#sport imagine

[stephstars08]

Best Friend’s Sister

Adley Rutschman x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Fluff and Maybe a Tiny Bit Of Angst, Mention of Cheating, Anxiety, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!)

Summary: Adley’s best friend is his teammate Gunnar and they have been so close ever since the Orioles drafted them. They are so close that they live together so when Gunnar’s big sister comes to Maryland to visit she stays with her brother and his best friend. But right when Adley meets Y/N he instantly falls for her which makes him freak out because he knows that he’s growing feelings for not just any girl, but he’s falling for his best friend’s sister.

Word Count: 2,018

Author’s Note: Just wanted to leave a little note that this story might not be completely accurate. This story takes place last season. I’ve heard Adley and Gunnar say that they have lived together multiple times. I don’t know if they just lived together when Gunnar first got called up or not and I don’t know if they live together now. They definitely live together during spring training but again this story takes place last season where I believed they were still living together during the regular season!

Adley is the star catcher for the Baltimore Orioles and his best friend is his teammate Gunnar Henderson who is the Orioles star in the in field and is also a star with his bat as well. Adley and Gunnar were both drafted by the team in 2019. Adley was drafted number one overall after is record breaking season at Oregon State University. The team ended the season with a National Championship. Gunnar was drafted right out of high school.

The boys became close through the minor leagues all the way up to the major leagues. Adley made his major league debut in May 2022 and Gunnar made his major league debut the same year in September.

People noticed the close bond between the two players that people were saying that Gunnar is Adley’s sidekick. Both boys have admitted that they are very close and have said that the main reason why they are so close is because they live together in a contemporary style house.

———————————————

The Orioles just ended the day with another win. The team has a day off tomorrow before they start another series back at home. The team is currently in Boston getting ready to leave Fenway for the airport back to Maryland.

The team was in the visitor’s locker room gathering their stuff up to head outside to the bus. Adley was putting on his sneakers when Gunnar approached him. “Remember my big sister, is coming tomorrow morning.” Gunnar said reminding him.

A couple months ago Gunnar’s sister who is just a couple years older than him told him that she will be coming to visit him from their home town in Alabama. Gunnar asked Adley if it was okay if Y/N can stay in their guest room while she’s in town which Adley told him it wasn’t a problem at all. Y/N is the only person in Gunnar’s family that Adley hasn’t met yet. Gunnar has told Adley how amazing Y/N is and how close they are with one another. Gunnar is very excited to see Y/N since when Gunnar is playing baseball he doesn’t see Y/N a lot since she’s busy with her career. Y/N just broke up with her boyfriend of one year so she felt like she needed to get away so why not visit her baby bro.

“Right, thanks for reminding me.” Adley told Gunnar as he tied the laces to his left shoe. “How long is she staying with us again?” Adley asked him in a curious tone as he put on his right shoe. “A week and a half.” Gunnar answered him.

“You’re going to love her. She’s like the girl version of me.” Gunnar told him. “Okay so I’m basically going to be living another you.” Adley said as he stood up after tying his right shoe. “Can’t wait.” Adley added in a teasing tone as he playfully rolled his eyes. “Hey! I’m a good roommate!” Gunnar said defending himself as Adley picked up his bags that had him equipment and uniform in. “Whatever you say.” Adley said still teasing his best friend as he made his way out of the locker room. Gunnar rolled his eyes and followed him. He knows that Adley’s just messing with him like he always does. Adley sees Gunnar as a little brother.

———————————————

It was the next morning and Adley was awoken by music playing downstairs. Adley let out a big groan as he got out of his comfy bed. He was planning on sleeping in since the team had a long day yesterday but obviously that’s not going to happen. Adley walked out of his room and stomped downstairs to the living room. He heard the music coming from the kitchen so he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Gunnar will you turn down the-“ Adley started to say in a snappy and annoyed tone but stopped himself when he saw that the person in the kitchen wasn’t Gunnar. Adley right away knew that it was Y/N since she looked similar to Gunnar. Y/N stopped mixing the pancake mix that was in the bowl and paused the music that was playing on her phone.

“Shit! You’re not Gunnar.” Adley said as his cheeks turned a rosy red in embarrassment. “No, but people do say that I do look like the girl version of him.” Y/N told him with a giggle. “I’m Y/N.” Y/N added introducing herself with a kind smile. “I’m Adley but you probably know that so why am I telling you something that you already know.” Adley said cursing at himself in his head. Y/N let out another giggle which made Adley’s heart skip a beat. “It’s okay.” Y/N reassured him.

“Sorry for barging in here like that.” Adley apologized. “You don’t have to apologize.” Y/N told him. “I’m sorry about the music. Gunnar kept turning it up.” Y/N apologized. “It’s okay. This ain’t the first time I’ve been woken up by Gunnar’s music.” Adley told her with a small sigh. “Yeah, as much as I love my little bro he can sometimes be hard to live with.” Y/N told him which made Adley let out a small laugh.

“Do you want some pancakes?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone as she walked over to the stove carring the bowl that had the pancake batter in. “Sure.” Adley said with a nod. Y/N gave him a small smile and started to pour some of the batter into the big pan with a spoon. As Y/N cooked the pancakes Adley walked over to the kitchen island and took a seat down onto one of the chairs. As she cooked Adley would glance over at her. He didn’t notice that he was just staring at her till Gunnar walked in caring a grocery bag that has a carton of milk in it.

“I’m back.” Gunnar said. “Hey sleepy head.” Gunnar said walking over to Adley and roughing up his messy brunette hair with his empty hand. Adley rolled his eyes as he pushed Gunnar’s arm away. “I hope my annoying sister didn’t bother you while I was gone.” Gunnar said in a teasing tone. “Oh shut up and put the milk in the fridge.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “Geez so mean.” Gunnar said pulling the milk out of the bag and walked over to the fridge. Y/N rolled her eyes as Gunnar opened the fridge and put the milk in it.

After Y/N finished making enough pancakes for herself and the boys they sat down at kitchen island together. As they ate Y/N and Gunnar told Adley stories about them growing up together. Adley also got to know Y/N as well.

———————————————

As the days passed and the more Adley has gotten to know Y/N he’s realized that he is falling for Y/N. And he knows that he’s not just falling for any girl, no! He’s falling for his best friend’s sister. He’s falling for Gunnar’s older sister.

When Adley’s around Y/N he just can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach. When they lock eyes Adley feels his heart rate speed up. He loves hearing her talk with her southern Alabama accent that matches Gunnar’s.

Adley knows that he’s falling head over heels for her and some times he feels like she feels the same way but sometimes he thinks that it’s all in his head. But that’s not his biggest worry. His biggest worry is what Gunnar will think. Would he freak out if he finds out that his best friend likes his sister? Even though Y/N is the older sibling he can tell that Gunnar is very over protective of her. Adley wants to tell Gunnar about what he’s been feeling but he’s worried about what his reaction would be.

———————————————

It was a Saturday night and the Orioles had an early game win so to celebrate some players game to Adley and Gunnar’s house. Y/N sat in the backyard with her brother and his teammates. Since there was a fire pit in the backyard Gunnar put some firewood in the pit and started a bomb fire so everyone sat around the fire just having some drinks and talked. As time passed some guys left one by one. Once the last teammate left Gunnar called it a night for himself since he was exhausted so he went inside to his room leaving Y/N and Adley alone by the bomb fire.

There was a comfortable silence between the two till Y/N broke it. “I enjoyed watching you play. You sure know how to put on a damn good show.” Y/N told him which made Adley blush. He was hoping that Y/N didn’t notice. “Thanks.” Adley said with a smile. “I’m glad I took this trip. Really has helped me get my mind a reset.” Y/N told him. “Gunnar told me that you recently just got out of a relationship.” Adley said in a soft voice. “Yeah.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“What happened?” Adley asked in a curious tone. “If you don’t mind me asking.” Adley quickly added. “It’s okay. You’re good.” Y/N reassured him which made him relax. “It all started two months ago when my ex boyfriend kept accusing me of cheating on which I wasn’t and just after we celebrated our one year anniversary I caught him in bed with a girl who was at the time a good friend to me.” Y/N told him which broke his heart to hear. “Damn. That’s fucked up.” Adley said with a hint of anger in his voice. “Turns out he had been cheating on me for months and was just accusing me of cheating so I would break up with him.” Y/N said with a heavy sigh as she stared down at her hands that were resting on her lap. “What a dick move.” Adley said in disgust. “It was a fucking cowardly move.” Y/N added with another sigh.

“You don’t need people like that in your life.” Adley told her. “They didn’t deserve to have you in their life. Especially that douchebag.” Adley added which made her look up at him. “Really?” Y/N asked him. “Y/N, you are a beautiful and an amazing girl.” Adley started to tell her as they locked eyes. “The perfect guy is out there for you. He’s waiting for you and he’s going to make you forget all about that asshole.” Adley told her with a warm smile. “Thanks Adley, I’ll remember that.” Y/N said returning the smile.

