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pucksandpower · 7 months

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Brake Balance

Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader

Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser

Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder

You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.

You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.

There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” You say playfully.

Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”

You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”

“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”

His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.

Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.

Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.

The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.

“Be safe out there,” you say softly.

He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.

“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.

You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.

The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.

“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.

Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.

“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.

“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.

The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”

Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”

“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.

“Around 100 degrees.”

You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.

“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.

Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.

In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.

Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.

Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.

While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.

With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.

***

The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”

“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”

You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.

“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”

Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”

“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”

“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.

A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.

“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”

He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.

“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”

Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.

“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”

He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.

“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”

You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”

Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”

You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.

“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”

Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.

Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.

***

After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.

The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.

“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”

You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”

You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.

“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.

“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”

His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.

“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”

As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.

“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”

You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”

Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.

“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”

Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”

You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.

“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”

He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.

“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”

You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”

Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.

“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”

He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”

In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.

“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”

Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.

“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”

Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.

“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.

You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …

“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”

You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”

He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”

You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.

“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”

The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”

In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.

“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”

Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.

“It was ...”

He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.

“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.

“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.

“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”

Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.

“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”

The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.

Or so he thinks.

Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.

Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.

For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.

Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.

Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.

And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.

By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.

For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.

Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.

Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.

With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.

***

Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.

Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.

You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.

Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.

“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.

Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”

Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”

You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”

Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”

Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”

Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.

You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.

Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.

“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.

In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.

The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.

The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.

“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.

“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”

You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.

Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”

You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.

“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.

You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.

But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.

So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.

He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.

So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.

Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.

1K notes · View notes

formulawolff · 3 months

Text

"just one dance" - t.w.

pairing: horner's daughter!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.9k

warnings: toto lusting after a woman thirty years younger than him (what's new on this blog lmfao), sexual references, maybe some cursing (idrk), mentions of drug use, alcohol use, flirting, banter, yadayadayada

a/n: i played "here" by alessia cara like 20x on repeat while writing this fic. so we could say that this fic is veryyyyy loosely inspired by that song. also! this was a request by an anon! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"come on," the words as slurred as he rolls his eyes, "come dance with us!"

bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "max, for the last time, i am not joining the horny middle school grind circle you guys have going on over there."

"it's not a grind circle," he puts his hands on his hips, "i would say it's more like a mosh pit."

which, given the occasion, was not quite appropriate either.

at the moment, you were perched at one of the many elegant banquet tables, the rigid surfaced draped with a thick, cream-colored tablecloth. adorning the table were numerous vases, filled to the brim with floral arrangements, their fragrance oh so sickeningly sweet.

the plates, utensils, and other various dining ware were now cleared, only leaving numerous wine glasses, their crystalline stems glimmering in the dim light, swathed by the golden hue of the chandeliers as they sparkle above.

this was the annual fia prize gala, one of the most coveted events of the season. it was the showcasing and peacocking of sheer and utter wealth, as the drivers got to pull up to in their luxury vehicles, their keys handed off to the valets. every individual was dressed head to toe in designer clothing from nearly every brand possible, from christian dior to saint laurent.

you lost track of the amount of rolex watches, cartier jewelry, and hermès bags you noticed throughout the course of the evening.

the main event wrapped up hours ago, leaving the rest of the night for the drivers, crew members, mechanics, engineers, executives, and team principals to mingle and dance. and well, consume copious amounts of alcohol.

and well, perhaps do a few lines in the restroom. or light a joint outside. maybe even pop a few pills.

with the exuberant amounts of cash involved with events like this, there were surely some illicit affairs. ones that the fia ignored, simply turning their heads.

if they didn't see it, it didn't happen.

after all, you were in monaco. it was like las vegas in a way.

what happened in monaco, stayed in monaco.

and here max verstappen was, three-time world champion, standing before you, so drunk he could barely walk, begging for you to come join him on the dance floor.

too bad your phone was almost dead.

this would have been a prime opportunity to record what was unfolding before you. it would have fed the max girlies all over instagram and tik tok for months.

glancing over max's shoulder, you pick out lando, oscar, charles, and carlos. they were apart of the large formation, jumping up and down, barreling into one another. alexandra, rebecca, and lily linger around the group, their gowns swishing as they laugh, their cheeks dusted with a bubblegum pink glow.

a drunken mosh pit with a bunch of sweaty men? no thank you.

but gossiping with the girls? that was more your speed.

"my dad would have a stroke if he caught me with you guys," you simply shrug, sipping on your wine, "and what if something happened to my dress? we have to return this, you know."

"ugh," the dutch driver groans, "you're no fun."

"hallo, max," a new voice cuts in, thick with an accent you can't quite place your finger on, "congratulations on your accomplishment this year!"

shifting in your chair is none other than torger christian wolff, better known as toto wolff, team prinicipal of mercedes.

your heart skips a beat as your eyes drink in the sight of him, the way his crisp tuxedo fit him effortlessly. his dark brunette hair was messy, more than likely from the events of the evening. his bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. the first few buttons of the snowy white dress shirt were undone, exposing his skin.

fuck, was he a gorgeous man.

with sharp cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and wide, beautiful coffee brown eyes, he knew that he was attractive, his aura brimmed with nothing but sexiness and dominance.

his hands land on the chair beside you, pulling it out as max rambles, the words drowning out in your ears.

you were more focused on his stature as he sits to your right, his thighs spread in the chair, a hand running through his hair.

