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#i need to crash my car into a wall
crabs-nonsense · 2 months
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Hey anybody remember like half a year ago when I mentioned traveling to the other side of the country to meet cosplay friends in person in half a year.... 👀
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handern · 11 months
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no offense to metal singers of all genders but if you sing like you're in a pop rock band while your fellow band members are shredding their instruments like their lives depend on it you need to find passion and shed your respect for your vocal cords
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canadiankakashi · 6 months
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I'm very much a car guy but i don't think you need to be one to understand how crumple zones work and why they're great and it's painful seeing people ignore how important they are
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leonardburton · 1 year
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me, every time i leave a conversation, muttering to myself to imaginary beatboxing: i am normal; about stuff. i am normal; about things. i am capable; of having a normal reaction; to outside stimuli and events. i am normal! about stuff. i am able; to maintain normal facial expressions and control my tone of voice when i speak. i am good; at conversations. i do not; look like a scared rabbit; every time someone approaches me. badaboop; i am normal; at phonecalls. i do not need; to mime intense screaming every time i hang up.
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fastandcarlos · 2 months
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"Brake! Brake! Brake!" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: putting you in the simulator was supposed to be a bit of fun for charles, but not even he could prepare himself for the terror of being spectator to this
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“My love, you need two hands on the wheel,” Charles told you, standing just beside you as you tried your best to figure out what all the buttons meant, “just drive, I’ll help you with all of those and tell you when you need them.”
“Which one is the brake? I’m gonna crash!” You cried out, entering the first corner on the simulator, your heart was racing, feet tapping around as you tried to find what you were looking for.
“The wall!” Charles yelled, hiding behind his hands as he watched your car veer towards the side as you lost control, unable to concentrate too much.
The sudden feeling of a hand wrapping around your ankle showed you where the brake was as Charles moved your foot onto it. Your mind was racing as you tried to do a million and one things. Behind you, Charles tried his best to help you, but you were far too out of your depth to listen.
It was almost funny for him as he watched you, taking for granted how hard his job was.
“I give up with this, it’s stupid,” you huffed as you almost went into the gravel again, desperately trying to save your car. “I’m not built for all of this driving, can’t I quit?”
“Come on, you’re still only learning,” Charles reminded you, kneeling down so he was by your side. His smile was warm, as funny as he found it watching you, he also knew just how much you wanted to learn more about what he does, giving it a go for yourself.
You carried on battling for a few more moments, luck far from on your side, until a pair of hands hovered over yours against the steering wheel.
“We’ve got this, we’re a team,” Charles whispered as he felt you turn to face him, leaning across and helping you steer the vehicle.
As soon as Charles took a hold the whole thing felt easier, whilst he focused on navigating, you were able to accelerate and brake at just the right moment.
Somehow a few moments later you found yourself crossing the line, surprising yourself that you hadn’t forced your car into the pits to retire.
“That was amazing for a first attempt,” Charles chimed, trying his best to reassure you, “you’ll be a natural soon enough,” he added, kissing the side of your head.
With a bit of persuasion, you decided to give another track a go, reluctantly agreeing when Charles suggested giving Monaco a try. It was your home after all, surely you could remember the roads, but behind the wheel of the simulator, you confidently forgot everything.
“This time just try and worry about one thing at a time, don’t stress too much,” Charles instructed, kneeling back where he was before by your side.
You nodded as you made yourself comfortable, watching for the lights to go out to signal for you to start your race. As soon as they did you slammed your foot down, taking yourself by surprise with how quickly the car shot forwards.
A squeal came from you, a snigger coming from Charles, knowing that you were far from prepared. Your surprise left you struggling for control once again, almost forgetting that the entire track wasn’t straight.
“Brake! Brake! Brake!” A voice cried out from beside you.
Just in time your foot hit the brake, turning the car before you flew off the track. Like before, you barely made it around the track in one piece, glancing at your suffering boyfriend as soon as the race finished.
“You’re amazing at a lot of things, but I don’t think racing is one of them,” Charles joked, reaching across and taking a hold of your hand as he took it off of the steering wheel. Your head immediately nodded in agreement with Charles, it was fun to support him, but you were much better off doing that in the comfort of the paddock.
Charles loved you for trying, he loved how hard you worked to enjoy the things he loved, but even he couldn’t lie and say you were a good driver.
“I’ll leave the grand prix to you,” you laughed, stepping out of the simulator, “I think my strengths lie elsewhere.”
“I can think of a few strengths,” Charles whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.
Your eyes rolled at the knowing expression that was on his face, but you allowed your arms to wrap around his neck anyway.
Charles closed the distance between you both, pressing a kiss against your lips. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?” Charles innocently asked, chuckling to himself as you continued to stare at him, knowing Charles all too well, knowing exactly what he was hinting at too.
“You’re impossible sometimes, you know?”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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lilaccmilk · 3 months
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Write it on my neck, why don't ya?
(And I won't erase it, I need you more than I want to)
content warning: mentions of hickeys, smut obv, reader is referred to as “she”
Imagine possessive werewolf boyfriend.
You both are out at a party, and some guy just won’t stop trying to hit on you. You are looking for your boyfriend who has went to get you both drinks.
The guy in front of you tries putting his hands on you, but you back away. Your back comes in contact with your boyfriend’s chest. He stares down at the guy and pulls you closer to him by your waist.
“Back the fuck off, she’s taken” he snarls. You both leave the party soon after and your boyfriend hasn’t said a word since then. It’s bothering you, but suddenly he pulls over into the side of the almost empty road and stops the car.
“What happened? Are you fine?” you try to get to know the reason of your boyfriend’s silence. He looks at you for a split second and growls out “Sit on my lap.” Not wanting to piss him off even more, you do as he says.
As soon as you’re on his lap, he kisses you with such intensity that the air is knocked out of your lungs. He kisses like a mad man. He pulls away and your body forces you to inhale as much air as possible because of the previous lack of it.
Your lipstick is ruined and he doesn’t seem to care. He then goes for your neck, biting you, marking you as his. Only his. He doesn’t let up his assault on your neck, the beast in him not satisfied. But then again, when is he ever? With you, he is feral, he forgets them meaning of words like patience.
Your hands reaches to unzip his pants, his swollen cock springs out, precum leaking out in copious amounts. Wordlessly, he slides your panties to the side and sinks into you. Your velvet walls welcoming him with eagerness. As always, he is pussy drunk as soon as he is inside you. He starts growling out things that has been on his mind.
Fucking human–hah– thinks he stands a chance with you, my mate. Have to mark you–ah–up. Show them that you’re all–hnng– mine.
He thrusts into you with a brutal place. The wet squelches your cunt is making, might have you feeling shy and embarrassed in other days, but you are far too gone to even care. You feel pleasure building up in your lower stomach and it crashes over you. Your boyfriend cums soon after, his knot keeping his seed inside.
“Tomorrow” he starts, “when you go out, don’t cover these up.” “I won’t.” you reply breathlessly.
part two
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Help, My Cat Drank My Red Bull!
Max Verstappen x veterinarian!Reader
Summary: in which Sassy gets into an open can of Max’s energy drink and inadvertently leads Max to the love of his life
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Max sighs as he exits the sim-rig, stretching his arms over his head. After a few intense hours of virtual racing, he could use a pick-me-up.
He wanders into the kitchen, spotting the full can of Red Bull he had left on the counter earlier.
Perfect.
But as Max reaches for the energy drink, something catches his eye — a sticky puddle on the granite countertop where the can should be. He leans in, sniffing cautiously. The unmistakable sweet scent of Red Bull wafts up.
“What the ...” His voice trails off as a blur of tan fur darts past the corner of his vision.
Sassy skids into view. Her pupils are dilated to the size of marbles and she’s practically vibrating with excess energy. Max’s jaw drops as the realization hits.
“No, no, you didn’t ...”
But the evidence is irrefutable. Sassy must have knocked over the can and lapped up every sugary drop.
Max runs a hand through his curls, panic rising. Too much caffeine could be incredibly dangerous for a cat her size. He needs to get her to a vet right away, but at — he checks his watch — 2:14 in the morning, his usual clinic will be closed.
“Come here, Sassy!” He calls, slowly advancing on the hyper feline.
But Sassy just stares at him, unblinking, before bolting in the opposite direction with a manic burst of speed. Max gives chase, cursing under his breath as she darts around furniture and ricochets off walls. After several frantic minutes of pursuit, he finally manages to corner the cat and scoop her into a carrier.