Adley knew that he was talking about himself being the guy but he was wondering if Y/N knew that he was the one he was talking about.

———————————————

Ever since that night by the bomb fire Adley and Y/N have become so close that for the rest of her visit she always wanted to be around him and just talking to him. It made both of them sad when Y/N had to leave to go back to Alabama. Before Y/N got on her plane she promised that she’ll keep in touch with him.

Gunnar was driving his car with Adley in the passenger seat driving his car back to their house. “You have a feelings for Y/N, don’t you?” Gunnar asked him which took Adley by surprise. He didn’t know what to say so he just stayed quiet. “It’s okay if you do.” Gunnar told him with a reassuring smile which made Adley’s nerves relax. “Yeah, she’s just everything that I look for in a girl.” Adley told him. It felt so good for him to finally say this out loud to someone.

“I know my sister better than anyone so I know that she definitely feels the same way.” Gunnar told him giving him a quick glance. “But just because I’m your best friend doesn’t mean that I won’t kick your ass if you break her heart.” Gunnar added in a stern tone. Adley let out a small laugh. He knew that was coming. “You have my word cowboy.” Adley said looking at him. Gunnar couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Adley’s nickname he gave him.

[hadesoftheladies]

women's sports is one of the loudest and most successful anti-patriarchy campaigns in human history. what women's sports did and does is prove, over and over again, the excellence, the raw power and strength of the human woman. it completely disrupts ideas on gender.

you have big, powerful women in rugby. fast, endurable women runners. impeccably strong gymnasts. women with strong, large bodies that take up space. that are HEALTHY. they are not RESTRICTED or ladylike. they are free of the stillness/deadness that femininity demands. no corsets. no (aesthetic) thinness. no hourglass bodies for gawking. women's sports screams to society "we are fully human, not objects, not small men. we are not domestic dolls. we are hunters and foragers. fighters."

why do you think men are so vitriolic about it? why don't they want women in football? why don't they want it televized? why do they keep harassing female basketball players? why do they insist on dressing women in sexualized uniforms? why do they now make it taboo to exculde men from women's sports?

i firmly believe it's because women's sports tears patriarchal gender ideology apart so effortlessly. it completely spits in the face of patriarchal political propaganda and shows how null it is. it forces all of us to view women as full, as the beginning of human excellence, as central to human history. not as decorative sexual objects, no matter how men want us to be.

that's why there's so much aggression and derision when it comes to women's sports from men. because women's sports destroys the idea of femininity and depicts women as non-derivative. women must be monsters and cannot afford to play into the childlikeness that femininity demands. the arena of sports forces us to focus on women's physical performance rather than appearance. their strength rather than how attractive they are. their skill and strategy. their humanity. it is a form of entertainment where all female roles are agentive and active rather than passive.

women's sports events are also hotbeds for female and lgb solidarity like you have no idea!

y'all need to start watching women's sports. not only because it is exciting, but it deprograms the patriarchal bullshit out of you so fast. you realize how much is possible. how much we can all achieve right now.

[f0point5]

The way this man is the Main Character of this sport without actually putting in any effort needs to be studied

[bunnys-kisses]

the group chat (charles' version)

charles leclerc

cw: smut/pwp, filming, sub!charles, collars, oral sex (cunnilingus), pussy drunk!charles,

want a different driver? here's the full selection!

it was the morning after the 2024 monaco grand prix, while most were up early to get ready to catch flights. no one expected to hear from the winner of the race, charles leclerc.

around nine in the morning a notification popped up from the group chat. most ignored it, thinking it was someone bitching about something while on an overpriced private jet. but for the curious few who opened the file, they were greeted to something else.

you held the camera, while you were laid out on the expensive hotel bed. you made a soft moaning noise when charles used your thighs to gain leverage to move in between your legs.

he rested his head on your abdomen, he looked freshly showered but there was a little glimmer of gold in the frame. when he moved himself up, the camera caught the red leather of a collar around the grand prix winner's throat.

"you look so good, charles." you reached out for him and he rested against your palm for a moment.

his tongue darted out to lick his lips, he looked visibly calm like he had done this a million times. his hands were spread across your thighs.

"thank you, ma'am." he replied. oh, well, that was revelation about the ferrari driver.

"why did you want me to film this again? you're not a sick little freak, are you? you're a good boy for me?"

he scratched his neck nervously and beamed at your praise, "i thought it would be a little something for the others." while most would've filmed their partner performing acts on them, charles wanted to see the magic he could pull.

he was, after all, a good boy.

you pinched his cheek playfully and he chuckled, "anything you'd like to say to the boys who are watching this video?"

there was a gleam in his eyes as he said, "i'm going to show you how to really pleasure a woman. and i'm talking particularly to you, max." then smiled with all of his teeth before he kissed your inner thigh.

you moaned at the tenderness, it shot heat through you body. charles was considerate like that, he honestly preferred to make you finish over him. you kept the camera steady on him as he got your legs over his shoulders.

he looked up at the camera for a moment and gave a smirk to it before he closed his eyes and trailed his tongue across your cunt. you were already soaked, before you started recording he had spent about fifteen minutes slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your sex.

you felt your breath hitch as you felt the heat curl in your body. you did your best to keep the camera trained on charles as he continued to lap at your sex like a hungry dog. there was nothing else on his mind, he wanted to make sure his girlfriend got all the pleasure she needed.

he pushed his hair back for a moment and panted, you could see the sweat on his neck and forehead. it was getting heated in the room, the intimacy between you two was like being near a campfire, the heat traveled through your bodies.

"you're such a good boy, charles. you did so good for me." you praised as you combed your fingers through his hair.

he seemed visibly relaxed, like this was the kind of headspace he wanted to be in. he yearned for your praise, it lit a fit in his stomach and made his bare cock twitch against the bed spread.

that'll be dealt with after the video ended.

for now he was to be between your legs, lapping at your poor pussy with such vigor that it made your heart beat in your ears. you softly moaned and panted, you felt hot to the touch.

he pulled his mouth away, his pupils were larger and his cheeks were pink. his chin glistened with your wetness in the low light of the hotel room. he looked already like the pleasure had overridden his brain.

you knew his cock was aching by this point. he rubbed your clit with his thumb and panted. between pants he said, "i love being your good boy." he swallowed, "no higher honor." then gave a pleased smile.

you reached for him and combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the wet strands between your digits, "you just want to show the others how messy you can get, huh? show them how good you are for me?"

he nodded before he kissed your pussy before he went back to orally pleasuring you. he felt a shiver through his body was he pressed your thighs against his head and groaned against your pussy.

praise came off your tongue easily. there was something about seeing such a high profile man be so dedicated to getting you off. sex was like another sport, with another prize. and he was dedicated to coming in first. his noises were loud and sloppy, his devoured your cunt like a man with a single minded purpose.

you gripped onto his hair and the phone as he continued his motions across your clit. the heat in his cheeks only rose the more he became obsessed with your pussy. he was almost drunk on you, his head swam.

heavy breathing filled the air and your shifted a little bit. this caused him to plant both hands on your hips to keep you down. he pulled his mouth away once more and swallowed, he looked at you and said, "i can't let you do that, madame."

he leaned in and his tongue was heavy once more on your pussy. he was slobbering like a dog as he took his fill of your sweet cunt. it was hard for you to keep you composure as you felt the heat radiate through your body.

you continued to film him as you felt closer to your orgasm. it thrummed through your body as you laid under him. he was happily lapping at your pussy, maybe the collar was a good choice for a hound like him. he kept his hands splayed out on your thighs and he really worked your pussy.

"charles."

he looked up at him and you could see the gleam of your wetness on the tip of his nose. he panted against your clit, his hot breath against your wet pussy. it made you groan and him chuckle.

he loved the sight of you, the taste of you. it instilled a feeling of pride in his chest. he was a good boy.

you held onto him tightly as he pushed you past your peak. over the sound of his mouth against your clit was the sound of your loud moan as you climaxed.

"shit, charles." you panted wildly as you curled your toes and tensed up. you soon relaxed, the phone almost tumbling out of your hand. you groaned, "holy shit, charles."

"of course, mon amour." he pulled away and swallowed, he looked like he was out of his mind at that moment. he wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth and gave a sloppy grin, "th..that felt good." he rubbed his painfully erect cock onto the bed.

you patted his cheek lovingly, his collar gleamed in the light, "now why don't i send this video and we can work on you next."

charles basked in your affection as he said, "oui, madame."

the video ended, and charles send the video after you rode his cock. after he sent the file he attached an additional message that said, "jealous?"

[knox-knocks]

Maybe exy is a little boring to him — but andrew doesn’t just not care about exy, neil notes in the beginning of tfc that he seems to outright resent it. boredom doesn’t bring about resentment. but do you know what does? the idea that a sport you barely give a shit about is the only reason anyone gives a shit about you

[lw6xwoso]

Lucky | Leah Williamson

Looking after a drunk Leah

Warnings:none really suggestive? Fluff

You set down your plate, eyebrows furrowing. “Leah?” You call out, walking towards the kitchen door. “Hey, who's there?” Leah stumbled in. Tripping over her own two feet. Her hair was messy, strands falling down from her ponytail wind blown, and her shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing off her collarbones. “Well well, it seems like someone had far too much to drink.” You tease, reaching for her hand. She lets you grab it, eyebrows furrowing eyes raking over your body.