"is there a reason why i haven't seen you on the dance floor?"

due to the excessive volume of the music, his mouth hovers by your ear. a shiver runs down your spine as his eyes lock with yours, lips forming a radiant smile, flashing his perfect pearlescent teeth.

"cat got your tongue? or are you just as intoxicated as maxie boy over there?"

"neither," you counter, straightening in your chair, "just not really interested, that's all."

"did daddy not give his precious diamond any dance lessons growing up?"

your father was none other than christian horner, team principal of red bull racing, sworn enemy of toto wolff.

quickly, your eyes scan your surroundings, in an attempt to pick out your father among the throng of people. to your dismay, you cannot find him.

which, in this case, could be a good thing.

if he saw toto speaking to you? oh fuck. it would be game over. you'd probably be grounded at your big age of twenty-four years old. could parents even do that when you were an adult?

you didn't really want to find out.

yet, you couldn't turn down a few moments with the team principal.

after all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

why not seize it?

for most of your life, you obeyed every single one of your father's wishes. you maintained your distance from the red bull drivers, careful not to get too close. you stayed out of the spotlight, ensuring that no negative publicity ever came his way. as much as you yearned to get to know members of the mercedes team or crew, you shied away, maintaining the promise that you would never befriend a rival.

so, for this one night, you could be a little selfish.

just this once.

even if it involved your father's biggest foe. the bane of his existence. the man he spoked about so bitterly for years on end.

"i was offered dance lessons, actually," your voice is melodic, like an angel's from the heavens above, "i turned them down. opted for horseback riding instead."

"so you know how to ride?" the team principal runs a tongue along his lower lip, his brow slightly raised, "well, i have an offer for you. one dance with me, and then later you can show me how well you can ride."

"and what am i going to be riding?" you inquire, folding your arms across your chest.

the corners of his lips curl into a devious smirk, an emotion glinting within the mocha depths as he leans in, "my cock."

heat flourishes into your cheeks, seeping all throughout your body. as your mind scrambles, struggling to formulate some sort of witty response, the team principal nods, "not expecting that, were you? i like seeing you like this, all flustered. it's cute."

"y-you're ridiculous," you manage to sputter out, hands instinctively shielding your face.

"not as ridiculous as any of those fools," his head motions towards the group of rambunctious drivers, "tell me, why aren't you with any of them? i'm sure maxie boy would love to take you on a date. lando too."

"just not interested," you shrug, regaining your confidence a tad, "don't get me wrong, they've asked. but i've always just turned them down."

toto cocks his head, his voice laced with a tease, "why? scared daddy is going to ground you for dating a driver?"

"i just rather wouldn't be involved with anyone of them romantically," you wave a hand, "it'd be too awkward if things didn't end up working out. could you imagine having to spend so much time at the paddock with someone who your dad could fire at any given moment? it'd be like walking on eggshells. i'd feel bad for any poor soul who wants to court me. they'd constantly be seeking my father's approval, on and off the track."

"well it's a good thing that i already know where i stand," toto shoots you a wink, your heart thudding against your rib-cage as he offers you his hand, "come on, just one dance. that's all i ask of you, gorgeous girl. one dance and then you can come right back over here, spending the rest of your night sulking in the corner."

"i haven't been sulking," you snort, accepting the gesture, "i've just been bored."

"how about you accept the other half of my offer then?" his accent is prominent, lingering in every word, "i've just been flirting, you don't really have to ride me. unless you know, you want to-"

"are you forgetting that we're in a very public space?" you hiss, elbow interlocked with his as you make your way to the dance floor, "people can probably hear you."

"good thing we're all drunk," he responds, the casual delivery sending you spiraling, "here, place your hand on my shoulder. i'll take this hand. the other will go on your waist."

as you follow his lead, you can't help but feel the pairs of eyes fixate on the two of you, murmurs rising above the music. yet, toto's focus is honed in on you, and only you.

"don't worry about them," he takes a step forward, your feet following in suit, "they're probably just envious that i'm with the most coveted woman in all of formula one."

"you don't mean that."

"oh schatzi," a chuckle rumbles in his chest, flowing from his lips, "do you not hear the things they say about you among the paddocks?"

"enlighten me then," your heart swells as his thumb tenderly kneads into your waist, fingers interlocking with yours.

his mouth is merely centimeters away from yours now, dimples apparent as his eyes glitter like the chandeliers above, "there's whispers that you are the most breathtaking woman in the world. the drivers talk about you all of the time, debating who would look the best by your side. you're a hot commodity. a prize to be won."

"people say those things about me?"

"would i ever lie to you?" toto arched a brow, "i have no reason to."

"that is true."

there's a twinge of resentment that bubbles up in your stomach as the song ends. oh how this moment ended too soon.

way too soon.

"still no sign of your father," toto's voice is hushed, barely audible over the music, "you think i could have you for just one more song? after that, i promise i'll leave you be."

"i think so," you feel a smile form the moment he pulls you in closer, the space between you crumbling away, "careful, mr. wolff. you need to maintain some sort of distance between us, remember?"

he shakes his head, fingers squeezing your waist, "right now, i could give any fucks what your father would think. he's lucky that i have some sort of self-control."

"and why is that?" you press, blood roaring in your ears as his head lowers, situated by your ear.