Sassy yowls in protest as Max secures the door, but he has no choice. He grabs his keys and races down to the parking garage, carefully settling the carrier into the passenger seat of his bright red Ferrari before peeling out toward the nearest emergency vet clinic.
The drive seems to take an eternity with Sassy howling the whole way. Max’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel as he haphazardly parks outside the clinic and jumps out, slamming the door behind him.
Only to stop dead a few steps later, the realization crashing over him like a wave. In his haste, he left the cat in the car.
“Shit!” Max spins on his heel, cheeks burning as he hurries back and grabs the carrier, cradling it awkwardly against his chest.
He strides through the front doors of the clinic, the receptionist looking up in surprise at his abrupt entrance.
“Please,” Max gasps out, eyes wide. “My cat, she drank a whole can of Red Bull. What do I do?”
The receptionist’s brows knit together briefly before her features smooth into a professional mask. “Okay sir, please have a seat in exam room three. The doctor will be right with you.”
Max nods frantically, hurrying down the hallway as directed and gently depositing the carrier on the exam table. He resumes his pacing, running anxious hands through his hair.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally opens. But the person who walks in absolutely takes Max’s breath away.
You are, without a doubt, the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen. From your cascading locks to your warm eyes, Max can’t tear his gaze away. Your figure is highlighted by pale blue scrubs as you cross the room, a soft smile playing at the corners of your mouth.
“Good morning, I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. What seems to be the trouble?”
Max’s throat is suddenly, inexplicably dry. He clears it harshly. “U-uh, hi. I’m Max. Max Verstappen. My cat, Sassy, she — well, I had a can of Red Bull out and she must have knocked it over because when I came back, it was empty but the counter was sticky and then she was just … super hyper and crazy ...”
His words stumble to a halt as you lean over, gently pulling the still-feisty Sassy from her carrier and depositing her on the table. You murmur soothingly, stroking her soft fur as you examine her dilated pupils and elevated pulse.
“Hmm, yes, it does sound like she’s had a bit too much caffeine.” You shoot Max a reassuring smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “Not to worry though, we’ll get her taken care of.”
As you deftly slip a mild sedative into the crook of Sassy’s leg, Max can’t help but watch in awe at how gentle and caring you are. He’s never seen someone so compassionate and loving toward an animal before.
Within minutes, the sedative takes effect and Sassy transforms from a blur of frantic energy to a lazy puddle of fur, watching the room with heavy-lidded eyes. You scratch between her ears, lips quirked.
“There we go, that’s better. She’ll be feeling pretty groggy for the next little while as the caffeine works its way out of her system.”
Max nods dumbly, completely mesmerized as you deftly check Sassy’s vitals again.
“Her temperature and heart rate are looking good. I’d just recommend keeping her awake and hydrated until the effects have fully worn off in six to eight hours, then she should be back to normal.”
“Okay, yeah. Thank you so much, really,” Max gushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was so worried when I realized what happened.”
You shrug with an easy smile. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Better to get these things checked out, just to be safe.” A teasing glint enters your expressive eyes. “Although, I have to ask — how exactly does a Red Bull can get knocked over and lapped up by a cat?”
Max feels his cheeks flush again as your gaze meets his, warm and friendly and so incredibly beautiful up close.
He clears his throat. “Uh, well, you see I was sim racing for a while and just left it out, which was dumb of me ...”
As he rambles through the explanation, Max can’t tear his eyes away from the crinkles that form around your eyes when you smile or the melodic lilt of your laughter. By the time he’s finished, he’s even more smitten than before.
An awkward silence falls as you finish up examining Sassy. You turn back to Max, expression soft.
“Well, it seems like your girl is going to be just fine. I’ll get the discharge paperwork ready for you.”
Your footsteps retreat toward the door and panic seizes Max’s chest. He can’t just let you walk away, not without at least trying ...
“Hey, uh, Dr. Y/N?” He calls out before he can overthink it.
You pause, eyebrows raised expectantly as you turn back.
Max suddenly can’t remember what he was going to say. His mind goes blank, palms growing sweaty, as he shuffles his feet. The words completely escape him as he’s overwhelmed by your warmth and beauty.
“I, uh … thanks again. For helping Sassy,” he stammers out instead, mentally kicking himself.
You smile patiently. “Of course, I’m just glad she’s going to be okay.”
An awkward silence stretches between you as Max wars internally, desperately trying to muster the courage to ask you out properly. But the moment slips away as you begin to turn back toward the door.
“Well, I’ll get those discharge papers ready for you.”
“Right, yeah, okay. Thanks ...” Max’s words trail off lamely as you exit the room.
He squeezes his eyes shut, smacking his forehead in frustration. He just completely blew his chance with the most incredible woman he’s ever met, all because he’s a bumbling idiot who can’t even form a simple sentence around someone that effortlessly beautiful and caring.
Max blows out a long breath, trying to refocus on the fact that Sassy is going to be alright, at least. As he carefully gathers her sleepy form back into her carrier, he can’t help the pang of regret that settles in his chest.
Maybe your paths will cross again someday under better circumstances. A guy can dream, right?
***
The next week drags by for Max in a blur of monotony. He finds his thoughts drifting constantly back to the emergency vet clinic, replaying his disastrous non-attempt at asking you out on a date. Just the memory of your radiant smile and warm eyes is enough to make his heart stutter.
But as the days pass with no sign of you around Monaco, Max’s hope slowly fades. Of course someone as incredibly kind, caring, and beautiful as you would never go for an awkward guy like him. He’s an idiot for thinking he even had a chance.
Exactly one week after the Red Bull incident with Sassy, Max is moping on his couch, idly stroking Jimmy as he channel surfs. He pauses on a cheesy romcom, watching with mild disdain as the bumbling male lead performs increasingly ridiculous stunts all for a chance to see his love interest again.
It’s utterly ridiculous. And yet … Max feels a strange sense of kinship with the hapless romantic on screen.
Because as he stares at the TV, a crazy idea begins to take shape. If he wants to see you again so badly, why not take a page from the movie’s playbook? With a jolt of determination, Max scoops up a disgruntled Jimmy and tucks him into his carrier.
“Looks like you’re coming with me on an adventure, buddy,” Max murmurs, grinning slightly at Jimmy’s unmistakable look of disdain. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while. I just need you to play along so I can see Y/N again. You’re going to help me make her yours and Sassy’s new mom.”
Jimmy yawns pointedly, seemingly unimpressed with Max’s romantic scheming. Max just chuckles, scratching the cat between the ears before grabbing his keys and heading for the garage.
He settles Jimmy’s carrier into the passenger seat of his Ferrari, the engine roaring to life under his expert control. As he navigates Monaco’s winding streets, Max keeps up a steady stream of conversation with his distinctly unreceptive feline audience.
“You’re going to love Y/N, I just know it,” he insists, pulling up to a red light. “She’s the kindest, most compassionate person I’ve ever met. The way she took care of Sassy with such patience and gentleness ...” Max shakes his head in wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Jimmy blinks slowly at him, conveying an impressive blend of judgment and displeasure at being awake, much less participating in this ridiculous plan. Max just barrels onward.
“Look, I know this seems crazy. But Y/N … she’s just special, you know? And if this is what it takes to get to know her better, then I’m all in.”
He pulls up to the familiar sight of the clinic, parking much more calmly this time before grabbing Jimmy’s carrier and heading inside. The same receptionist from before looks up in surprise as he approaches.
“You again? Is everything okay with Sassy?”
Panic grips Max’s chest as he realizes he didn’t actually come up with an excuse for bringing Jimmy in beforehand. He scrambles for something, anything, to say.
“Uh, well, actually it’s Jimmy here who needs to be seen,” he rushes out, nodding toward the disgruntled cat. “You see, I was just, uh … brushing him earlier and he seemed great. But then I went to pick him up and it was like … bam!” Max mimes an explosion gesture. “Total f-fur explosion, just hair going everywhere! It was like he was … moulting, but not in the normal way, you know?”
By the time Max finishes, the receptionist is staring at him in bewilderment. He can feel the flush creeping up the back of his neck as she blinks slowly.
“A … fur explosion,” she repeats flatly.
“Exactly!” Max insists with a vigorous nod. “Just an absolute furpocalypse, you would not believe it. So I figured I’d better bring him in to get checked out, just in case?”
A beat passes as the receptionist seems to silently debate arguing with him further. Finally, she just shakes her head.