You suddenly remember what you were wearing. Tight shorts that rolled over your soft thighs and one of Leahs tank tops, with no bra. She was very tall, so you always rolled the shirt right above your waist. You noticed her tongue roll over her lips, smirking. “So, by any chance.. Do you have a girlfriend?” Leah leaned forward, taking a bite of the toast on your plate shovelling it into her mouth. “Leah,” You burst out laughing, leaning forward into the table.

“What? Youre like…really fucking hot. Really.” She watched you take a bite of the same toast. “We have been together for 4 years now, god how much have you had to drink?” You shake your head. “I'm not drunk at all.” She slurred the last part. “And we are together? No fucking way.” She smiled to herself like she won an award. “Yeah! Look.” You shove your phone in her face, showing her your lock screen. It was Leah smiling and you kissing her cheek with a beautiful pink-ish sunset in the background

“Im a veeery lucky geezer then, you’re quite hot.” Leah’s eyes closed. You shook your head an amused smile playing on your lips. “Let's get you cleaned up.” You pull her up, dragging her to the bathroom like a lost puppy. She leans against the counter, watching you as you walk around the bedroom, grabbing her some fresh clothes. “Here.” You set them down, working the buttons on her shirt.

“Woah, woah, woah. You haven't even kissed me yet.” She frowned as she shrugged her shirt off “Just put these on. I’ll kiss you after this.” You urged, putting toothpaste on her toothbrush. “Are you saying my breath stinks?” She threw on her arsenal shirt, one hand snaking around your waist. “Yes, Leah, totally.” You roll your eyes, sarcasm lacing your voice. She finished up, arms wrapped around you. “I never got my kiss.” She squeezed the fat of your hips. You turn around quickly, pulling her down from the nape

She prodded her tongue in your mouth almost immediately, her kiss full of lust and excitement. Her hands traveled to your ass, hands massaging you softly. “Oh, im really fucking lucky.” She pulled away, pushing you against the bed. “Wanna show me how lucky?” Was all she needed to hear before she was quick to pounce on you kissing you again. 

[buzzinrusso]

FIRSTS

Genre: smut

This isn't very good as it is rushed and english is not my first language

Prompt: where you visit Jenni in Mexico for the first time.

You knew it from the moment that you spotted you girlfriend in the crowded airport.

The look she gave you as you ran into her arms was not only a look on happiness but a look of 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 and 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵.

"Te voy a follar muy bien cuando lleguemos a casa." She whispered. That statement alone, along with the looks she gave you made you very, very horny.

On the drive to her home, her tattooed hands that you loved her much, sometime too much, always rested on your thigh.

a lot of firsts occurred in your life. Your first time driving a car, your first time drinking, your first kiss, your first time... But you will always remember this first.

The first time you went to Mexico to see jenni.

Her nonchalant act quickly disappeared as the both of you made your way into her home.

She immediately slammed you against the now closed door that you walked into seconds ago, and started to plant needy kisses on your lips, her hands finding you ass and squeezing it hard as your hands wrapped around her neck to pull her closer.

"I missed you so much, bébé " she mumbled hurriedly as she went back to kissing you as you started to lightly grind you hips against hers.

"Fuck, jenni" you moaned as you felt her lip go down to your neck and start sucking on your sweet spot.

She tapped her finger twice on your thigh which made you quickly jump up and circle your thighs around her as she carried you to the bedroom.

She pushed you down onto the bed and quickly went in to her closet ; your eyes widened when you saw the huge purple strap that was now harnessed around her naked hips.

She made her way to your lying figure on the bed with a cocky smirk, just as she reached the edge of the bed, she started kissing you feverishly.

Her hands made their way to the hem of your shirt , pulling it up and off of you, smiling as she was met with your naked boobs.

"No bra? " she questioned while raising a brow.

"Didn't bother. "

She immediately got to work and started kissing your chest , sucking on your nipple while toying with the other one, all as you tried to get some friction by squeezing your thighs together.

"Your so fucking pretty, " Jenni said in between kisses as she trailed away from your boobs and to where you needed her most.

She unbuckled your shorts, slid them off along with your underwear and threw them off the bed to lie with your discarded shirt on the floor.

"So wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet. "

"I'm always this wet for you Jenni. " you simply stated facts as those words hurriedly spilled out of your mouth.

She continued to kiss down you boy and Just before her lips made contact with your glistening folds, she pulled away making you let out a long drawn whine from your lips.

"Relax bonita, you're going to get what you want. " she told you as she finally began teasing your folds with the tip of her strap .

You let out breathy moans as you felt her slightly dip in the tip of it before quickly pulling it out and resuming her teasing like it was nothing .

You were going crazy with every little touch she granted your naked body, with every little inhale and exhale she did and the words she said. She was quite literally driving you insane.

Then, She unexpectedly shoved half of the strap into you ,making you let out a 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 loud moan that echoed along the wall of the room.

"That's it baby. Take it like a good girl " she said as she watched your pussy greedily take the strap in inch by inch .

You let out a moan at the praises that left her mother as you finally fully took in all 10 inches of her strap or as she liked to call it, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"Such a good girl form my, mi amor." She finally began to pound into you, just like you wanted her to.

The only sound that was heard in the room was the sound of skin against skin and your loud moans along with jenni's slight grunts as the harness hit her clit directly.

Her hand reached down to rub you clit as she continued to repeatedly pound in and out of your tight hole.

The extra friction she gave your puffy bud was a lot to handle along with her large strap pounding into you.

"Jenni,gonna cum. " was all you were able to get out in between heavy breaths.

"Wait for me mi Amor. " she said as she leaned down to connect your lips to each other .

They moulded to get her perfectly as always.

"Yeah, you like my cock don't you? ".

The reply you gave her was moaning her name.

"Jenni, Jenni, Jenni. " you moaned her name like it was prayer falling from your lips. "Cum in me please. "

"Cum for me. "

You let out a moan that mixed with jenni's own moan as you both came together, she kept pushing in and out for you both to ride out your highs .

A few second later, she pulled out slowly and started to plant sweet kisses on your neck, face and lips.

"You did so well mi vida. "

Just after s couple of minutes of you both laying on the bed, Jenni started to miss down your neck again. "Don't start something you can't finish hermoso. "

"Who says I can't finish? " she said with a smirk as her lips trailed down.

[inkdrinkerworld]

𝓒𝓤𝓟𝓘𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓤𝓡𝓢𝓔

Synopsis: James can make your days trying to get a story for your company really hard, he gets under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to poke and you hate it.

cw: a bit of an axious!reader, rugby!james, i used the house names for the clubs but it is not at all set in the HP universe.

wc: 1.1k

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Sports journalism is fun and rewarding. 

You love going to the post and pre-match interviews and talking to the players and managers and getting all the insight you can to then write your story. What you don’t like is having to interview James Potter. 

Everytime James sees you in the press room, he decides it’s his time to be the most non-descriptive, non-responsive to all of your questions and make it difficult for you to even write a story. He loves giving you vague answers that don’t answer any of your questions and it gets under your skin like nothing else. 

It’s even more tiresome when he’s the team’s go to media-man because of his looks. He’s England’s current heartthrob first and their best flanker second. He’s beefy and burly, with curls that look like they’ve been ink dipped individually and dimples that throw a wrench into many a woman’s plan. It also doesn’t help you, mostly, that he’s the perfect gentleman the minute the cameras are on and everything he says takes on this sugary, colying tone.

Dread fills you as you walk into the media room, finding a few familiar faces before you sit to the back. You hope in vain that James isn’t on media today, maybe they’ll put his sweet teammate Remus on media duty. He’s always sweet and succinct, answering all the questions, no matter how ridiculous, with a grace and precision you suspect makes him perfect for being the team’s fly-half. 

You’d even interview his rowdy teammate Sirius, possibly the best winger in the game right now, and endure his loudness and even his flirtations with the camera so long as you just got good answers. 

Your hope is shattered when you hear James talking as he rounds the corner, your hands grow cold knowing that today is the day you write a half decent story about the Gryffindor team. 

“Morning,” he calls as he enters, his eyes find you immediately and the smile he shoots you makes you scowl. It’s going to be a long press day. “It’s great to be back.” 

“How have you and your team prepared for the start of the season? Knowing it’s a derby game must make it all the more exciting to be back.” One journalist starts, sweat already pebbling on your brow. 

James answers perfectly, in depth and with the knowledge that you sometimes forget these players possess. 

“What about the injured players from last season? Can we look out for their names on the starting squad? What sort of system can we look forward to this season?” You ask, hands shaking as you prepare for the worst. You hate how much anxiety courses through you nowadays in these interviews. They used to be far more fun. 