"because it is taking everything within me to keep myself from getting on my knees right this instant and lifting up that gown of yours."

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula one #formula 1 #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #f1 #formula 1 x reader #toto wolff fanfiction #formula one x reader #formula one x female reader #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic

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ahmisydney · 2 years

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Certificate III in Light Vehicle Mechanical Technology

AUR30620 Certificate III in Light Vehicle Mechanical Technology practical course will put you on the path to becoming a qualified light vehicle mechanic.

#Certificate III in Light Vehicle Mechanical

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cozmiccass · 10 months

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ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ : sᴍᴜᴛ ☠︎︎

ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ!ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ!ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴsᴏɴ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴀɴ, sᴇᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : sᴜʙ/ᴅᴏᴍ ᴄᴏɴ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ғ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), sʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, sᴡᴇᴀᴛ, ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ, sᴘɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ғᴀᴄᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅɪᴄᴋ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ/ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ ɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ, ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ sᴀғᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ, sʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴇɢɢɪɴɢ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ, ᴀǫᴜɪɴᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇʀɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ/sᴋɪɴ ᴛᴏɴᴇ/ʟᴏᴏᴋs ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ : ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴇʟғ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ... ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛʟʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴀɴ ᴀʙsᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ sʟᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ. ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ sᴏʀʀʏ. ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴅᴏᴡɴʀɪɢʜᴛ ғɪʟᴛʜʏ. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴀɪᴅ : ᴛʜɪs ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴀғᴛs ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, sᴏ ɪ'ᴍ sᴏ sᴏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 7ᴋ

ᴄʀᴏss ᴘᴏsᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ : ᴄᴏᴢᴍɪᴄᴄᴀss

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

OF COURSE YOUR CAR had to break down on the hottest day of the year. this was just your luck and honestly, you were tired of it. you just wanted something to go right, just for once! it was bad enough that you found out you were cheated on, so you had to buy a whole "new" car because your ex took the vehicle you bought together. this new one was a piece of shit.

and he was an even bigger piece of shit.

you stood by your broken-down rust bucket on the side of a barely-traveled-on dirt road right outside of your hometown of hawkins, indiana in a cute, little pink dress and flats. your hair was a mess in its updo and you were dying of heat exhaustion. you just needed someone—anyone to drive by!

you were just about to give up, so you started walking towards town because at least then you knew you'd be in the cool air soon enough. you got about five feet from your vehicle before seeing a dark blue tow truck that you knew was none other than eddie munson's turning down the road. he was the town's best and most affordable mechanic and he just so happened to be incredibly dreamy. he was a bit of a trouble maker and you found that to be downright tempting.

eddie was about fourteen years older than you, but you still knew about what he was known for. things that he probably wouldn't even think about doing to you, but you sure hoped he did. just about every week for the past two years, you would see him at the grocery store or family video, both of you making polite conversation, even going as far as light flirting and (you didn't know, of course) eddie would ogle your figure every time you'd walk away, always thinking about what he'd do to that 'innocent' body of yours.

eddie's truck was nearing, so with desperation, you used your hand to flag the truck down and your knight in shining armor slowed down to a stop.

he rolled his window down on his passenger side and with that signature smile, he leaned over his middle console to talk to you, "well, hey there, sweetheart. what's going on?"

his hair was pulled back into a low-hanging ponytail and he had a wife-beater tank top on. if you hadn't already been sweating, you would've been at that holy sight.

"my damn car broke down!" you huffed, " is there any way you could give me a lift home, mr. munson? i'll pay you," your bottom lip popped out as you looked at him. eddie was trying his best not to get worked up over your politeness, let alone the state you were in. your sweet clothing made it hard for his mind to stay clean. damn, i'm a pervert, he thought.

eddie had a crush on you too, but it kind of made him feel like a creep, so he never acted on it... unless you made the first move, of course. there was always a loophole.

"d'ya want me to take a look? i won't charge ya," his eyes were squinting from the summer sun, sweat beads rolling down his handsome face from the short amount of time the heat was pooling into his cooled truck.

you nodded gratefully and eddie pulled the vehicle in front of yours and got out. you could really see him then; his blue coverall sleeves from work were tied around his waist, covered in oil and other car fluids and a dirty rag was hanging out of one of his pockets. he looked damn good and you tried to get a good eye-full without being caught.

"first lemme see if i can just..." the hood popped open with a grunt from him and he took a quick look inside. "yeah, this is gonna be a minute. i'll have to take it up to the shop, sweetheart. but i'll run ya cheap, i promise." his eyes wandered down your body and you felt the heat rise both to your face and down to your core. thank goodness you were already very red from the summer sun, but surely you'd tell on yourself in other ways. that much you were sure of.

you were just thankful eddie had been out there when he was and you've had that silly, little schoolgirl crush on him for years, so of course you agreed without hesitation and waited eagerly in his air-conditioned passenger seat. he was surprisingly quick to attach your vehicle to his and met you in the truck.

the ride was filled with sexual tension that you weren't sure if you were imagining or not. his muscular, tatted arm rested on the middle console, daring you to touch it, but you couldn't bring yourself to do such a thing. you felt like you barely knew him, but the temptation was there all the same.

when eddie pulled up to your house, he made sure to take your number down and told you he'd let you know if there was any development on fixing it. you hoped that wasn't the only reason why.