“Okay, well … go ahead and take Jimmy back to exam room three again. Dr. Y/L/N will be right with you.”
Max’s heart leaps into his throat at the mention of your name as he forces a polite smile and heads back down the hallway to the familiar room. He carefully lets Jimmy out to explore as they wait, praying fervently that you’ll actually be the one to walk through that door.
The minutes drag by in tense silence, Max gnawing nervously at his thumbnail. Just as he’s starting to think this was all a terrible idea, the door swings open and you step inside.
It’s like the world stops spinning for a moment. You are … breathtaking, even more gorgeous than Max remembered. From your tumbling locks of hair to the gentle curve of your smile, he’s completely mesmerized all over again.
You glance up from the chart in your hands, doing a slight double-take as you recognize Max.
“Well, hello again you!” Your voice is bright and melodic. “I can’t say I was expecting to see you back so soon. What happened?”
Your inquisitive gaze meets Max’s and he very nearly blurts out the entire truth right then and there — that he absolutely made up an excuse just for the chance to see you again. Somehow, he bites back the words at the last moment.
“Oh, uh, it was the weirdest thing,” he stammers instead, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I was brushing Jimmy, my other cat, earlier and all of a sudden his fur just started … exploding everywhere! Like, full-on furmageddon. It was insane.”
He cringes inwardly at how stupid he sounds, watching as a crease forms between your brows in contemplation. After a moment, though, your features smooth out into an easy smile and you move closer to gently stroke Jimmy’s silky fur.
“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?”
For the next several minutes, Max watches in rapt fascination as you thoroughly examine Jimmy from ears to tail, gentle hands ghosting over his fur as you murmur soothing reassurances. Just being in your presence is intoxicating.
You’re so caring and patient, even with the obviously fabricated reason Max invented to see you again. It only makes his growing infatuation burn all the brighter.
Finally, you straighten back up and turn to Max with a warm smile.
“Well, I can definitively say there was no fur explosion or moulting crisis with Mr. Jimmy here,” you tease lightly, arching one perfect eyebrow. “He seems perfectly healthy to me. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Your knowing look pins Max in place, cheeks flushing guiltily. He rubs at the back of his neck again, trying to decide if he should just come clean or stubbornly dig himself deeper into this ridiculous invented scenario.
But as he opens his mouth, ready to try and bumble through another excuse, something stops him. Maybe it’s the patient understanding in your warm gaze or the gentle amusement playing at the corners of your mouth. Or maybe it’s just Dutch stubbornness rearing its head.
Either way, Max’s words grind to a halt as he takes a deep, fortifying breath.
“You know what? I’m just going to put it all out there,” he blurts before he can second guess himself further. “The truth is … I made up this whole thing as an excuse to come see you again.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Max presses onward, suddenly unable to stem the flow of words.
“I tried to ask you out last week after you helped Sassy but I completely chickened out like an idiot. And I just … I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how caring and amazing you were.”
Max’s heart thunders in his ears as he runs an anxious hand through his hair.
“So, I don’t know, I got this stupid idea to bring Jimmy in so I could see you again. Which is insane, I know, and you probably think I’m some total weirdo stalker creep now but-”
“Max.” Your soft voice cuts through his panicked rambling like a lighthouse beam in the fog. “Breathe.”
He sucks in a shuddery breath, feeling his cheeks flush scarlet under your gaze. This is it, the moment you shut him down for being a complete crazy person and he has to slink out of here in shame. Maybe he can move to Timbuktu and become a goat herder to escape his humiliation-
“I have to admit, this is a new one for me,” you continue, a teasing lilt to your words. “Most guys don’t go to such elaborate lengths just to see me again.”
You take a step closer, eyes sparking with a hint of mischief that has Max’s breath catching in his throat.
“Though I have to say, faking a pet illness is definitely an … original move. Do you go to such dramatic extremes for all your romantic pursuits?”
Max can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the tightly-wound tension easing from his shoulders.
“No, I uh … you’re pretty definitively the first person I’ve literally made my cat an accomplice just to spend more time with.”
The laughter that bubbles up from you at that is bright and infectious, warmth blooming in Max’s chest as he drinks in the delighted crinkles at the corners of your eyes.
“Well, as harebrained schemes go, I suppose I’ve encountered worse,” you tease warmly. “Though in the future, you’re welcome to just ask me out like a normal person.”
A weighted pause hangs between you as realization dawns in Max’s thundering heart. Is this … is this your way of giving him that very opening?
He clears his throat roughly, feeling oddly like he’s standing at the edge of a precipice, every molecule vibrating with anticipation and hope and sheer, pounding need.
“Does that mean … I mean, would you want to?” The words stick in his suddenly dry throat. “Go out with me, that is? On like … a date?”
The breath rushes from Max’s lungs in a dizzying whoosh as he finally gets the words out. He watches you intently, hands clenched into nervous fists as he waits for your response with bated breath.
For a moment, you’re quiet, considering him with an inscrutable expression. The silence seems to stretch into eternity, suffocating Max as a thousand worst-case scenarios start to race through his mind.
This is it, he’s blown it forever. You’re going to turn him down, probably with a gentle let-down about having to be professional or not dating clients or something. He’ll be crushed, forced to slink away and change his name and flee to the farthest reaches of Nepal to become a hermit and-
And then, finally, you smile. It’s soft and warm and sends relief crashing through Max in a blissful wave.
“You know what, Max? I would really like that.”
He blinks, feeling a little dizzy as the words bounce around his head. “You … you would?”
You laugh again, low and melodic, taking another step toward him. “I would. In fact, I’d love nothing more.”
A giddy grin splits Max’s face before he can rein it in. You actually said yes! To him! After his utterly insane made-up pet emergency, you still somehow agreed to go out with him.
The absurd wave of giddy elation and disbelief must show on his face, because you shake your head fondly.
“What am I going to do with you, Max Verstappen?” You say, voice warm with wry amusement. “Anyone else might have turned and ran after that nonsense, but I have to admit … there’s something terribly endearing about your attempts at romance.”
You brush past him then, headed for the door with a coquettish glance over your shoulder.
“I’ll get those discharge papers ready. And maybe once the completely fabricated fur crisis is dealt with, you can take me out for that date one of these days?”
Max can only nod dumbly, wide smile still firmly in place as the exam room door swings shut behind you. He glances down at a disgruntled Jimmy, scratching his cat’s ears with a breathy chuckle.
“Looks like your little acting gig paid off after all, buddy. Your new mom’s gonna take me out on a date!”
***
A few months later, Max can barely contain his excitement as he weaves through the familiar organized chaos of the Monaco paddock. This race holds a special thrill every year as one of the marquee events on the calendar. But today, there’s an extra level of anticipation thrumming through his veins.
Because for the first time ever, you’re here with him.
After months of gentle coaxing and meticulously planned days off, he’s finally convinced you to spend an entire race weekend as his guest. The chance to show you his world, the intoxicating intensity of a Grand Prix up close, fills Max with a buzz of elation.
He can’t wait for you to experience it all — the roar of finely-tuned engines, the crunch of data analysis, and even the mundane periods of hurry-up-and-wait that are all just part of the hectic lifestyle he loves. Just having you by his side makes everything seem that much more vibrant and alive.
Max throws you a brilliant grin as he catches your eye, unable to resist drinking in how gorgeous you look, face glowing with curiosity and excitement at taking it all in. His breath catches a little at the warmth in your returned smile. Even after months together, he’s still constantly amazed that this funny, caring, wonderful woman actually agreed to be his.
A gentle hand on his arm breaks through Max’s reverie. He glances over to find his trainer indicating they should move on for the next pre-race commitment. Max nods easily, squeezing your hand as he slows.
“Why don’t you wait here? I’ll just be a couple minutes with Rupert going over some details, then we can grab some food, yeah?”
“Sounds perfect.” You lean in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek that makes his head swim. “I’ll be here.”
Max’s grin is so wide it borders on goofy as he tears himself away to follow Rupert toward the motorhome, throwing one last look over his shoulder. You’ve settled onto a stack of tires just around the corner, radiant smile still in place as you watch the surrounding action unfold.
His trainer’s voice pulls Max back to the present as they walk, and he does his best to shelf his heartsick infatuation for a few minutes to focus. This is it, the most famous race of the year. The track with no room for error during qualifying. He should be mentally locking in, triple checking every detail and sensor read-out.