“I can’t well say what we’re going to play this weekend, it’d be a bit of a helping hand to the Slytherin team.” The media room laughs and you have to bite your tongue to keep the scowl off your face. “However, we’ve got a lot of key players back in the squad, so I’ll say keep your ears open for some names you haven’t heard in a couple months.” 

By the time you’re finished with the conference, you’ve got sufficient answers for the hopes of the beginning of the season but every other question was bypassed or you’d received a roundabout answer. 

You’re picking up all your equipment, the other journalists all gone already. James hovers near the door, watching you for whatever reason but it makes your skin crawl. He has to know what he’s done. 

“Can I help you, Potter?” You ask, lifting your head to catch a peek at him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the doorframe, something sort of like a smile on his face. 

“Just waiting for you to be done. Wouldn’t feel right to just leave you in here alone.” There’s a bit of sincerity but mostly amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. James laughs and pushes off the door frame moving towards you, “All done?” you huff and sigh, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and walking past him. 

“Have a good training session, James.” he nods, watching you go with a smile on his face, one that spreads bigger when your perfume lingers in the room after you. 

-

When you hit submit on your report you feel good but stressed. 

What usually takes you an hour and a half to get done, took you twice as long because reports have been so slow during the off-season that you wanted to get it perfect before the opening match. Stretching, you make your way into the kitchen. 

You’re sure half the worry was unnecessary and the other half was about impressing your boss. God knows you need that woman to be pleased with something you do this year. 

Your phone rings before you can give in to that anxiety inducing thought, your stomach pits and the cup of tea you had to your lips lower. “This is Y/n.” 

“Hi, I want to talk about the interview you just submitted,” Your boss is a bit of a hardass. She’s always harping about things being ‘perfect’ and stories being complete, so in the two years you’ve worked there, though you’ve climbed to higher and higher positions, you’re still the fresh and sort of peppy girl you were to her when you’d handed in your resume and appeared in her office in a blue suit. 

“Sure,” you set down the tea and open your laptop, ready for a slew of changes or to change whatever she wanted you to. 

“It’s great,” that’s high praise, yet you sense something in her tone. You’re almost certain she’s going to make you rewrite the entire thing to make the opening game of the season, a derby game no less, seem even more anticipated than it already is. “I just want you to add a little more about the history of both teams. Potter’s already brought in an influx of new fans, we want to make it easy for them to get into the season and get behind either team and feel the rivalry.” 

That’s not what you’d been expecting. Not what you were expecting in the least. 

“I’ll resubmit tonight by eight.” is what you say but inside you’re twirling and jumping around your apartment while morning sun streaks through your living and early 2000s pop music is blasting through the house. 

James Potter and his non-answers be damned, you just got the best compliment of your work life.

[sports-on-sundays]

Okay so 🤭 what if Y/N use to be with ( whatever Barca player you choose ) and they broke it off because they supposedly wanted to focus on their career and the reader was really heartbroken and omg to make it more better y/n is Carlos sister and then she sees or hear how they moved on already! And little by little she starts to be with lando and they announce their relationship when he wins in Miami!! Like full on hard launch. 😭🙌🏽

Also this got me motivated to think of more ideas ima write them down for the future 🤭

papaya girl / LN4

Summary: ex!Ferran x Sainz!baker!reader x Lando - After a devastating breakup with your footballing boyfriend, you think you'll never be able to date someone again.

Warnings: there's a golf scene and I don't golf so-!🤞, mention of sickness, foul language, sorry if some things are not accurate, headache, partying/dancing/drunkenness/clubbing, mention of getting so drunk you had no memory of what happened, implied getting drunk to dampen emotions, getting injured, vomiting, slight soulmate feel, a bit of suggestive talk, use of babe/baby/bae/baby girl/etc., I feel like every kiss I describe is exactly the same sooo- sorry about that! ✌

Requested?: YES! 😘

Author's Note: Do you ever write something so good that you wish you could make it into a movie? That's how I feel about this. I can imagine the scenes. Didn't plan it but I guess 24 is the magic number for this one. I made the request more dramatic because... I like doing that... 👉 👈 🥺 ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. PERFECT MIX OF ANGST AND FLUFF. I LITERALLY LOVE YOU! If you do have any more ideas and you're up for it, let me know!

When you met Ferran Torres, you were a Madridista with a passion for Ferrari. Being a Sainz, you've always been rooting for Real Madrid, but your favorite Formula 1 team isn't as consistent. Because before that, you were a McLaren fan. And before that, Red Bull. And everything else before that, too.

Wherever Carlos is, you're a fan of it.

You, quite literally, on the day you met Ferran, were wearing a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey and a backwards Ferrari cap.

And, well, he, a new arrival from Manchester City, liked that, apparently!

And it was beautiful. They way you slowly became closer and closer, growing to know each other more and more.

And then, maybe you just hit a point. Hit a point in your relationship where you wanted more, and Ferran realized that if any more was given by him, it would be too far for him.

And he cut it off. Said he was doing well in Barcelona. He had high hopes. You, a sold out Madrid fan, had been wearing his number on the back of a blaugrana jersey. And despite that blaugrana jersey, he ditched you.

He said his work, his career, his passions, his dreams, were more important than you.

But you can't complain, Y/n. That's fair. He was gentle in letting you know. He made it clear he didn't want any malice between you and him.

You roll over in bed, staring vacantly at your wall. There's a large Real Madrid flag hanging in the middle. A smaller Ferrari flag on one side. A few posters of bands and teams you like or events you've been to, signed by different celebrities. People who are more famous than 'Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister' or 'Ferran Torres's ex-girlfriend.' On one side, it seems silly to have a poster signed by Max Verstappen, but you do. On the other side of the flag, you have a peeling old McLaren poster, showing the younger versions of Carlos and his former racing partner, Lando Norris, looking just seconds away from breaking into a loud, hysterical laughter.

And next to that, you have a Barcelona poster.

You smile sadly to yourself.

I must look like such a conflicted sports fan.

You stand up, walking over to the wall. After gently peeling the Barcelona poster off the wall, you slowly trace the badge with your fingers, any hint of a smile now gone as tears begin to fill your eyes, threatening to fall.

"This is stupid," you murmur scornfully, your voice cracking softly. "This isn't even my team! It's not my city...!" You toss the poster across the room, leaving it in a place where you don't intend to pick it up anytime soon.

Let it gather dust and crumple. That's what Ferran did. He threw away our relationship like it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper. And now I'm suffering the consequences.

You sigh. You're trying not to let yourself be bitter. You want to look back on everything you and Ferran had and be happy. Appreciate it. You still love Ferran. You don't want to be angry with him.

Someone said to you once, Hurt heals with time, as long as you let it.

You grab a bold, red Sharpie from your drawer and your notebook from a dresser. You scribble those words in all caps, rip out the page, grab some tape, and hang the piece of paper where the FC Barcelona poster used to be.

You sigh, but nod, before turning to get ready for your day.

You hate winter. You never hated winter before this winter, but now you hate it.

With the breakup, you've been avoiding anything La Liga like the plague, even if it doesn't involve Ferran Torres. It just reminds you too much.

And with Carlos on winter break, getting ready for the start of the season, he's not around much. Going on different trips, he's quite busy. Which you don't like. You and your brother have a strong bond.

It's not like you don't have anything to do. You just don't have anything interesting to do. You have a shop that you run, but you have enough staff hired to not have to be there all the time.

Yes, in a family of racing, you were never too into it. Your strong spot is in baking and business running, so that's why you opened up a bakery in Madrid.

And being a Sainz, of course it was a success.

Same type of thing as Charles Leclerc's 'LEC,' except you're not the racing driver Charles Leclerc, you're not doing ice cream, and you've always been doing this, for five years now.

You watch as a young, excited couple walks in, jabbering away in English. You can just tell they're tourists as they get in line to order. Once they get to the counter, the woman immediately leans over the counter in excitement, saying, "Is Carlos Sainz here?" in English.

You chuckle. Sounds American. "Which Carlos Sainz?" you tease.

They look blankly at you as if you're just about the dumbest individual to walk planet Earth. You chuckle and say, "Why don't you get to ordering? There's a line."

Towards the afternoon, as things begin to quiet down just a little bit, you look up at the doorbell jingles and freeze.

When he reaches the counter, you snap at Ferran, "Why are you in Madrid?"

"Am I not allowed to be? Either way, hello to you, too."

You sigh, licking your lips as you study the Valencian boy. "What can I get for you?"

He shrugs and orders, before seating himself down at one of the seats at the counter. "How have you been, Y/n?" he asks.

"Fine," you swallow, staring down. "And you?"

"I'm good." From there, he begins just talking, as if we're old friends or something, and not exes.

He seems so happy. So content.

To not be with you.

Suddenly, mid-way through one of his many sentences, you slip your hand over his, almost on impulse. He stops, staring to your hands, and then to you.

You breathe softly, "Why? Why did you come here to just talk to me? Aren't you moved on? Ferran, this is torture for me."

