her mouse as she scrolled through pages of reports. Every few seconds, her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip, or she ran her hands through her hair with a soft sigh.

You were too quickly relieved when Emily stood up, shrugging her blazer off her shoulders into the chair behind her. She tugged on the black silk tie that hung loosely around her neck, pulling it over her head. “Emily please…”

She shook her head with a laugh. “This is a punishment baby. And I need to focus.” Bending down in front of you, she wrapped the tie around your head, gagging your mouth, muffling all sounds. The steady stimulation had become slightly less pleasurable and more of a sting. Every time you came close to coming, you grew slightly quieter in hopes that your desperation would go unnoticed. It never did. Emily continuously stopped the vibrator, letting you groan, then catch your breath before it was buzzing right against your clit again. The tie in your mouth had become damp with drool from the corner of your mouth and slow tears of frustration that rolled down your cheeks.

After what felt like an eternity, Emily closed your laptop, focusing on you as she removed the gag from her mouth. She ran her thumb across your cheek, wiping up a tear.

Emily, please let me come; I’ll be good, promise.” Your voice was breathy and slightly whiny after being edged countless times.

“I know you will because you’ve learned that I like when you beg, but there’s two of us..." She held out her hand toward you, tilting her head across the hall toward Elle’s open office. Her spot behind her desk gave her a perfect view into Emily’s. Your legs were shaking as you stood, and Emily stopped you on the way out. “ Wait-” You turned around, instantly knowing what she wanted. Her palm was outstretched as you placed the panties you had been wearing in her hand, and she pocketed them. “Thank you,” she replied in a playful voice.

Elle smiled as you walked in. Her heels were kicked off underneath her desk, and she sat leisurely with her legs spread. “Come sit doll.” She tapped her thigh with two fingers, her eyes soaking in your naked body. You cautiously approached her with your hands clasped in front of you. She pulled you onto her chair like earlier, but the control you had felt was now lost as you straddled her, who was fully dressed, naked.

Her fingers closed around your wrist, guiding your hand down between her legs. You dragged your hand across the tent in the fabric of her trousers. She was already packing. With a shy tilt of your head, you leaned against her chest while playing with her zipper. “Can I?”

“Of course, love.” You eagerly unzipped her pants, releasing her thick black strap. Her hands gripped your hips tightly, stilling you. “Ah, patience. If I let you sit on my cock, you have to stay still while I finish things up.”

You pouted, draping your arms across her shoulders. “Why couldn’t you finish work while Emily was torturing me?”

Because watching you squirm was a lot more fun, and because you’re a brat.” She shot back, and she lowered your hips, moaning slightly as her cock sunk into your pussy. She left one hand resting on the warm skin of your back while she worked. Occasionally the sound of her typing would briefly cease, and her hand would softly grope your tits before you were feeling needy for her touch again. At one point you attempted to shift slightly, cunt already dripping. A sharp smack hit the flesh of your ass, sound resonating in the empty room. You yelped, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Okay love, all done.” She brought her hand to the back of your head, running her hands softly in your hair. You could’ve cried out in relief. She laughed lightly at the look on your face and gradually slid you off her strap. Picking you up, she wrapped your legs around her waist, carrying you out. “Little break and some rest, and then we can do whatever you want. If you still want to, we can go gentle.”

You nodded, knowing she could feel it against her shoulder. Emily appeared in front of you with a glass of water. ‘ Drink baby.”

#criminal minds #wlw smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway #kinktober #fypシ #fypツ

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