Instead, his mind keeps drifting back to how soft your lips felt against his cheek, how undeniably right it feels to share this with you.
By the time their brief walk-through wraps up, Max is practically shaking with anticipation to rejoin you. Only as he turns back toward where he left you, jacket slung over his arm … you’re nowhere to be seen.
A crease forms between Max’s brows as he scans the scattered tires and tool chests, looking for your familiar figure. You couldn’t have gone far in such a short span.
Then a flash of movement from the Mercedes garage entrance catches his eye and Max feels his heart plummet. There you are, crouched down animatedly in front of the German team’s pit … with none other than Lewis Hamilton and his bloody bulldog Roscoe.
Of course. Of course Lewis-freaking-Hamilton would zoom in the second Max’s back was turned to try and work his charms on you. Even bringing that dumb dog out like the world’s most obnoxious prop to appeal to your soft heart for animals.
Max sees red, an irrational wave of protective jealousy surging through his veins as he watches you laugh at something Lewis says, completely charmed. Your hand strokes Roscoe’s broad head idly, pure affection written across your features.
And just like that, Max is moving before his brain can catch up, feet carrying him hastily across the pavement as if drawn by an invisible cord.
You glance up as he approaches, smile stretching even wider. “Max! Lewis was just-”
But Max pays your words no mind, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you snugly against his side as he sizes up Lewis with narrowed eyes.
“Everything okay over here?” His gaze pointedly avoids the dog panting at their feet.
He sees confusion flicker across your features, but Lewis just chuckles good-naturedly.
“Just making a new friend is all! Your girl here is an absolute natural with Roscoe.” He shoots you a warm grin and motions to his dog, who thumps his stubby tail happily against the pavement.
Max feels his jaw tighten, irrational possessiveness flaring hot and bright as Lewis’ approving gaze lingers a little too long for his liking.
“Oh, the pup’s adorable!” You enthuse, dropping into a crouch again to ruffle Roscoe’s velvety ears. “You’re being such a good boy, aren’t you?”
Max scowls down at the dog, annoyed by his besotted panting and frantically wagging tail as you dole out affectionate pats. Like the mangy thing has any inkling how lucky he is.
Leave it to Lewis to trot out something irresistibly cute like that just to try and win you over.
Seeming to sense his silent brooding, you straighten back up and loop your arm through Max’s, squeezing his bicep gently. “I’m getting a little thirsty, actually. Do you mind if I run to the hospitality tent for a drink quickly?”
Lewis perks up instantly. “I can show you whe-”
“She knows the way,” Max cuts him off, perhaps a bit too sharply judging by your surprised blink. He softens his tone with an effort. “To Red Bull hospitality, I mean. I’ll walk you over.”
He turns on his heel, tugging you along in the wake of his hasty dismissal. Your brows knit together and you open your mouth, no doubt to question his odd behavior.
But Max stubbornly presses on, only slowing once you’ve turned past a row of transport trucks and the Mercedes garage is out of sight. He releases a long, slow breath, some of the weird, clawing tension ebbing away now that you’re back by his side.
“Everything alright?” You ask carefully, mouth curved into a bemused half-smile. “That was … a bit of an abrupt exit back there.”
Max snorts, shaking his head ruefully as you fall into step together. How is he supposed to put this in a way that doesn’t make him sound like a completely irrational, jealous idiot?
“Yeah, everything’s great. Just felt like it was time to move on before Lewis could really get going, you know?” He shoots you a sidelong look, arching one brow meaningfully. “Dude loves to hear himself talk.”
You huff out an amused breath, lips twitching like you’re struggling not to grin wider. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. He seems perfectly lovely from what I could tell.”
Max shrugs one shoulder, brushing off the statement and its implicit critique of his attitude. Lewis is a fine enough guy … he just also happens to be a chronic flirt who clearly recognizes a beautiful, charming woman when he sees one. And that activates Max’s protective instincts on a level he didn’t quite anticipate until he saw Lewis zeroing in on you like that.
You drift closer as you walk, bumping his shoulder with yours playfully.
“You know, it was kind of sweet, actually — him bringing Roscoe out to meet me. I think he knew I’m a sucker for a cute dog.”
Sweet. Right. Because Lewis was just doing it all out of the goodness of his bleeding heart.
“Don’t you mean Roscoe is the real competition here?” Max tries for a teasing tone, only half-joking. “Pretty sure that mutt was the one working overtime to charm you.”
He tosses you an exaggerated leer, stoking the banter to cover his lingering irrational annoyance at the entire situation. If you noticed his blatant brush-off of Lewis, you’re being mercifully subtle about calling it out.
Sure enough, you lift one delicately arched brow, lips curved into an indulgent smile. “Is that so? And here I thought it was just Lewis trying to get on my good side. My, what a dilemma!”
Max chuckles despite himself at your playful tone, some of the weird tension ebbing further from his shoulders. Of course you’re not fazed by all this nonsense — you never are. Not only are you unfailingly kind and patient, but you clearly know him well enough by now to recognize when his protective instincts are causing the occasional bout of unreasonable jealousy.
Even though he swears up and down he isn’t actually jealous, not really. Just … being cautious after finally finding someone as incredible as you.
Red Bull hospitality comes into view up ahead, its distinctive energy drink logos splashed across the entrance. You start to slow as you approach, hand trailing lightly down Max’s arm until your fingers brush his.
“I wasn’t gone that long, you know,” you point out, regarding him with those warm, knowing eyes. “I wouldn’t just run off and leave you behind on your big weekend.”
Something in your tone, soft yet insistent, assures Max that you see right through his childishly competitive display. He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish as you continue.
“Max, you don’t have to worry about anyone trying to steal me away or whatever it is that’s going through that handsome head of yours. I’m yours, remember?”
Your fingers tangle through his and your free hand comes up to cup his cheek, grounding him fully in the moment. He nods slowly, leaning into your touch as the last wisps of stupid, needless jealousy evaporate under the warmth of your fond gaze.
“You’re right, I know. I do remember.” He turns his head slightly, brushing his lips across your palm. “And I’m yours.”
“Exactly.” You raise up on your tiptoes to dust a feather-light kiss across his mouth that leaves Max’s head spinning delightfully. “Now, what do you say we get something to drink so we can enjoy the rest of the weekend together?”
Max grins, feeling lighter than he has all day as he catches your hand and tugs you toward the tent entrance.
“Lead the way, liefje. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
And he absolutely would, too — past Lewis and Roscoe and any irrational jealousy that rears its head. Because having you by his side through all the whirlwind of Formula 1, getting to share this wild life with the woman he loves more and more every day?
It’s the only competition Max has any interest in winning.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 3 months
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austria ‘24
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lando x reader
summary: you let lando take his frustrations out on you after the austrain gp
notes: please please please forgive me for being gone for so long, it’s been hard finding the motivation to write lately, but this one came pretty easy to me after the race. i hope you enjoy it 🤍
warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, a little bit of degradation from lando
wc: 1467
You can’t remember exactly how long you’d held your breath for, standing next to Jon in the garage, gripping onto his arm as Lando and Max fought for the lead. You could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. They were both aggressive, competitive drivers, neither backing down from the fight.
You feel your heart drop to your stomach as you see them make contact, both with punctures in their tyres as they slide into the gravel.
You close your eyes and let out a breath as Lando drives slowly back out onto the track, countless cars already zooming past. He manages to drag the car back to the pitlane, halting the mechanics work when he stands up and gets out of the car.
He keeps his helmet on as he walks past everyone, attempting to keep his cool while he’s still within view of the cameras.
“You should go talk to him.” Jon says to you, nodding in the direction Lando walked off in.
You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what you're about to walk into.
You follow his path down the hall, stopping outside the door to his driver’s room. You lift a fist to the door and gently knock. When you don’t get a response you call out to him.
“Lando? It’s me…”
The door opens slightly, Lando’s hand reaches out to grab onto your wrist, tugging you inside, then closing the door again behind you.
He’s got his race suit hanging around his waist. His shoulders are tense as he paces back and forth in the small room. He looks like he’s trying to slow his breathing, to calm down, but can’t.
“Are you alright?” You ask softly.
“Fine.” His voice is short, clipped, giving you a warning that he’s trying his best not to blow up, especially at you.
You sigh, and lean against the wall, watching as he moves around the room. He’s clearly trying to keep himself distracted, occupied as he fiddles with the strap on his helmet.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He looks up at you for the first time when you ask. His eyes are rimmed with red, his cheeks flushed, and his face still damp with sweat. You can’t tell if he’s about to cry or burst from frustration. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“Max pushed too hard.”