Lines crease into his face. You can see him swallow, looking at your smaller hand on his. "I'm... I'm sorry. I am moved on. I'm doing well. I just thought maybe we could be friends. I'd never want to date you again; I'm not in the place to date anyone. I'm happy single. But I just feel bad. I know you're hurt, and... I'd be happy to still be friends with you, is all?" He slips his hand out from underneath yours and takes his cup of coffee with it, taking a sip as he watches you intently.

You drag a hand over your face. Though you didn't want to admit it, seeing him come in to the bakery gave you hope. That maybe he wanted to try again. But those words that came out of his mouth? They cut deep.

"Listen, Ferran," you barely whisper. "I'm still trying to work through what happened. Everything. It's hard for me. But I appreciate it, and when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready, I'd love to be your friend. O- Okay?"

He nods slowly, staring down. "Alright... Fair enough."

"What's wrong?" your older brother, Carlos, asks. You watch outside the window as the world travels by.

You sigh. "Ferran."

"Him, again?"

"Carlos," you sigh. "Stop. It's nothing new. I'm just missing him. He wants to stay friends, but I said I needed time."

"Ah. Well, you know, I did tell you never to date-"

"-a Barcelona player. I know," you roll your eyes with a little smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Hurt heals with time, as-"

"-long as you let it. I know," you comment, smiling a bit wider.

"Exactly. It'll come."

You sigh. "I hope so."

As Carlos pulls into the parking lot, you say, "So. Is that why you decided to take me golfing with your friends? Just wanted to check up on me, but you never have the time to sit down over dinner these days?"

Carlos smiles as he shuts off the car. "No. I could have made time. But I wanted your company golfing."

"You know I'm not big on g-"

"Shut up," he grins. "Yes you are."

"I suck."

"Not as bad as some people I know. In fact, you're actually pretty okay."

Soon, you meet up with a bunch of Carlos's friends. They're all chatting, and you're just kind of zoning off, looking out over the grassy hills, when suddenly you look up when Carlos says, "Ay! Lando!"

You blink in complete and utter shock. "Why is Lando Norris here?"

As Lando approaches, he eyes you, saying teasingly, "Well, thank you for the warm welcome, Y/n Sainz."

"Lando was just around, so he made the drive to meet us here," Carlos quickly fills in.

Soon, you're all off. After a round, as you're walking back to the cart to go get lunch, Carlos says, nudging Lando, "I think my baby sister is better than you."

Lando laughs. "You fucking muppet; what are you talking about?"

You grin, falling in step with Lando and Carlos. "I'm a better golfer."

"That is just wrong," Lando says, glancing at you. "Downright wrong."

"It's a Sainz thing," Carlos puts in. "There's no way for you to beat us, Lando. You can't. Winning runs in the family."

Lando rolls his eyes, reiterating, "Your baby sister is not better than me."

"You have no right to call me a baby," you put in indignantly. "I'm probably older than you."

Lando looks at you, his nose all scrunched up. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Hah! Same age."

"That still doesn't mean you get to call me a baby!"

"Her birthday is in January; different year than Lando's. Lando, you can call her a baby; you're older," Carlos says.

"Carlos!" you snap. "Don't give him permission!"

Carlos grins and shakes his head as he breaks off to chat with some of his other friends and get on the cart with them.

Lando grins, giving a discreet pat on your lower back as he murmurs, "Sorry, baby."

And for some reason, that makes you feel things. You decide to blame it on the fact that Lando's just good-looking.

Once you're all seated down with your lunch, you comment, "So what's with the whole..." your hand goes to your chin, referring to his facial hair, as you look at Lando expectantly.

Lando slams down his fork, saying lightheartedly, "Sick of people asking me that!"

You smirk. "Makes you look like you're forty."

"Whatever, baby."

"You know, I have a picture on my wall of you and Carlos when you were just babies, too."

As soon as Lando raises an eyebrow with a smirk, you know it was a mistake to word it that way. "You have a picture of me and Carlos on your wall?" he asks, mock condescendingly.

"No, no. I mean, I do, but- It's just an old McLaren poster." You immediately look down.

"What, are you a fan of mine?" Lando teases further.

"No! I'm a fan of Carlos, and you just so happened to be his teammate at that time. The point is that you two look like pipsqueaks in that photo! Lando, you looked so awkward, with all your acne-"

"What, Lando, you think she's a McLaren fan? She's sold out for Ferrari," Carlos interrupts.

"Literally! I deck myself out in red every Sunday!"

"Today's Sunday," Lando starts like the stupid idiot he is, "And I don't see you wearing red."

You groan, leaning back, covering your face in your hands. "Carlos, how are you this guy's friend? He's so annoying! Why'd you invite him for? How do you put up with him?"

Carlos just smirks, patting your shoulder, and says, "I'm used to having to put up with irritable people, after having to grow up with you."

You roll your eyes, fighting off a smile as all the guys around you at the table laugh out loud.

On the car ride back, you're mostly silent, your thoughts swimming with one thing and one thing only.

Lando Norris.

And there's a soft smile on your face as you think about your morning with him.

But Carlos can tell you're deep in thought. Usually, you'd be yapping away right now. "Anything on your mind?" he asks carefully.

You sigh. "Not much."

"You're bad at lying. You're staring out the window dreamily. What's on your mind?"

You sigh. "It's stupid. You'll make fun of me."

"I'm not stupid, though. I can already guess what it is."

You gulp. "How?"

"For the whole day, the only person you talked to was Lando."

You feel your stomach drop. "It's nothing serious, Carlos. He's just funny."

"You said something like that to me about Ferran Torres right before you officially started dating."

That makes you feel a bit sick. "Carlos, I won't let that happen again."

"Don't. And don't be getting interested in anyone until you're over your ex. And we both know you're not. And please don't be getting interested in someone like Lando."

"Why?" You eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought you two were buddies."

Carlos grins teasingly. "If you somehow got yourself with him, there would always be two annoying people in one place."

"You're intolerable!" you snap, laughing.

"You are too, hermana."

It strikes Carlos as strange when the first thing Lando says to him the weekend of Bahrain, before even a hello, is: "Is your sister here?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Lando shrugs. "She's nice."

"No... She'll be coming to Australia, though..." Carlos can't help but feel suspicion fill his chest. He's always been somewhat protective of you, being his little sister and all.

"Perfect," Lando grins, and he's off.

In Australia, like any other race, you're decked out in your red. Ferrari hat, Ferrari jacket, red jeans. Ferrari earrings. Even your black shoes have a stripe of red on the sides.

Carlos always tells you it's dumb. But it's become a part of your whole thing, since you spend a huge amount of your life following Carlos around and going to Grand Prixs.

It's fun sometimes, being Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister!

But when you see a shock of papaya in your red world called Ferrari's hospitality, you squint, slipping your sunglasses up on your hat, and say, "Who said you could walk in like that uninvited?"

"No one," Lando grins, "but I'm only here to see you."

Your eyebrows raise as you stand up. "Wha-"

"Come with me. I'm going to barf if I have to breathe Ferrari air any longer. Just your terrible get-up is making me nauseous. I guess I'll be free from seeing that stupid outfit next year when Carlos isn't in Ferrari-"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, but follow him with a grin on your face.

"So you broke up with your Barcelona man?" Lando start, cutting straight to the chase.

"Uh-" you swallow. "He broke up with me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You're not sure why Lando wants to know, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to know, but still you say, "We had been dating for a while, you know? I wanted something more. You know, to go deeper. Someday, I'd love to even maybe get married. But, Ferran... well, he didn't want to go the step deeper. Said he wanted to focus on his career. He broke it off. We're on fine terms, though."

"Ah..." he nods slowly. "That sounds like a tough breakup."

"Yeah... Yeah, it was."

He continues nodding, and catches your eye before saying, "So I'm assuming you want to... you know, you won't be up for any more relationships any time soon? Lot to work through?"

You suddenly feel your face begin to heat up. "Uh, well- depends on who it is, I suppose," you blurt without thinking.

"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, considering the fact that your face is just about as red as that Ferrari hat on your head, I'm wondering what you think of me."

You swallow, feeling even more embarrassed. "Are you suggesting...?"

"If you're up for it, the night after the Grand Prix, you can meet me at my hotel room, and we'll go from there. Text me if you decide 'yes,' for the details."

"I don't have your numb-"

He gives a cute little smile and opens his hand to reveal a folded up piece of paper. "Now you do. See you later, Miss Sainz!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as he jogs off.

"Oh my God, Carlos! Well done! So well done! Oh my God!" you scream in the midst of your strings of excited swear words, in both Spanish and English. "Did you actually just win the Australian Grand Prix?!"

He grins as he kisses your cheek, patting your back and saying, "Yes, I actually just did."

You hug your older brother tight, resting your head on his shoulder. "Love you. You did amazing. After everything you've been through. You're going to be leaving Ferrari next season and with your surgery and everything and-"

He smiles a bit. "Want to let me go now? Can't squeeze me too tight, remember?"

"So you can drive a race car and win the race, but you're too fragile for me to hug you!" you laugh, but release him from the hug.