"or if you wanna come by the shop and see me, i'll be there," you couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat dangling in front of a ravenous lion with the way he looked you up and down. you could practically see the drool coming from his cynical smile.

you didn't want him to leave yet, so you did what any logical, slightly horny person would do in your situation: talk him into staying. you look up at him through heavy lashes, and your voice comes out just above a whisper, "so how much do you think this'll cost me, mr. munson?"

when you called him that, eddie could barely contain himself. the way your little voice trembled slightly as though you were a little scared of him, but he knew better. he had known of your little infatuation with him, so he figured he'd shoot his shot. to hell with that previous statement of you making the first move. you seemed too shy, he'd have to give you a little... push, just a bit of pressure to your soft and vulnerable exterior.

a chuckle rose from his chest sending shockwaves to your cunt, "well, i'm not sure of the whole problem yet, darlin', but i'm sure we can figure somethin' out."

eddie was coming onto you; you didn't have to be a genius to figure that out. your bottom lip found itself between your teeth as you leaned against his truck checking him out again, this time with every intent of getting caught.

thankfully, he wasn't shy and played right along.

"you oughta' invite me in so we can discuss payment options though," his head nodded towards your house and a cheshire grin spread across his face, traveling right up to his sparkling brown eyes.

usually, you'd never let someone you'd hardly known in your house so quickly, but eddie munson would be the exception every time. so with an innocent smile, you nodded; the condition of your shitty car was no longer a concern to you as you eagerly dragged him through your front door.

as soon as your feet hit the entryway of your home, eddie made it abundantly clear what his motives were. the door slammed shut with your back against it, a rough hand wrapped around your pretty little throat. a tingly sensation rose up your body like goosebumps, but better. you leaned into his grip with no shame, wetness forming in your panties.

"and here i thought you were this sweet lil' thing, always tempting me with those bright eyes and pretty smiles." eddie's hold on you tightened only slightly, causing you to let out a shaky moan and your eyes to flutter open. his eyes flicked down to your lips as he licked his own, "i'm glad i was wrong."

"oh, i'm still very sweet, sir." you teased, smiling at the pressure he added to your neck.

he laughed darkly, a villainous grumble rising out of him. "and i fully intend to find out just how sweet you are, or maybe i'll just leave you here: pathetic and deprived."

you pouted dramatically, but you knew you'd get what you wanted just as eddie did. with his big hand still secured on your neck, he took his thumb from his other hand and pulled at your bottom lip, "open." he was going out on a limb here and seeing just what all you would do for him. he learned very quickly that he wouldn't be disappointed one bit.

even though you had never been one to follow rules, you believed you would follow this man to the ends of the earth. so your mouth opened slightly, never once breaking eye contact with the handsome guy in front of you. his rugged appearance made you that much more eager to please.

"wider." he yanked your chin harshly and you complied, your tongue falling flat. you knew exactly what he was about to do. "that's a good fucking girl," an ornery grin appeared on that beautiful face of his and then he spat in your mouth. "that's right, now swallow."

you closed your mouth and the warm substance rolled down your tongue and down your throat. it tasted of spearmint and cigarettes; you didn't know what you were supposed to expect from someone's saliva, but it had you questioning your sanity. you wanted him to do it again. and again and again. so you swallowed, just as you were told. like a good girl, his good girl.

a little spit dribbled down the side of your mouth and you were quick to swipe it up and suck it off your own finger. you felt absolutely filthy; swallowing a man's spit before even kissing him? you ate that shit up.

"mmm, i'm going to have fun with you," he intently gazed in your eyes and rubbed your neck almost lovingly, but you knew better.

then, eddie hastily picked you up by your plush hips and set you on your perfectly white kitchen island behind him, placing himself between your soft thighs. your cotton panties were already seeping.

"at any point during this, just say 'mercy' and i'll stop or change things up, okay? i want you to feel comfortable with me." your eyes widened as you just realized what you'd gotten yourself into. he slowly dragged a long calloused finger from the collar of your dress to the very end of the feeble fabric. his hand hovered near your core and he could feel the delicious heat radiating off of it.

you nodded your head hastily as you watched him, incredibly worked up. you just needed a little bit of friction.

"and if i'm gonna do anything, i need your words, okay? you're a big girl, right?" you nod your head again already too fucked out without him even doing anything.

"ah, ah." he turned to your sink to wash his hands before he defiled you. eddie munson might've been a pervert, but he wasn't gross.

"yes. i understand. words, mr. munson." your cheeks turn a bright shade of red. this was all very new to you, but you couldn't get enough of it. everyone always treated you as this meek, innocent person and you were not that at all. not really. you were thrilled it was eddie that got to find out firsthand.

"good girl, i'm gonna start touching you now, yeah?" his words came out breathy as he leaned back into your body.

"yeah," you nearly moaned.

eddie raised your dress above your head in one swift movement leaving you completely exposed minus the thing he wanted most. his index finger met the crotch of your underwear and moved them to the side. your core was throbbing in anticipation when he finally took two of his fingers through your slick, a quiet mewl leaving your mouth. his digits were covered in your arousal, so he brought them up to your mouth and you took them without him even asking. eddie reveled in this, a gruff moan escaping him as he watched you closely.

your tongue swirled around his fingers before sliding your mouth from his hand. you leaned back, elbows supporting your shivering body, legs thrown over eddie's strong shoulders.