He closes his mouth, his brows raising in surprise.
“He pushed you off track. It’s clearly visible in the footage.”
“The FIA won’t do anything about it.” He grumbles. “He always wins, he’s always on top… I can’t believe he would wreck my race like that.” He huffs. “I was driving fair, and he just completely wrecked my car. And he’s still going to get points.”
You reach out for his hand and pull him over to you.
“There was nothing you could’ve done.” You gently stroke his cheek. “Is there anything I can do?”
He shakes his head, looking down at his hand in yours.
You tilt his chin up to look at you again. “Maybe… help you blow off some steam?” Your hand moves to tangle itself in his hair.
“I need to go talk to the media…” He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours, clearly not making any move to leave you.
“And think of how grateful everyone will be if you go back out there with a clearer head…”
Before he can reply you tilt your head up to give him a teasing kiss. His lips chase yours when you pull away.
“Your choice, handsome.”
He wastes no time lifting you up by your legs, keeping your body trapped between his and the wall behind you. His lips crash against yours in a desperate needy kiss. His hands grip onto your thighs, hard enough that you wonder if you’ll have his handprints bruised into your skin by the time he’s finished with you.
He rolls his hips against yours as he kisses you, his already tight fireproofs feeling so much tighter against him.
His mouth trails down the side of your neck, leaving harsh bites in its trail. You let your head roll to the side, giving him more space to mark you up. Part of you wonders how difficult it’s going to be, hiding his marks when you leave, but with a roll of his hips and a low moan from his throat, all thoughts go out the door.
“Need you.” He groans in your ear.
He lets your legs drop back down to the ground, as he drops to his knees. His hands make quick work of your pants, tugging them down your legs so you can kick them off. He does the same with your underwear, then lets his fingers run through your folds.
“So wet for me.” He smirks up at you. He licks his fingers, and moans at the taste of you. He lifts one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder before he practically dives in to taste you.
Your hands tangle themselves in his messy curls, your head thrown back against the wall. You whimper as Lando sucks harshly on your clit, eager to get you to fall apart on his tongue.
You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, as you pull on his hair, dragging his face away from your cunt.
He looks up at you surprised, almost offended, with his hazy eyes and your slick covering his chin.
“I need you to fuck me.” You tell him.
He grins, standing back up as he pulls his fireproofs down enough to free his cock.
He’s so hard, heavy in your hand as you stroke him.
He lifts you back up again, sliding the tip of his cock through your folds.
“Ready?” He asks.
You nod, then gasp, feeling him fill you up completely in one quick thrust. He stills for a moment, allowing you time to adjust, then gives an experimental thrust.
Your moan urges him to keep going. He fucks into you faster and harder than he’s ever done it before. You wrap your arms around him, attempting to keep yourself upright and stable.
He shows no sign of slowing, even as you tighten around him and moan his name, set on using you for his own pleasure, and it’s making you even more desperate for him.
He moves a hand to press his thumb against your clit, quickly hurtling you towards your orgasm.
You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as he pounds relentlessly into you.
“That’s it, cum on my cock.” He growls. “Where do you want me to cum? Gonna let me cum inside you?” His voice is teasing.
You nod your head, unable to speak.
“Oh, have you become dumb on my cock?” He coos at you.
You can’t reply, simply burying your face in his neck.
“That’s okay. You don’t need to think baby, I’m gonna give you what you need, gonna fill you up with my cum…”
With a few more hard thrusts he feels himself spilling inside you, stilling his hips against yours. He takes a moment to catch his breath, then pulls out and gently lets your feet fall to the floor.
Your grip on him becomes tighter as you feel your legs nearly give out beneath you.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He says, carefully guiding you to the couch.
You try to calm your heartbeat, running a hand over your face.
He tucks himself back into his pants as he looks at you. “Shit, sorry…” Lando grimaces, looking between your legs.
While the sight of his cum spilling out of you sends a new wave of arousal down to his cock again, he searches for a towel.
In the many times the two of you had had sex, he’d never actually cum inside you before, always using a condom or pulling out.
He sits on his knees in front of you, gently wiping between your legs with the towel, apologizing when you wince.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You smile at him. “Feeling better?”
He shrugs, but smiles. “About the race? Not really. About what just happened? Abso-fucking-lutely.”
You laugh as he grins. “You should go. Don’t want to keep the press waiting for you for too long.”
He leans his head against your knee. “Or… I could stay here, and we could do that all over again…”
You shake your head, grinning at him. “I will not be the reason you’re late.”
He huffs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine.” He stands up, only to drop down on the couch next to you. “But you’d better still be here when I come back.”
“I will.” You nod.
“Without pants.” He says with a smirk, slipping out the door before you can reply.
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princessmyriad · 1 year
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Fucken hate landlords man
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 4 months
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[Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)
Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
To your surprise, Kyle, or Gaz – the model-like man introduced himself as – is such a considerate person with a nice sense of humor, at least compared to Soap or Ghost. 
That day you trapped yourself in the predicament with John, he seemed to sense your embarrassment, hence he just handed his boss a backup shirt without making fun of you like his boss, so you have a lot of time for the man. 
Like now, he’s sitting and sharing a plate of biscuits with you, enjoying a tranquil tea time accompanied by the pleasant smell of Earl Grey.
“You don’t have jobs to do today?” You raise your cup and ask, before taking another sip and watch Kyle finish his bite and reply.
 “Ghost’s in charge of dealing with the enemy today.” 
“Ehmm, okay” You refuse to figure out what ‘dealing’ means “What about others?"
"I killed mine yesterday.” 
Okay, you truly don’t mean this, but let’s just end this topic and move on. With a few biscuits down to your stomach, brainwashing yourself to forget what you heard seconds before with the sweetness, and buying you some time to come up with a better subject, you open your mouth again.
“Every time one of you comes here, you just scare all my customers away.”
“Isn’t that better?” 
“I need customers to earn money, Kyle.”
“You have us to pay you.” He points at the badge pasted on your wall. Of course, you’re not the one who put it on, you rather read the military smut out in front of all British than do it, but if you try to take it off, Soap will put a new one back, so in the end you just compromised and let him claim your shop publicly.
“This place isn’t only served for you guys.”
“It isn’t?” 
Is it possible to refute when Kyle flashes you a smile that you almost get blind and start wondering if he can replace himself as your lights and save you the electricity bill? Maybe counting this as one of Kyle’s humor will be better than explaining. All required is to ignore the evil glints in his majestic brown eyes while he questions you.
But even though Kyle said he doesn’t have work today, he doesn’t stay long after he finishes his tea.
“Gotta head back to help the boss.” He grins as he turns the knob and waves you goodbye.
What’s weird is that   after Kyle leaves your shop, customers start flooding back. Many of them are familiars of the shop, as you’re sure they’re 141’s lackeys too.
You remember them see you as one of the henchmen… Although they're not as afraid as when they first visit the shop because of your hospitable attitude, you can still sense the attentiveness in their demeanor.
No matter what, you’re going to figure out what’s  actually  happening.
“Hey, you.” You walk to one of the minions' sides. “Mind to tell me about why you guys always disappear when Gaz or Ghost or others come here?”
“We…” The guy’s eyes avert, shooting his friend a glance for help “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Raising your eyebrow, you lower your voice to make it  menacing 
“It  really  is, ma’am, nothing to bother with the Sirs.”
“Show me, they must have sent some messages to inform you guys, right? Let me take a look, or I will…” You will what?  Actually,  you have no idea what you can do to these guys that can lift you  up  and throw you into a trash bin like a shot “Wait a second.”
Quickly running back to your kitchen, you come back with your most intimidating weapon – 
“Or I will hit you with my pan!” You wiggle your arm as a threat.
“…” 
They don’t look scared of the pan for a tiny bit. Wait, you should take your kitchen knife instead, who the fuck will pick a pan? You idiot.
yet to your satisfaction, they still fish out their phone and let you have it, and you don’t waste any time as you open the texting app.
‘Announcement: Boss will arrive at the tea shop in 10 minutes, clear the shop immediately.’
So they  really  are scaring your customers off. Give the phone back to the poor guy with pity in your eyes, you bring him a few more biscuits.
You’re strolling through the aisles in the shop. You’re out of flour and sugar, and every Wednesday the groceries are on sale. You never miss these chances to build up savings.