He laughs out loud. "Yes, pretty much."

Hours later, you stand in the lit, mostly empty hallway, knocking on the white-painted door. You've change out of your Ferrari red head-to-toe fit, and are now wearing a black t-shirt with the F1 logo in red on the left side, black sweatpants, and your hair held back by a headband.

Lando probably isn't here, you think as you wait. I look so stupid. He doesn't care as much as he acts like he does. He's probably out partying or something. He got a podium. Carlos won. There's no way he's just sitting around in his hotel room-

You look up in surprise as the door clicks and swings open to reveal Lando Norris standing before you.

You beam and say a bit too loud, "Lando!"

He laughs. "Hey..." He's dressed in a white button down, dark blue jeans, and his regular assortment of jewelry. "Want to come in for a bit?"

You nod. "Were you... just out?" you ask slowly.

He chuckles again, plopping down on the sofa. "If I were just out, I wouldn't be looking this neat."

"Oh... Oh?"

"Come on. Sit down next to me," he encourages with a wave of his hand. "Something funny- I've had my eyes on you for a while now."

You look up in somewhat shock. "That's why you're so confident about this?"

"That, and that I'm just the peak of all confidence," he jokes, clearly mocking cockiness.

You roll your eyes.

"But really. I've been flirting with you for a while."

This time your eyes widen. "No way."

"Just little. I knew you were dating that Torres-"

"How?"

He smiles. "Doesn't take much to find out. Anyway, I think you just blocked it out because you were dating someone else. Shows you're a loyal girl."

"Hm..." you nod slowly. "I... I suppose...?"

Suddenly, he takes your hand in his. "So, you like me?"

"I think I have for a while. Like you said- I blocked it out because I was dating someone else." You didn't even know that until now, hearing the words coming from your mouth.

He smirks. "Even better. So..."

"Yeah?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes.

"I'd like to know what the hell you're wearing."

Suddenly, your face falls. "Uh- I'm sorry- I- I thought we- Um-"

Lando laughs. "Y/n! I'm teasing!"

"O- Oh!" you laugh nervously.

"I was just thinking... Maybe you'd want to go out and celebrate with me?"

"Oh-" you nod. "Right."

"So, do you want to get changed? I'll text you where we'll meet in a half hour?"

You grin, standing up. "Sounds good."

"See you then."

"Holy fuck, man," are Lando's first words when he sees you. You're wearing sunglasses, a form-fitting sequin shirt, and flattering white jeans.

"What?" you ask anxiously. "Is it too much?"

"Too much? Y/n, you're gorgeous."

You sigh in relief. "Alright good... And- one thing."

"Hm?" Lando asks, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know if we... could we say we're... that you're my..."

"Partner? Boyfriend?"

You swallow. "Sure. I think... I think I'm good with that. At least for tonight."

He nods.

"But let's not make it clear here. I don't want the way for everyone to find out about this being, you know, by nightclub pictures on the internet."

He smirks a bit, nodding. "Fair enough, then. Let's go."

"Rise and shine! Let's hit the grind, Y/n!" an unfamiliar voice wakes you up.

You roll over to see Lando's handsome face looking down at you. You're in his hotel room, in the one bed. He's all dressed and ready to go, and towering over you, looking like a giddy dog.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "I've got a killer headache. What happened last night." You feel disgusting, and wrinkle your nose as you get a whiff of the alcohol scent radiating off of you.

He grins. "I learned that you have no tolerance whatsoever."

You frown. "Unlike you, Norris, I'm not getting drunk all the time! Now, tell me what really happened!"

"Nothing much. Just a lot of fun," he sits down next to you, "and it's a shame that you can't remember any of it." He chuckles a bit, saying, "You got fucking wild. You were more fun though before you got absolutely drunk out of your wits."

"You didn't do anyth-"

"No, no!" he rolls his eyes. "Besides, Carlos was there. I wouldn't dare. You at least remember Carlos, right, being there?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, of course I do."

"But you really did completely black out? You don't remember anything?"

You swallow nervously. "No... I don't really remember anything... I mean, I guess..." You close your eyes, thinking hard. "Just dancing... music was super loud, but... that's not anything specific. I don't feel well at all now, though..." You start to feel a bit dizzy at the energy you're putting into trying to remember.

You open your eyes and look at Lando.

He smiles. "Well, it was fun, nothing more. Want me to bring you back to your hotel now?"

"Yeah, I guess..." you nod, cradling your head in your hands. "That'd be great..." You see the wine stain on your jeans. You can feel an ache in your ankle. You just need to clean yourself up.

Lando helps you limp to the car, assuring you that you just tripped. Saying your ankle is fine; it'll feel better in a few days' time.

You're not so sure.

As Lando drives, he knows he should tell you the details, like Carlos said.

But it still feels like you'd be better off not knowing at all.

Nine hours before

Though every single one of Lando's molecules in his body told him not to, he had to keep pushing you off. He sat talking away with some other dudes, and you sat his side, drunkenly trying to wrap your arms around him.

You blubbered softly about all kinds of stuff, a strange mixture of being utterly devastated and overly romantic.

Lando knew. You didn't get drunk this often.

A part of him felt bad. A huge part of him. He didn't think he had pressured you into anything. Certainly not intentionally. And you were the one who kept drinking more. But maybe he did...

Maybe it was his fault you were the mess you were now.

"Lando..." you murmured, your hand gripping his bicep. You leaned closer. "You're so sexy in that shirt." You reached over to unbutton another button of his shirt.

He gently pushed you away for the millionth time. "Remember, Y/n? You don't want anyone to know you're into me this much," he whispered lowly to you, running a hand through his hair. "Remember that, baby."

You pouted. "Ferran broke up with me and made me sad. Can't you make me happy now."

"Not now. I won't be doing anything when you're this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk..."

Lando snorted. "Whatever you say, lovely."

All was going as fine as it could be going. But then Carlos showed up. "Hey, Y/n-" he had started.

But you had interrupted him by slapping your hand on Lando's shoulder, leaning into it, and giggling giddily, "Look at this pretty boy."

Immediately, Carlos's eyes flashed with shock. And then vague panic. And then anger.

"Lando, how drunk did you get her?!" he snapped, raising his voice even more than he already was. The flashing lights on the Spanish man's face helped Lando's anxiety no more.

"I didn't get her drunk at all! I tried to stop h-"

"Yeah, fucking right. Come with me Lando-"

"No!" you had snapped, standing up to grab Lando's sleeve before your older brother could drag him away.

You were clearly biting back tears. "Lan didn't do anything..." You stumbled drunkenly into the British man, who steadied you gently, before helping you sit down again.

Carlos's face remained hard and steadied on Lando, but he spoke no words, as if he was battling in his head what to do.

Lando sighed. "Listen, Carlos. She won't remember any of this tomorrow morning. Let's just not bring this up again, yeah? It was a mistake. Stuff happens. She got wild and had one too many. We've all had those nights."

But Lando genuinely didn't think Carlos had had one of those nights before.

Lando certainly had, though.

"She deserves to know."

"Maybe she shouldn't, though. She's gone through a lot with her ex breaking up with her and everything. And I'm sure your career up in the air isn't helping her cause much, either. She loves you more than the world. And think about how worrying it was for her to see you go into surgery like that, and race right afterwards? The good emotions just hit her, man. But it's probably a lot. She's just going through a lot. She doesn't need the guilt of getting too drunk and acting a little stupid, yeah?" Lando ranted, intently studying the older Spaniard's eyes.

Carlos's eyes slowly softened. "Alright... I won't tell her what's happening once she's sober. Only if I can make a deal with you."

Lando bit his lip, running a hand through his messed up hair. "What is it?"

"I won't say a word to her, as long as you promise to stay away from my sister. I know you're interested in her."

Lando's eyebrows creased together. "What does that men? Why?"

"Quit trying to get with my sister, and then it's a done deal."

Lando let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding. "Alright, then. Whatever. It's a done deal."

Of course Lando didn't intend on following through with his end of the deal.

But when Lando turned around to check on you on the couch, he froze when he saw you were gone. "Where'd Y/n go?" he immediately asked the other guys and girls sitting around.

"The hot Spanish girl?" one guy asked in a painfully slow Australian accent.

"Yes, her!" Lando demanded, his buzzed brain filling with irrational panic and overwhelming confusion.

He lazily gestured and responded, "Went to go dance, I reckon."

And before Carlos or anyone else could react any faster, Lando tore into the crowd, shoving people aside and squeezing through gaps that weren't there, in search of you.

She's drunk out of her mind! What the hell was she thinking!

That's right. She wasn't thinking.

And then, he spotted you, just for a moment. Moving your hips, stumbling about, thinking you were just about the sexiest thing in the room.

"Move out of my fucking way," was Lando's polite way of shoving two guys out of the way.

He could see the sweat glistening on your face. He could see the dumb smile on your face, your high giggles. He could see fresh wine spilled on your white jeans. He could see hands on you; he took no energy to see who they connected to as rage filled his entire being.