"fuck, so needy, baby." another moan left your lips as eddie bit your shoulder before sending his two most middle fingers into you. they were precise and careful, knowing exactly what areas needed to be touched and how much pressure to put on your spongey spot. the curl of his digits was heavenly; stars clouding your vision along with a few tears from the intensity.

after a mere two minutes, you couldn't believe you were about to cum, "i-i.."

"shh, i know." his thumb joined in at the tip top of your cunt, circling that sensitive little nub with vigor. you came with a spasm of your entire body, legs shaking, your body nearly flailing off of the counter, a salacious scream leaving your sweet lips. "you did such a good job for me,"

eddie set your legs down with a smirk, "i need you to wrap your arms and legs around me, sweetheart." and so you did very obediently, your clothed cunt rubbed against the rough fabric of his clothing making you all the more hungry. he asked what direction your bedroom was in before taking you there with urgency; your heart pounded the closer he got.

this was actually happening and you couldn't believe it. all those years of pining after and dreaming of eddie munson, he was about to take you however he saw fit and you were going to let him.

he placed you on the bed and you started to lean up to kiss him, but stopped you with a hand to the top of your head, pushing you down, "ah ah ah, down. on your knees for me, baby." his gruff voice melted you down to your bare knees fully accepting the carpet burn soon to come.

you knelt in front of the beautiful man, gazing up at him like he had put all of the stars in the sky. just the thought of his dick in your mouth made your poor pussy quiver and your mouth water. your hands reached for his coveralls eagerly, dragging them down his legs to reveal his erection secured loosely in his boxers. blue plaid. cute.

for someone who acted like he was in control, eddie sure was fucking losing it on the inside. seeing you all lovely and disheveled underneath him without his cock even being inside you made his ego way bigger than it should have been. he roughly ran his ringed hand through his unruly hair that wasn't in a ponytail anymore, looking up at your ceiling so he didn't bust right then and there.

your lips were pouty, skin glistening from the sweat, and god, he just wanted to fuck you up. make you forget your own name, forget his name even. he wanted to make you a puddle on the bed when he was done with you.

you took his boxers down to his ankles too and eddie stepped out of them in all his luster. a slight gasp came from your lips at the sight of him; pink, pretty and big. wasting no time at all, your mouth attached to his leaking tip. a slight swirl of your tongue and eddie had your hair in his hands, guiding your head down, down, down until he hit the back of your throat and groaned the most beautiful, guttural moan you've ever heard from a man.

"fuck, sweetheart, i just might have to make you mine if you keep taking me like the dirty little thing you are." he pulls you back and slams his cock into your throat, drool spilling from your pretty mouth. your humming only guaranteed his thrusts he started, the vibration encouraging him.

you wanted to be his so bad, you would gladly do anything he asked of you if it meant he'd keep you. just at the thought, one of your hands found its way to your clit and you couldn't help it, you had to have some sort of release.

he was salty from a hard day's work, but it made him even sweeter to you. you bobbed your head up and down, your nails were digging into his thighs as his rammed himself in and out. both of your hands came up to accompany your slick mouth, pumping his perfect dick. something about two hands on his cock made him come undone.

"oh sh-shit," you feel him throbbing and twitching and you take him out of your mouth, his white, hot ropes spilling all over your mouth, face and chest.

with your finger, you scooped up some from your cheek into your mouth, "mmm, so sweet, mr. munson."

eddie let out a staggered breath, "you dirty thing, you like my cum all over those pretty tits?" you nod. "yeah? i bet you like it in your mouth even more, huh? go ahead, lick it all up for me."

your hand sultrily dragged through the sticky substance, chest heaving from the filthy things you knew you were going to do. it dripped down your hand as your tongue lapped it up, making sure you were watching his reactions the entire time, those big brown eyes observing you so carefully, mouth agape, practically drooling himself.

you were so beautiful like this, on your knees, covered in his cum.

"i want you to take it all, slut." his bottom lip was between his teeth and you moaned. "are you my slut, baby?"

you nodded earning a firm slap in the face from him. the sting was bittersweet and you knew a handprint was sure to form, but you were more than okay with that.

"what did i tell you about using your words?" eddie's eyes grew dark, making you shiver in both excitement and fear. "try again. are you my slut?"

"yes, eddie, i'm your slut. i really am, i promise," your bottom lip stuck out at him, trembling. "i wanna have you inside me, all of you." you made intimate eye contact with his weeping slit. such a pretty cock.

a low snicker rose out of him, "not until you're all clean. can't have too dirty of a girl, can we?"

"no sir," you shook your head quickly. you licked up pretty much every drop of that yummy, gooey stuff before eddie decided to let you up off of your now carpet-burned knees with a harsh yank of your hair.

"such a good listener, aren't we? think i should reward you?" eddie threw you onto your bed on your back, a pathetic whimper coming from you.

"i've been so good, please."