What a nice shopping trip. Quiet, leisure, just enjoying your own time, picking up different brands of cereal and calculating which is cheaper like a competent broken adult. Things never go wrong when you’re alone.
“Hey lass!”
Well, you’re kidding, things go south too quickly. The voice’s too familiar. It must be a hallucination.
“Lass? Bonnie?”
 Don’t look back, keep walking. It’s not the detergent man with a stupid chicken crest yelling at you.
“HEY!” A hand pats you on your shoulder and makes you jump. Sighing internally and prey there won’t be any trouble caused by the man, you turn around and face him.
“Oh, Soap, Hi.” Shit, looks like you just can’t have a break from these men. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Even though the nan outside tells me te shut the fok up?”
“Yes.” you shamelessly admit, pro tip to confront people without shame “Why are you here by the way, Soap?”
“Oh, we’re in need of some things, so Ghost pulled off during our way home.”
You take a glimpse at his basket. A rope, a roll of duct tape, and a knife. 
They must be going on a picnic. Yes, don’t overthink. The rope is for securing the tent, the duct tape is for concealing the holes on it. Knife? they surely will need it when cutting apples.
The image of Ghost slaughtering… peeling apple you mean, with Soap and Gaz playing red light green light and John napping in the tent is so vivid in your mind that you need to restrain the laugh with a clear of your throat before you grunt in affirmation and restart your steps.
With Soap depriving you of your last respite, you choose to grab what you need and head to the counter. All you want is to get home, have a nice shower, and lie on the bed reading the new fic you found last night.
“Do ye need help?” He watches you shove the products in your bag, but 5 huge cartons of milk are too heavy for your weak limbs, you can feel your arms trembling under your attempt.
“It’s okay, my car’s near the door. I can carry this myself.” Again, cheekiness works every time. You don’t care about strangers staring at you struggling with the bag and exit the supermarket in a crab way, as long as it can bring you back into peace faster, and you almost tear up when you see your car, the white of it is like the lighthouse in the atramentous night.
Hey, but you don’t remember your car has a goddamn huge dent at its boot.
“Oh yeah, forgot to tell ye. Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours, and he’s contemplating whether he should kidnap the driver when they come back and make them shut up, or just kill them.” Soap looks at you stopping in despair as he recognizes what you’re looking at. “So it’s your car aye?”
You don’t answer him, you just watch Ghost materialize from the Shadow beside your car and give you a nod.
Fuck your life.
a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!
Car -1, Peaceful night -1
tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww
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mirohlayo · 5 months
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Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.
Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.
Thank you so much xxx
P.S. Love you writing
Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡
DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM
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( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )
warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff
note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry
word count : 1.3k
It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.
As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.
You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.
The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.
You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.
After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.
Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.
“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.
You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."
“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.
"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.
“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.
“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.
In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.
“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.
"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.
“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.
It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.
“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.
“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.
They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.
It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.
In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.
And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”
And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...
yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️
view comments
danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁
⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead
⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜
user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense
user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww
⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best
⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier
⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠
landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔
⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥
⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you
charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️
georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit
⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱
user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!
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unoriginal-and-dumb · 7 months
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I imagine that they were childhood friends and played on the gross play rugs in ikea
Headcanons me and my friend came up with if you guys would like to read… huehuehue.. 👇👇
wiki says lampert was formed in a factory but it doesn’t say he was brought to LIFE in a factory. we hc that kasper “made” lampert as a child because he was lonely in ikea and had no friends. Also being one of those mf kids who draw on the walls and everything else. he drew a face on a lamp and the next day it turned into a boy yippee. they grew up together as best friends
kasper originally named lampert lamper, cause his name is kasper and he just replaced the kasp with lamp. when he came to life lampert was like no i think its lampert, not lamper and kasper was like ok 👍😁
they liked to play cars on the car play rug in ikea. kasper liked to race and crash them and lampert liked to send in the police and ambulance for cleanup. theyd play that over and over again it never got old
when they would play outside, they liked to set up things to look really pretty (like a nice stick and leaf house or dress up a really pretty doll) and then set it on fire with a magnifying glass (lampert liked the first part, kasper liked the second part)
kasper is korean-american and he had slightly lighter hair as a kid (LET ME HAVE THIS HAVE HAVE NOTHING)
both them ace and specifically lampert ace aro and specifically like romance and sex repulsed ace aro like if you stand too close to him he freaks out imagine if someone were to kiss him that would not fly. romance and sex r NASTY to him do not touch him
when lampert would hang out with kasper he would just stand very still in the corner of the room the whole time. not for any bad reason, he is just a lamp and does not see the need to do anything else than stand in the corner while he talks. when they hang out at ikea sometimes kasper starts talking to the wrong lamp because of this
lampert has a set list of facial expressions that show exactly how he feels. this is verging on not ok :) (his normal expression) this is not ok : ) (scawy) or this : ( this is silly :] these are all more fine :( :[ D: :D :o :/
lampert talks with a similar cadence to baymax snd also is politely blunt in the very autistic way. he states his opinion on something even if maybe its not a nice thing to say but he says it very politely (when eating food someone made for him that he really doesnt like: “i dont think i will be finishing this, it does not taste good. thank you! goodbye”)
They are so autism vs adhd to me.
Kasper was probably a sticky iPad leash kid before that was really a thing he’s a real trendsetter what a guy. He would run all over the place nonstop and everyone would just see some freak kid run mach 4 snatch a rug off the ground and then disappear like a gnome
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sugar-phoenix · 3 months
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𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔
synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!
ao3 link here!
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The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.
Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.
“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”
You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.
“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”
You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.
Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.
Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.
“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.
A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.
“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.
“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.
“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”
The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.
“All good?”
“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”
You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels.  Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.
You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.
“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.
Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.
The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.
“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.
“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”
You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.
“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.
Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.
“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.
“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”
There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.
Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.
“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.
“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’
“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.
He chuckled before answering.
“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.
“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.
“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”
You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.
“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.
“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.
“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.
“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.
“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.
“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”
“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.
A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.
It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.
“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.
“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”
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dividers by cafekitsune
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uglypastels · 1 month
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Logan x reader where the reader is scott's younger sister and they're in a secret relationship because she's younger/obviously doesn't want her brother to know. Maybe Scott tries to set her up with someone else or she gets hurt on a mission or something because she got too cocky and everything comes to the surfaces. Sorry I know that's now very descriptive🙈
no don't be sorry this was perfect, if not giving me too much to word with lol. this is so great I wasn't really sure how to incorporate all the elements, but I hope what I managed to do was still good. I certainly had a lot of fun writing it lol. also, apologies if there are some dumb mistakes/errors. i am so sleep deprived but just really wanted to post this before going to bed.
warning: Smut 18+ only. MDNI. no condom [wrap it before you tap it pls]. p in v. fingering. swearing. degradation ["slut" is used]. accidentally almost public stuff. quickie. sub/dom dynamic. un/intentional cockblocking.
~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~
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‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as Logan pressed you against the wall of the small janitor’s closet. It was too cliché to even think about it. And who would have ever expected the Academy to have a janitor’s closet? If you thought about it, it was almost as if the universe wanted you to take this opportunity and hook up with him in the little cubby.
The second you saw him that morning in his loose-fitted long-sleeve and those boot-cut jeans, the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you needed him. You had managed to survive past noon, and then you had to go and stumble into the garage and catch him working on his motorbike.
His long-sleeve was discarded to reveal the white, now slightly dirty, tank top. His arms were toned and tanned. You watched him just long enough for him to notice your presence, then to grab the towel hanging from his back pocket and wipe his hands clean. 
‘C’mere, Princess,’ he called you over with two fingers, and you almost felt like you had gained the ability to float so quickly had you made your way over to him. Next thing you know, he had picked you up, his hands firmly on your ass, yours in his hair, and your lips colliding in a passionate crash of a kiss. 
‘Fuck, I missed this,’ you moaned out in a desperate moment to catch a breath with your chest already heaving. ‘Missed you.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth, getting the most satisfaction at how a smile formed in the spot where your lips touched him. Neither of you could help yourselves. The urges you felt were nearly animalistic, but when you were around him, you also felt like you were up in the clouds, feeling light as a feather and giddy like an idiot. The need for him was coursing through your veins. 
‘Mmm, I know, sugar,’ his voice came deep from his throat in a growl full of yearning. ‘Gonna let me have my way with you, yeah?’