And he watched, almost in slow motion, as your ankle rolled on your black stiletto, and you stumbled to the floor with a brain rattling, painful cry.

Immediately, Lando shoved his way to your side, slipping his hands under your body. "My God, Y/n!" he nearly screamed over the music. "You idiot! You beautiful, fucking stupid, idiot! Tell me why I fell in love with you! You're going to be the death of me!"

"Hi Lando," you murmured through tears. "My ankle..."

"Yeah, yeah, I see. Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding as Lando tucked your hair behind your ear. He lifted you to your feet and let you lean on him as he helped you limp out of the club.

"I'm sorry, Lando..." you had muttered hoarsely.

"Hey, don't worry," Lando had responded. "Never apologize for having nothing but a good time."

But he, Lando Norris, disagreed with the words coming out of his mouth. That was his motto, his excuse, all the time. But as soon as soon as he saw you, someone he genuinely really loved, really cared about, living like that?

It made him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of that, as soon as you were outside, you stumbled away from Lando. He steadied you with one hand and held your hair back with the other as you doubled over and vomited, your previously red face impossibly pale.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah..." you gasped after about a minute.

"Alright. Okay. Let's get to my hotel room now."

Lando could barely understand your slurred words as you responded, "As long as we're getting away from here."

Now

You were going to go to the Japanese Grand Prix. But you just wanted to stay home. With a sprained ankle that confines you to crutches and an illness you've picked up, there was no way you were going to fly across the world for a Grand Prix, especially with the potential jet lag.

You lay on your couch and text Lando. You've been thinking, and you let him know that though you really do want to go places with him, you want to go slower.

You still don't know what happened on that night in Melbourne. For some reason, you can't get anything of significance out of Carlos or Lando. But you know more than what they're saying must have happened that night.

You asked Charles, because he was there. He provided a bit more information, but not much. He said he wasn't really hanging around you that night, but that he did see you cuddling with Lando.

When you asked Lando about it, he said you were drunk, it was just you not thinking, and it only happened once. That you stopped after he pushed you off.

And social media shows no one caught it on camera, or anything that night, for that matter.

So at least there's no fans going crazy over anything.

Lando texts you back, saying that he thinks it's best to go slow. Just let yourselves ease into whatever your relationship is going to be.

It's a relief to see he agrees with you on that.

But then he sends another text, asking you to try to keep it a secret. Even from your family, including Carlos.

You ask why, and he responds saying he simply agrees it's good to be private, and he doesn't want Carlos judging.

Though you're not sure about it, since Carlos is not only your favorite (only) brother, but also your best friend, you still tentatively agree to it.

Lando probably has a good reason.

Right?

By the time the Chinese Grand Prix comes around, though your foot is still in a walking boot, you're over your illness, and decide you're going to go for it and make the trip halfway across the world. After all, you've never been to China!

It's true that your walking boot doesn't look the best with your shades, shining silver jewelry, and overalls, but oh well. The most annoying part is literally everyone who even half knows your name (the Sainz part) keeps asking you what the hell happened to your ankle.

And you have literally no response but, "I fell," because you have no more of an idea than them, and there's no way you're about to say, 'Hah I just got drunk with Lando and got so fucking crazy that I twisted my ankle and sprained it! Anyway!'

Yeah, no way.

So "I fell," is the best option you have.

But the most concerning thing to you is that you haven't even seen Lando yet, all weekend. Though you haven't seen each other in a while, you've been calling, texting, and face timing often, your relationship growing a lot.

You chew your lip as you limp towards the McLaren garage. You peek in, scanning for Lando, but only see Oscar.

You limp to him.

"Whoa- What happened to your-"

"I fell," you say, thoroughly exasperated with this. "Anyway, is Lando around?"

"Lando? Uhhh..." he looks around.

Dude, hurry up. I'm not supposed to be here, your thoughts practically scream.

But then he walks in himself, and you grin, waving, "Lando!" you call.

He walks over to you, smiling. "Aw. Look at my little injured girlfr- uh, uhm, mate. My injured mate." He glances nervously at Oscar.

But the Australian just smiles, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Lando nods gratefully, before leading you to a more private place. "Hey," he says softly once you're alone, his hands resting on your waist. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright... Ankle's getting better, slowly but surely."

"Oh, good," he almost looks relieved. "That's so good to hear. I'm so glad you made the big trip to be here, Y/n."

You smile softly. "I was starting to miss you."

He grins. "I was missing you, too, baby... I think I could make some time for you this weekend, too. We could just get take out, hang out at my hotel room, you know. No more partying, even if I win, right?" he teases gently, gesturing to your foot.

You snort. "Yeah. Yeah, no more partying for now for me."

Later that night, you lay next to Lando in his hotel room. His arms are wrapped around you, his hand rubbing your back. "Look at me," he murmurs sleepily.

You look up to see his soft eyes looking at you, with so much, tenderness, so much...

love.

You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Lando, how did we get here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two months ago, I would lie awake in bed, dreaming about and missing Ferran. I was so lonely. Now here I am. Two months, and I'm laying here, in your arms."

He grins a bit. "I bet it's because we're meant for each other."

"That's cliché."

"No, it's not. I really mean it. You know, I had a crush on you even back when Carlos was in McLaren, you were around a lot more, in papaya."

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did!" he laughs softly. "I really did. The day I saw you in the paddock. The day Carlos pointed you out as his sister. The day you flipped your hair and looked at me with those warm brown eyes. And then looked away from me, because in my first season in McLaren, I was the farthest thing from attractive."

You giggle at this. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not! That was the day that I knew- I knew- that someday, I was going to make you mine," he murmurs, his eye half-lidded as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

"Lando!" you squeak, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare make me cry for no reason!" You wait a minute, before saying softly, "Well, maybe, just maybe, back then, though you were a pipsqueak, you were kind of cute... And I've always gotten butterflies from your jokes and teasing, even all those years ago, before I was even dating Ferran."

He laughs. "Awww... So you've always had a little bit of a crush on me, too!" You can see by his blushing cheeks and beaming eyes that just this fact is making him feel warm inside.

You roll your eyes, giggling. "I guess, maybe...."

He flicks your nose gently, playfully, holding you even closer. You lay there in more silence, before Lando says softer, even more tenderly, "Hey, Y/n... can I talk to you about something...?"

"Of course, Lando..." Your eyebrows knit together.

You watch as he swallows. Nods. Sighs. "Okay... Something has been bugging me..." He pauses. "I... I feel like I never should have brought you out that night in Australia... you know? Like, beyond the sprained ankle."

Your eyes flash. "What do you mean?"

"Well... You just got so drunk, and... I feel so bad... Like, somehow, it's my fault... I didn't mean for you to get hurt, or to drink that much... I just thought we'd have fun. Like I always do with my friends. And you're my girlfriend; supposed to be my closest friend..."

"Lando," you murmur shakily. "Did you try to get me that drunk? You didn't encourage it, did you?"

He looks nervous. "I genuinely don't think so, but I'm nervous I did... I tried to tell you enough was enough, but maybe I should have looked out for you more... Maybe I should have worked better at keeping you from getting that drunk... But we were having so much fun and I figured you would know your limit... I shouldn't have assumed."

"Lando! Don't blame yourself! It was my fault. I got too drunk, I fell and sprained my ankle. The sentiment of you wanting to look out for me is nice, but when push comes to shove, I'm in charge of myself, just like you're in charge of yourself, and it was my fault. My mistake. M'kay, Lando...?"

He nods slowly, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, Carlos isn't mad at you about it. He's mad at me..."

"Carlos is what?!"

"Ah, fuck. Forget I ever-"

"Lando Norris, explain."

"Whoa, that's sexy," he laughs.

"What?!" you exclaim in exasperation, yet you're still unable to keep your stomach fluttering by Lando's sudden spoken intrusive thought.

He grins, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Full name, in such a firm voice? Like, yes, mommy, order me around. I'll do whatever you want me to," he says in a low, goofy, teasing voice.

You can't stop your face from heating up. "Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, your voice cracking awkwardly as you flick him in the nose this time. And you flick his stupid nose harder than he flicked yours earlier.

He giggles evilly, rolling over. "Look at yourself! You liked that! You're a blushing mess!"

"No, I didn't. What a stupid way to flirt."

"Oh, well, I can show you even more stupid ways to flirt. Because, apparently, it doesn't quicken your heart rate at all."

You groan. "You are so annoying."

He leans over, giving you a peck on your lips. "I know. And you know you love me for it."

You forget to ask him again about Carlos.

"Baby, c'mere," Lando says, nodding for you to join him in his driver's room.

"Dude, watch what you call me when there's listening ears around."

Lando shrugs. "It's only Oscar in the other room."

"So? What makes you trust Oscar so much, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. He's a good guy. And he's not gossipy, like me."

You laugh. "You are, are you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking gossip girl."

You laugh out loud at this as Lando shuts the door of his driver's room behind you.

Lando grins. "Anyways, Oscar is trustworthy because he's not the type of guy to have any desire not to keep a secret."