"awe, and so respectful." he cooed and crawled over to you on his hands and knees, truly looking like a lion with that wild mane. you were his prey and you were honored. never have you been so infatuated with anyone, let alone a male, but damn, he had a way about him.

eddie sunk down to his elbows to kiss your bare thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin causing goosebumps. with one sudden movement, he brought the back of your thighs flush to his shoulders again. only this time, he was going to use more than his hands.

eddie slowly took your panties down and off, flinging them somewhere long forgotten. he kisses up your thigh, right on a sensitive spot. you twitch because of the sensation; you had no idea you'd be so sensitive, but he had a hunch. he looked at you as a smirk crept upon his face.

if you weren't in such a compromising position, you'd smack that smug look right off his pretty face... but you were, so you just loved in it. his bouncy curls tickling the inside of your thighs, plush lips like clouds gracing your skin, rough fingers drilling into the squishy cellulite. you could live and die here.

well, maybe not before you got to feel eddie's cock burying inside you.

eddie came face to face with your pretty opening and blew lightly, the warm air earning a yelp from you. "you're already soaked, baby, did you get off making me cum? hmm?" a whine escaped you and he ran his finger through your folds. "you didn't even ask, did you? naughty girl."

truthfully, you hadn't even noticed, you were so preoccupied with making sure he felt as good as he made you feel, that it was even a surprise to you.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to... i just—please touch me, eddie," your legs slightly tightened around his neck.

thankfully for you, eddie was feeling generous tonight, so without another word, he took that lengthy tongue to your cunt. if you thought his fingers felt good, you weren't even close to prepared for the talent that man had when it came to his mouth. a flat stripe down the middle made you moan out before he took your clit into his mouth and sucked. not too hard, but not too soft. he flicked it around, side to side, watching your every facial expression. eddie wanted you to remember this for the rest of your life and damnit, you knew you were.

"you taste so fucking good, you know that?" your head fell back into your pillow dramatically when he licked his lips.

as he worked his tongue through your folds and up into your soaked pussy, your hands found a home in his curls, using them as reigns. a gruff sound came from eddie, making his nose bury deep into your clit and just... thank god for big noses.

eddie's face shook from side to side like a ravaged dog, your juices slinging all over his face. with another pressurized lick all the way up to your clit, he let go of your right thigh and brought two fingers to his mouth. the same two he used earlier that were still just slightly pruned.

a pop echoed through the room when he took them out of his mouth, "i'm going to absolutely ruin you, baby." the look in his dark eyes made your breath hitch in your throat, but his fingers in your cunt had you back to breathing heavy in no time at all.

with his fingers now inside you, eddie brings his saturated mouth back to your clit. circles and little figure eights, maybe even his name? whatever he was doing was working wonders. his non-dominant hand came around your legs to press onto your tummy somehow speeding up your orgasm faster than you had anticipated. the build up ever growing until you couldn't take it anymore.

"fuck, eddie. fuck! please, please, i wanna cum so bad," you were surprised you could even form a coherent sentence with how fucked out you'd become.

"do ya? do you wanna come, pretty girl?" he stopped giving your clit attention to look up at you. "do you deserve it, hmm?"

you felt like you could cry and you almost did. spite is what kept you going because you were a fucking brat.

"i do, i-i deserve it." the words came out breathlessly, barely audible to him, so he bit the inside of your thigh. hard. "ow!"

"i can't hear you, i need you to beg me. beg me for that sweet release, sweetheart. i know you can do it for me." the taunting was almost unbearable, almost, but it turned you on even more with his lips mockingly pouting and captivating eyes blinking up at you. he moved his fingers achingly slow along your g-spot as he watched your legs tremble on either side of him.

you were embarrassed, but you just wanted him inside you and if that meant pleading with him, you'd sure as hell do it.

"please, eddie... i'm begging you, make me cum, i need it, i need you." you were so overstimulated that tears were welling up in your desperate eyes and eddie was losing his mind again. he dove back into your clit with his unforgiving tongue lapping you up. his fingers pumped in and out, curling at the most divine speed and angle. you were floating.

you could feel the dam nearing its inevitable burst, a hot sensation coming from deep inside you begging to be set free. just as suddenly, it broke. you knew you were making a mess, but your body had gone limp long before your orgasm. how you were going to be any fun going further was beyond you.

a scream so pornographic left those satiable lips of yours. you felt yourself dripping down your things, but then you looked up at eddie... like an angel, he glistened with your sweet release, a devilish grin upon that sexy face of his. you could easily cum again at the sight of him.

"i don't think i've ever come that hard in my entire life," you whispered to yourself and of course he heard it, a sly smirk appearing once more. your head fell back onto the pillow with a loud sigh.

"that sounds like a challenge, sweetheart. let's see if i can make those legs shake again." eddie took his fingers and sucked the slick off slowly.

"a-already?" your voice was shaky coming out. you sat up on your elbows and looked at the man in front of you with a very small touch of fear in your eyes. not that you were scared of him at all, but you thought you'd have some recovery time. apparently, that wasn't on eddie's agenda for the day.

"is that going to be a problem?" he crawled up your body leaving whispers of kisses, his dark eyes boring into your very soul. you gasped as he bit down slightly on your side, scraping his teeth across your skin and leaving a dusting of goosebumps.

"not at all, eddie..."

"mmm," he bit a little deeper, humming into your skin. his lips suctioned harshly, a deep red and purple bruise appearing in their wake.

eddie peppered a few more hickeys along your stomach and left a trail all the way to your breasts before taking the left nipple in his mouth. his tongue swirled delicately around the tip, leaving a little bite as he switched to the other tit. whichever one wasn't in his mouth was being fondled by his hand, twisting and pulling hard enough to make you moan out his name.