All you could respond with was a desperate moan. So caught up in the delicious feeling of his body against yours, that you nearly missed the beeping announcement of the garage doors opening. You would have gone on unaware of anything going on around you if it wasn’t for Logan pulling away and setting you back on the ground. It was like a switch flipped on inside your brain, and just in time, as the doors opened and a car drove up as you took your precautionary steps away from Logan, who had gone back to working on his bike. 
The car halted in its designated parking spot, and you weren’t surprised to find your older brother, Scott, stepping out of it. Only he would have such perfectly unfortunate timing.
‘Hi Scott,’ you tried to sound chipper about bumping into him, and absolutely not like he had just interrupted a much-needed make-out session with your boyfriend that he knew nothing about. How you had managed to keep it a secret for all these months, you had no idea. 
‘Hey,’ he smiled politely you way, as he had already made his way to the exit. As always, you couldn’t see his eyes through the red glasses he wore, and yet you could tell exactly where he was looking at with that judgemental look of his. But Logan didn’t pay him any attention, which might have even been the bigger insult than if he had quipped something your brother’s way. You knew he wanted to, though, but you also knew that he didn’t want to insult your brother right in front of you. 
You waited for Scott to walk out of the room, but to your surprise, your brother turned around to you. ‘Are you coming?’
‘She was about to.’ You heard Logan mumble under his breath as he… You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing with that bike with the screwdriver. You never understood much of mechanics.
‘Uhm, yeah,’ you responded, ‘I uhh– I just wanted to ask Logan something. I’ll just be a moment.’
‘No, I’ll see you later, bub,’ Logan caught you off guard. ‘This might still take a while and I don’t want to keep you waiting.’
‘Oh, ok.’ You pushed the disappointment off your face before you started walking to the exit where Scott stood, still none the wiser. As soon as you walked into the corridor, you made up an excuse to go the other way and walked as fast as you could without making it necessarily suspicious if he had glanced your way.
The hours that followed went by painfully slow. You kept your eye out for Logan, but he was nowhere to be seen all afternoon. Dinner had come and gone, and you were returning to your room, already having made your peace with the fact that today was simply one of those days where fate kept you apart.
And exactly at that moment, Logan turned the corner.
‘Where the hell were you all day?’ you questioned, annoyed, but no matter how angry you pretended to be, the grin on your face at the sight of your boyfriend was quite clear in meaning.
‘I did have stuff to finish on my bike.’ He took a few large strides your way, ‘and then some kids needed help with something.’
‘Aww, that’s sweet.’ You leaned into him, your chin on his chest, as you looked up into his eyes.
‘Don’t act too surprised, Princess.’ His arms immediately wove themselves around your waist, and you slowly leaned for a kiss. It was risky to do this in an open hallway where anyone could walk in, but in the moment, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to feel him, all over you. The desperation for it grew with each second and was ready to explode. 
That was all in theory, of course, since as soon as you heard any threat, the risk-taking daredevil part of you immediately hid, and you were looking for an escape route. It was two pairs of footsteps this time that echoed through the hallways. You cursed under your breath. 
Just your luck to be standing next to a door. Trying its limits again, you pulled down at the door handle and sighed with relief as it opened. You quickly slipped inside, pulling Logan in behind you by the hand. He closed the door back behind him just in time as the footsteps, which you now recognised to be Scott and Jean’s, along with their voices, moved across the spot where you had just been standing.
‘Are they—’ but your question never was finished, as your lips were caught in a haste kiss. It was pitch black in the tiny room, but you heard Logan pull the lightbulb cord. The next thing you know, the faint yellow light illuminated what you now recognised to be the janitor’s cubby. A closet large enough to fit a large shelfcase filled with cleaning products, buckets, and towels. But Logan needed no time to orientate himself. He was already all over you. One hand pinning your leg up against his upper thigh, leading you against the wall. 
‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as you felt the pressure and structure of the room against your shoulders, Logan’s chest against yours. His hand stroke up and down your leg, squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass.
‘Wanna be my good little girl?’ Logan growled into your ear.
‘Yes,’ you whined, desperate for more than just his kiss. ‘Fuck, yes.’
‘Want me to fuck your tight little pussy, sugar? Just like you’ve been begging me for? What you say, you little slut?’ At the sound of his words, all of yours simply escaped you and so you could only respond in a series of moans and whines. All sounds that brought Logan immense joy and arousal. ‘Yeah, thought so.’ It had been a very conscious choice you had made that morning by wearing a skirt. Not that you had expected to end the day in this closet, but you were sure it would end somewhere in Logan’s grip. And so you were fully prepared. 
His fingers smoothed over your panties, pressing over your slit, feeling the material get soaked through just that one simple touch. But it wasn’t enough. For either you or him. He kept toying with you for a few more minutes, never crossing the material barrier of your underwear, long strokes up and down, pushing in closer, almost as if nothing was there to separate you. 
‘Please,’ you cried out, ‘baby, please. I need–’
‘What do you need, sweetheart? C’mon, use your words?’ God, you hated when he got so cocky. You could never take much of his teasing. Then again, you weren’t in here to exactly last long. 
‘Need your fingers. Please.’ 
‘Good girl,’ he kissed your forehead, snapped the band of your underwear to make you whine so prettily as he loved, and pulled the panties down your legs. 
Another filthy moan left you as his fingers slowly filled you up. The expletives rolled off your tongue in the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady pace, and one that left you shaking against him. So much so that soon enough, he had to hold you up by the arm, pinning you down even harder. One leg propped up high for even easier access to his favourite part of you. 
‘Such a good slut, taking anything I give you, anywhere I want you.’ His voice could practically get you over the edge alone, and he knew that well enough on his own, and so he kept talking. ‘Can’t wait to get my hard cock in you, Princess. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck. Just you wait—’
‘No, please,’ you cried out.
‘What’s that? My girl can’t wait a few more minutes for her cock?’ He kissed your neck so ferociously it was more like his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, and the sensation left shivers down your whole body. He raised his mouth up to directly speak against your ear.
‘So fucking desperate. Wish you could see yourself now. Just know you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’ He punctuated the question with one final deep thrust of his large fingers. ‘You gonna cum? No, no, no. Not yet. You’re gonna let me have my fun first, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes.’ was all you managed to say. Then his lips clashed with yours in another of your sloppy kisses. Your hands found themselves in his hair for the second time that day, and you already felt yourself falling into bliss, and that was all without even the feeling of his length finally pushing deep in you. If only you could scream the pleasure you felt. But for now, in the closet, you would make due by digging your nails into his shoulder. That, in turn, only got Logan more riled up as his thrust grew in pace. He hit all your right spots evenly, hard and deep. If he kept going like that, and you were sure he would, you didn’t know just how much longer you would last.
‘Fuck, I’m gonna–’ your voice was breathy and out of focus, as all that was on your mind was him inside you. 
‘Yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my cock.’ he growled the words with the same intensity and desperation for release you felt.
You were so close. Just ready to burst. Moment away when—
When suddenly, a knock on the other side of the door halted the both of you. In a sudden moment, everything washed away with the power of a tsunami. Leaving nothing behind but emptiness.
Someone cleared their throat. Someone who you could already recognise from that simple gesture. 
‘Alright, it’s past curfew, lovebirds, knock it out.’ You could hear in your brother’s voice just how uncomfortable he was by catching two, what he assumed to be students, clearly hooking up. Your guess was that the room had not been as soundproof as you imagined a cubby to be. Or you were that much louder. 
You looked up at Logan, who had already started zipping up his jeans. There was another firm knock on the door.
Well, if Scott had already felt embarrassed, you were about to make it ten times worse.
the end.
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thank you for reading 💗
if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗
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the “everyone but me can get fucked” side of me vs the “I care about other’s wellbeing” side of me battle got me googling how to ethically source road signs without buying them (cause fuck capitalism) (also I’m poor)
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themultifanshipper · 1 month
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i will pay GOOD MONEY to read this bro
https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/756785500347580416/4-way-eiffel-tower
You hadn't been in the paddock for several months, being too busy with your career, and the drivers were starting to get antsy about your return.
But who would be good enough to have a go at you was anybody's guess as the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend got underway.
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Warnings: Kinda paddock bunny vibes, but reader more in control, smut, brief stuff with Lando and Charles, slightly creepy/predatory behaviour (but everything is consensual), hand job, oral, PinV, PinA, anal, like 3 lines of dirty talk, aftercare, eeeeh idk what else
Also, here's part 2!