"fuck, say my name again," eddie tugged a little harder on your right nipple and your mouth formed an "o", silently screaming. god, you were just so stubborn. you couldn't just give him what he wanted after all that teasing he had put you through.

"awe, don't get all shy on me now, baby. i wanna hear that pretty mouth scream my name." he released your breast long enough to tease you before he was on them again.

"you might have to try a little harder than that— oh!" eddie sat up and ripped your body flush to his, the tip of his dick lightly grazing over your soaked center.

"you don't get to tell me what to do, sweetheart. you're here to listen." his hand wrapped around his cock and it made it look even bigger than it already was. he slapped the head on your abused clit a few times before running through your folds wet with creamy slick. you were trying so hard not to moan his name. it wasn't a matter of not doing it at all, more so a game to see how long you could hold it together. you did not have high expectations for yourself considering just looking at eddie munson made your thighs clench together.

eddie smirked as he heard the wetness each time he teased your entrance. "see, now i'm going to need you to beg for it," he stated plainly.

your mouth fell agape in slight annoyance, you were definitely over not having his dick in you. "just fuck me!" you tried to grab him but he slapped your hand and then your face.

"did i fucking say you could touch me? now lay back like a good little slut, would ya?" he positioned himself at your weeping hole and pressed slightly. "beg." his dark eyes glared at you through heavy lashes.

"no." you pushed back tauntingly.

"beg or i'm leaving." he was completely bluffing but you didn't know that. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him if not more.

"fine," a huff exasperated from you as well as a comically unenthusiastic, "please."

eddie barked out a rash laugh, "are you kidding? what the fuck was that?" his hand wrapped around your throat, "i said to fucking beg, beg for me to put you out of your misery, huh? beg me to destroy you like you wanna be." his voice was low and raspy and it had you clenching down on the nothingness in your pussy.

an inch of his cock entered you and just as quickly, it was out. "fuck! you're so mean!" you pouted as your hands gripped onto the bedsheets in frustration.

"no, if i was mean, i'd have left you at the door, baby." another chuckle came from him before he ran his tongue up your throat in a thick strip. the wetness being accompanied by the coldness of the air made your nipples turn pebbled.

"look at her down there, she's so lonely. don't you want me to fill her up?" a thick finger ran through your folds and sunk into your hole and you gasped. "or i can just keep barely touching you, is that what you want, you fuckin' brat?"

towering over you with your legs in the air, eddie let his spit fall from his mouth to your clit and rubbed it in. it didn't need the extra lubricant, but eddie liked watching you squirm under him from every single move he made. you made him feel so powerful. you finally gave in.

"eddie, please, have mercy."

his eyes grew the darkest you had ever seen them. you knew you were in so much trouble and you couldn't wait for the consequences of your actions. with your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched eddie sink himself into you. inch by inch he made you feel fuller than you had ever before. you squeezed him involuntarily.

"jesus christ," he whispered. "i thought if i got you warmed up, i'd go in easier, but damn sweetheart. tight little thing you got here," his rough thumb plays with your clit in the slightest. your cheeks flushed at his words, but he just relishes in the feeling of how warm and taut you are. "just suckin' me right in."

he threw his head back as he bottomed out and you let out a small squeak. you were scared to try to speak due to your brain being absolutely empty of anything but him.

"s-so fu—" was all you mustered before eddie pulled out and slammed the full length of his cock into you and you let out a scream. another slam and another. he was laughing and relentlessly fucking you into your poor mattress. your head spun as he pounded into you, the slick sounds echoing in that blank brain of yours.

"this pussy was fuckin' made for me, wasn't it?" he asked with a sly smile. your thighs were bouncing off of his making a loud smack! with every thrust.

"yes, yes, it was m-made for you," your head was shaking back and forth, eyes shut and your bottom lip now bruised and swollen from biting down so hard.

eddie then crossed your legs against his chest making you tighter for him, a little rag doll for him to use and abuse. you could feel yourself start to topple over, his dick caressing your sweet spot flawlessly. you let go without a noise; your head was thrown back and you clutched his hands that were gripping your hips.

"atta girl, how many more can you give me?" his grip tightened again, fingernails digging into your plushness and causing your breath to hitch in pain. you fucking loved it.

"more, please?" another pathetic whimper came from your mouth and eddie just wanted to slap you again, but you were using your manners like he asked.

"you want more, baby?" he roughly flipped you onto your stomach. "on your hands and knees." his hands guided you and put a pillow under you. "now relax."

and so you did. your ass was in the air and you took a deep breath before a hard smack came across your ass and you could feel your skin rising and burning from the welt that was forming. a few more strikes had you pleading and whining under him before he finally decided you'd had enough(hardly).

nails scratched down your back as he leaned down and growled into your ear, "you want it rough, sweetheart? is that what you want? someone to put your bratty self into your rightful place: under me?"