Max was the first to spot you on Friday morning, you were chatting with some of the formula 3 drivers who were getting ready for their practice session.
He wrapped you in a big hug from behind and lifted you up.
“I know it's been a while but these guys are a bit young for you aren't they?” he said teasingly and you slapped his arm, giggling as he put you down.
“Don’t worry, I already have my hands full with you lot. They'll get their turn if they get into formula 1”
You walked with him on his way towards the redbull hospitality.
“Yeah?” he smirked “Speaking of, what's my prize going to be when I inevitably win on Sunday?”
You laughed at him.
“Given how your car's been performing lately I'm not sure your cockiness is justified”
He gasped and put a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“How dare you doubt my talents?”
“It's not 2023 anymore Max, you can't have me all to yourself. You need to learn to share…” you smiled at him devilishly “And for your information, I won't be giving a prize to the winner anyway, so it's anyone's game”
You winked conspiratorially and sauntered off leaving Max on his own to wonder what on earth you meant by that.
The next person you saw was Lando, that very afternoon. And word had obviously traveled fast.
“A little birdy told me you weren't interested in podium sitters this weekend…” he hooked his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to you cheek in greeting “So what's a man gotta do around here to get you to himself?”
He deepened his voice seductively , but it just served to make you laugh at him, given the number of times you'd heard high pitched whines come out of his mouth during your… celebratory activities.
“Well, hello to you too Lando, how was your week?” you teased and he almost looked guilty for a second, before grinning and hugging you tight.
“I missed you in Miami, so I think you owe me something for my first win, no?” he smirked and walked you over to a secluded corner between two garages.
You rolled your eyes at him, amused by his impatience.
He crowded you against the wall and your hands went to pull him closer by his belt loops, so his hips were flush against yours. He gasped and his hips bucked involuntarily at the action.
You laughed “Come here you horndog” and he crashed his lips to yours in a desperate, messy kiss. His lips came to part yours immediately. He hadn't tasted you for so long it took him seconds to get hard.
Your hand made it inside his pants and he whined and rutted against your hand as his head went to the crook of your neck. He was breathing hard and you could almost feel him trembling in your hold.
This was going to be the quickest handjob of your life.
And he never did manage to ask about Sunday's prize.
A few hours later, in the car park, you were cornered by none other than Charles Leclerc.
“Hello” He murmured in your ear and you jumped at the sudden presence behind you.
You turned around quickly and he pressed you against your car to hug you.
“Hello Charles, how are you?” you said while Charles tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Horny” he answered immediately with a smile.
You laughed and he put his hands either side of you, caging you in.
“I can wait until I win on Sunday of course, but I've been told you have something else in mind”
He raised an eyebrow in question and you sighed.
“I'm not telling you what it is Charles”
He nodded solemnly “In that case…” he swiftly opened the back door of your car and pushed you inside, climbed in and closed it behind him.
“I think you owe me a little something for my Home win in Monaco, don't you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows but you just scoffed. “Come on princess, I want to taste you. It's been so long” he whined.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well if you weren't going to be doing any work… might as well enjoy a treat for once.
You smirked at him and he grinned, spreading your legs and lifting your dress…
This was going to be a long weekend.
You managed to mostly avoid the drivers’ advances on Saturday, them being pretty busy with prep and qualifying and sticking around the feeder series drivers.
You hadn't even checked the group chat you'd been added to, you assumed it would just be full of questions about Sunday so you steered clear. Your plans would be revealed soon enough.
Sunday morning you arrived bright and early, catching Carlos on your way in and told him to spread the word with the others:
To shake things up a bit, and to celebrate you returning from your lengthy leave of absence, you would be rewarding the top 3 fastest laps of the race, regardless of the placement in the standings.
As you watched the race unfold you were getting more and more excited. The fastest laps were getting passed around like a football, and you were looking forward to potentially getting to have some fresh blood.
And you were right. The fresh blood came in the form of Logan Sargeant. You hadn't been able to spend a night with him yet, him never having gotten a podium.
After the race you sent a message in the group chat:
‘Congratulations to George, Logan and Max! (And Oscar of course 😘)
The three of you are welcome to stop by my hotel room (306 at the hilton, Lando don't you dare) and you need to decide between yourselves about the order etc etc… I'll be waiting ;)’
.
After a quick shower and a quick meal you lay on your bed and checked your messages.
There was just one from George.
‘we'll be there at 7:30’
Oh…
They were all coming together. (pun intended)
Interesting…
You imagined what it would be like. Would they take turns with you? George or Max showing Logan how to handle you. Fucking you into the mattress while he sat in the chair and watched, waiting for his turn.
Or maybe two of them would fill you up while the other ran his hands and mouth all over your body.
Would any of them be into touching each other? You knew Max and George were closer than what they revealed to the public, and that they had hooked up, but would you get to see it?
You imagined what Logan could be like… Was he inexperienced? Did he fuck like a pro?
All these questions were swirling around your mind when a knock at the door interrupted you. A spark of arousal shot through you and you hurried to go and open it.
Max was leaning against the frame, George stood behind him, smirking, and Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, looking cool as a cucumber as his eyes roamed your figure.
“Come on in boys” you said cheerfully, stepping aside to let them through before closing the door and sitting yourself on the bed in front of them.
“So what’s the plan, Max?” you said mischievously “You going to show these guys how it's done? Or is George going to come and claim his prize for Austria?”
George chuckled.
“Actually, we're going to fill you up.”
You frowned at him in question. “Fill me up?”
“You've got 3 holes for a reason, right?”
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
“Fuck, okay…”
You found yourself bent over the bed, Max's mouth on your cunt and his fingers in your ass, stretching you out for him.
George's cock was in your mouth, and your hand was wrapped around Logan, pumping him at a leisurely pace.
Once you had come from Max's expert fingers and mouth, he deemed you ready and you were repositioned to their liking.
You straddled Logan, Max behind you, and George in front of you.
Pulling Logan into a sloppy kiss, you sank down on him slowly. Your heat enveloped him and he moaned into your mouth as you ground your hips down on him.
You felt Max's presence behind you and he pushed you and Logan to lay down. He positioned himself at your entrance and stroked your flesh tenderly.
“You ready, baby?”
You nodded and he wasted no time pushing the tip in.
You moaned, he was pretty big, and Logan was already filling you up nicely.
He pushed in slowly, and with every inch your moans increased in pitch.
Logan could feel you fluttering around him and it was driving him crazy, choosing to distract himself, and you, by sucking marks into your neck.
Once Max was fully inside, George came forward and stroked your cheek.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
You felt so full you didn't quite know how to respond, overwhelmed by the feeling of the two men inside you.
But when they started moving it was a whole different ball park.
The drag of two cocks against your walls was sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body, it was indescribable.
They didn't have the same rhythm so sometimes one pushed in while the other dragged out, but when both of them pushed in together you swore loudly as they nudged every single one of your sweet spots.
George wrapped a hand in your hair and you looked up at him, already fucked out of your mind.
“Mind if I use your mouth, love?”
He asked with a sweet smile.
You grinned at him and stuck your tongue out.
“Good girl”
Being used by 3 of the fittest men on the planet was exhausting, but incredibly rewarding, as you felt your orgasm creep up on you.
You moaned around George and he pulled out to let you breathe.
Max piped up.
“You getting close, baby?”
You whined out a yes before grabbing George's hips and shoving your mouth back on him, the weight of his cock a grounding presence to counter the white hot pleasure coursing through your body.
“Good, because we're close too, we're going to fill you up. Right guys?”
George hummed and stroked your tear stained cheeks. “And you're going to be a good girl and swallow it all, yes?”
You hummed around him, and then Logan spoke for the first time since he'd walked in the room.
“Gonna fill this sweet pussy full of my cum, baby. You like being full of cum? You like being used like a slut by your friends?”
The shock of his voice in your ear sent a shockwave through you and you came on the spot, creaming around Logan and spasming around Max. They both came inside you with a groan after a couple of rough thrusts and stayed there while you came down.
George wasn't far behind and you swallowed all of him as his come filled your mouth.
The aftercare was amazing. George and Logan accompanied you in the shower, one washing your hair while the other scrubbed your body clean of sweat and leaked come.
Max changed the sheets (he called room service for clean ones) and then went in the shower once you were done.
You went to sleep with the three of them huddled around you, their hands wandering over your flesh affectionately.
You always took care of your boys, and they always took care of you.
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