"y-yes, please! please, eddie!" he lined himself up to your entrance again, slamming into you. his large hand clamped over your mouth and pulled your back to his chest. a bite to your earlobe distracted you before he mercilessly drove himself into you. slick and wet sounds filled the room once again, sweat clinging to both of your bodies. you had never felt so used in your life.

eddie shoved you facedown into the mattress, his veiny cock sliding in and out with grace and purpose. your hair was soon balled up into his fist stinging, making you lightheaded and seeing spots in your already fuzzy vision. your moans grew shorter and louder with each thrust, knowing you were coming undone yet again.

the slight curve of eddie's dick hit your g-spot just fucking right over and over before he reached down and his adept fingers went to work on your already throbbing clit. eddie would admit that this particular position was not the best for that, but he made it work. and holy shit did it work.

with a loud moan/scream and some intense body shakes, you came all over his cock and lost all movement for a few minutes. your legs and arms tingling—even your face felt like pins and needles. you had never felt such pleasure from someone else, or even yourself for that matter!

luckily, eddie was nice this time, giving you some time to recover before his decided final go. he was proud of himself; for an older man, he had quite the stamina.

he laid you on your side, rather gently for the previous actions, and spooned you. his dick was digging into your back, wet from your cum and arousal. in one swift motion, he slid himself into your slick folds not entering you just yet. he wanted to tease a little. the tip of him nudged at your clit deliciously.

"you ready, baby?" eddie's breath hit your ear and sent pleasant shivers down your spine. he definitely noticed and loved the reactions he got from you.

"yes, i'm ready, please, fill me up!" you sobbed pathetically.

"fuck," he lined his head back up to your seeping hole, slipping it in with such ease.

you thought the other positions were good? this was your favorite by far. the intimacy as he held you close and slowly slid in and out of you felt like he might actually call you after this.

one hand held tightly onto your waist while the other was tangled in your hair, pulling ever so slightly. it was more like he was playing with it than anything. a sweet kiss was laid under your ear and you moaned quietly.

he yanked your head back by your hair suddenly and his breath tickled your ear, "come on, sweetheart. you can do better than that, be louder for me, huh?"

a harsh thrust made you scream; a yelp was let out with every slow drag of his dick against that spongey spot. you knew your eyes were rolling back into your head. it was so intense and you never wanted it to end. eddie, cocky as ever, couldn't contain his sly smile as he continued to slide into you.

such a mess was being made and you couldn't be bothered to care, where on the other hand, eddie was laughing coyly in your ear. he was so proud of himself for making you come undone.

"atta girl, gonna cum for me one more time? make a big ole mess of me, hmm?" eddie sunk his teeth into your neck and sucked on the spot he found earlier knowing it would make you lose all control(like you even had it from the beginning).

your cunt squeezed him tight while you came, throbbing all around him. your walls closing in on him had eddie swearing into the crook of your neck.

"fuck, fuck, holy shit... where?" he was biting your shoulder again, trying desperately to hold out.

"i'm on the pill, eddie," your voice came out cracked and weak, completely fucked out.

without needing any further explanation and one last drive into your abused cunt, eddie came with a quiet but husky moan and you don't think you'd ever heard anything more fucking sexy.

you two lay in that position for a moment; his chest was slightly sticking to your back every time he exhaled and your legs were intertwined. when he finally decided to pull out of you, you got sad. you had no idea what this meant and you already missed his touch. no doubt you were an absolute goner.

eddie left the room for a while, putting his boxers on before. when he came back, it seemed he had made himself right at home. a glass of water and a warm rag were in his hands, a small smile graced you as he leaned down to give you the water.

"figured you'd need this. you're all tuckered out, little one." his eyes were a vast contrast from ten minutes ago. once hungry and lustful pits of black were now kind and gentle brown orbs searching your face for regret or fear. to his surprise, all he found was pure adoration and maybe a touch of something else.

"thank you..." you whispered as you sat up and took a grateful drink. cool water flowed down your throat and soothed the hoarseness from the noises that came out of you prior.

"here," eddie took it out of your hands when you finished and gently turned you to your back and spread your wobbly legs. "let me take care of you, okay?"

the way he looked at you with concern had your head spinning. the warm rag glided against the plush of your things and up capturing all of the mess you two had made together.

"why are you being so nice to me?" you didn't mean for it to come out like that, but it did.

eddie looked taken aback, but he understood why you were confused. "just because i'm rough on the outside, sweetheart," he paused to kiss up your thigh. "doesn't mean i'm rough on the inside."

a wide, genuine smile invades eddie's features and yours alike. he looked down to your lips and then back up to your already pleading eyes. the urgency with which he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his was impressive.

the kiss was softer and longer than you had imagined it would be and it was the best kiss you ever had. no competition.

he lightly tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth when he finally decided to pull back from you. your face was still in his hands as he touched your noses together softly. he was looking into your eyes so intently that you felt like you needed to hide, but you trusted him for some reason.

"so you think you'll call me after this?" you laughed lightly, still trying to figure him out.

"oh, hell yeah. i gotta get that shitty car fixed up for ya'!" he laughed and you smacked his arm.

"but no, seriously, are you kidding? you think i'm gonna let you go after all the filthy shit we just did? you're mine now, baby."

a squeal left you as he pulled you down the bed to plant another passionate kiss to your lips.

"besides... i've seen the way you look at me. you couldn't leave me alone anyway," he smirks at you with annoying confidence.

"me? why do you think every time you've seen me, it's been in something small and skimpy, mr. munson. you're a dirty man, i know how to reel you in."

a groan left his mouth and he threw you back on the bed, "oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart."

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

ahhhhh!! it's finally done. jesus christ.

i started writing this in august :,)

sooo, merry early christmas, i guess (> u <)

i'm thinking about a part two? lemme know!

also, thank you all so much for sticking with me ❤️

i appreciate each and every one of you!

-cass

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