You frown, crossing your arms. "Alright. Whatever. Anyways, why'd you bring me in here?"

Lando shrugs, sitting down on the one chair in the room. "Sit down, babe."

You blink. "Where? On the fricking floor?"

"Uh, no," Lando rolls his eyes jokingly, as if this is the most obvious thing. "On my fricking lap, Y/n. Come on now. Duh."

You can't help but find yourself blush at that as you slip onto his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You smile, leaning into him as you ask softly, "So why'd you bring me in here? Just for kicks?"

He grins. "I need my Y/n fix before the race. You know, it'll make me drive better."

"Oh? Is that how it works?" Suddenly, though, before Lando can respond, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You slip it out and sigh. "It's Carlos, asking me where I am. I feel like I'm under surveillance."

Lando blows a raspberry before saying, "Just ignore it, bae. You're a twenty-four year old woman; Carlos needs to get over it."

"Get over what?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.

"You not being his baby sister anymore. You're my baby now," he murmurs into your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself.

You laugh. "I still can't decide whether you're the worst flirt I've ever met or the smoothest. But right now, I'm thinking the worst."

"Oh, well!" he says, looking up at you with innocent eyes, batting his lashes. "Doesn't matter to me, because either way, you like it! Anyway, back to before Carlitos had to interrupt-"

You giggle as he begins kissing your face and say, "Carlitos? I'm not even allowed to call him that without him going psycho man on me-"

"Mmm... Can you talk less? It's cuter when you do that giggle thing," Lando murmurs between kisses.

This causes you to laugh out loud. "Sometimes, Lando, I think you're so weird." You realize, in a strange way, though, Lando is right. Because of the giddy feeling of literally having your boyfriend shower you with kisses and love, you're just kind of trying to find anything to talk about.

But maybe you should just take one moment to shut up.

You lean into the kisses, exhaling slowly. Contently, despite your pounding heart and sweating neck.

Finally, you feel as though your face is absolutely, completely covered in Lando's kisses. You sigh, contented, as Lando kisses the tip of your nose, and then pecks your lips.

You giggle, opening your eyes to gaze into his.

But his eyes flutter shut as he leans in, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck. And his lips meet yours again, this time in a real kiss. You shut your eyes, enjoying those lips on your own, sending tingles throughout your whole body, causing your breath to grow heavier and heavier. Desire pulses in every beat of your heart, causing the passion in the kiss to build and build. Your right hand falls into his chest as the other knits itself in his curly locks. You feel Lando's hand on your hip as his fingers snake under to grip your ass gently. You can feel his hot breath on you, in you, apart of you, as his other hand gently stroking your neck, giving you little twitches of longing for more. Your tongues find an art of lingering exploration, Lando's hunger seeming to never be satisfied as his tongue and lips tease your nerves, the emotional and physical connections between you seeming stronger than ever. His hand slides down your neck to your back, pulling you closer to him, so your chests are pressed into one another.

Suddenly, though, there's a pounding on the door of Lando's driver's room. Your eye cracks open. Lando's squeeze tighter shut, his eyebrows creasing together, as if he wishes so much that this never has to end.

Lando grunts, finally pulling away. Oscar's voice on the other side of the door saying Lando's name seems to be in another, insignificant world. You're both gasping as you study each other's eyes in a certain awe.

A soft, mischievous smirk appears on Lando's lips. Those lips that now you can't stop staring at. "Was your first kiss with Torres that hot?"

You let out a breathy laugh. "Definitely not."

There's a pause, of just softly smiling, gazing into each other's eyes, before Lando breathes, his eyes half-lidded, "My fucking God," He gently, slowly strokes your warm, pink cheek. "Did I ever tell you how head over heels I am for you?"

Before you can respond, Oscar's voice says again from outside, "Lando, if you don't respond, soon, I'm coming in."

Lando groans again, leaning his head back, "You can't! The door's locked!" He then adds under his breath, "Fucking Osc, interrupting as soon as I was going to take it to the next step."

At this, you blush even deeper. "You were-"

Lando waves his hand dismissively. "I would have checked with you first."

You nod, breathing deeply.

"Alright, baby," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "Let's go see what the hell Oscar wants."

When the door swings open, Oscar can't help but chuckle how how much, in that moment, you two look like some snarky super villian duo, about to give him some cheesy monologue. You both stand, arms crossed, practically back to back. Lando wears a scornful grin and you display a glare as hard as stone. Even your clothes- Lando's racing clothes and your head-to-toe Ferrari red, finish off the silly look.

"What's so funny?" you demand upon seeing the Australian's laughter.

"Nothing, nothing. But I hope you guys know: These walls are not soundproof."

"What are you suggesting?" Lando snaps. "You couldn't have possibly heard anything, you idiot!"

"Whoa, whoa! I didn't! I'm just saying!" Oscar says, going on the defensive, putting both hands up. "Me and my girlfriend don't lock ourselves in my driver's room before the race, losing track of time and forcing you to go get us!"

"You and your girlfriend are probably going to buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.5 children and a golden lab! Oscar and Lily is bad enough, but I'm surprised it's not John and Emily!"

"Whoa," Lando says, laughing as you walk out of the driver's room together and he shuts the door. "Shots fired. Calm down, Y/n; jeez."

But Oscar's laughing, too, so you know there's no need to apologize.

"Lan... You know I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I won't go out, right?" you say nervously as you walk into his hotel room, rolling your suitcase from your own hotel room.

"Yeah, I know you weren't. I wasn't kidding, either."

"So... What?" you ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed, crossing your arms. "You're planning on going alone? Then why did you bring me to your hotel room-"

"Y/n," he suddenly says, leaning down to gently grab your chin and look you directly in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm staying right here."

Your jaw actually drops. "I'm sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris? Because that man would never miss an opportunity to party."

This makes Lando let go of you and break into a fit of laughter. "Y/n!" he breathes. "What the hell are you talking about? Before that, I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you."

You stare. "Okay, actually. I'm being serious now. What did you do with Lando?"

You watch as your boyfriend chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Baby. I'm not going to go out clubbing while you sit in a hotel room alone. And there's no way I'm taking you out again; my guilty conscience can't take that, and neither can your sprained ankle. So why not celebrate P2 here, just you and I, hm?" he says in a low tone.

Immediately, at this suggestion, you blush. "Oh, uh, Lando... I, uh... I don't know if I'm ready for something... you know... for that... right now... Not yet... You know, it's too early for me in our relationsh-"

Lando suddenly breaks into laughter again. Oh, that sweet, silly sound. "Y/n! My God, what a dirty mind you have! I wasn't thinking that at all-!"

"You, Lando Norris, are saying I have a dirty mind?! I bet you really are his doppelganger!"

He crosses his arms. "Only reason why I wouldn't suggest that is because I know you're not ready. Which is more than one hundred percent fine with me. I wasn't even thinking about that, anyway."

"What were you thinking, then?"

He smiles with his eyes. "Well, let's both get ready for bed," he begins pulling his shirt off over his head as you absolutely bear your eyes into him, "And once we're both ready, I'll meet you back... here...?" His confused face slowly turns to one of teasing nature when he sees your eyes trained intently on his bare chest. His perfectly toned abs. His perfectly shaped pecs. His strong, straight, tan back. The little brown beauty marks sprinkled all over his torso. You would love to kiss every single one of them. "Why don't you take a picture?" he smirks stupidly. "That way, it'll last longer."

"Oh, shut up," you murmur, licking your lips as you tear your eyes away from his bare middle. "You can shower first," you murmur.

Once you're both all clean and ready, you snuggle up under the blankets, only to find your arm brushing against Lando's bare skin.

You feel your heart flutter as you murmur, "Are you not wearing a shirt just to bother me?"

"What, no," Lando says, overly innocently. "I never wear a shirt to bed. Just like I'm sure you never wear a bra...?"

If you were embarrassed before, now it's ten times worse. You specifically decided to wear a bra, to avoid... that. And now here Lando is, bringing it up like it's the weather.

"Uh..." you begin.

"Anyway!" Lando says, apparently seeing the vaguely panicked look in your eyes. "Wanna just watch a show or something?"

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Lando turns some stupid show on his laptop, and as you snuggle and it gets later, you become more relaxed. You lean your head on Lando's shoulder as he plays with strands of your smooth, wet, dark hair. Your hands begin softly feeling his chest, just drawing circles and feeling the shapes of his abs.

Everyday, you seem to get to know Lando more and more- inside and out.

He sighs, contented, and murmurs sleepily, "That feels nice."

You smile, nuzzling into him.

"I saw Barcelona and Madrid played today," he comments as your fingers continue stroking the abs under Lando's soft skin.

"Yeah... El Clásico..."

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. I thought you were big on Madrid."

"Yeah, I am... Just having been keeping up with La Liga lately, I guess."

"Hm... Well, would you like it if I could find some way to watch the game...?"

You smile softly. "Hm. Yeah, maybe that wouldn't be so bad..."

Lando nods, and soon, you're cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching your favorite team play against FC Barcelona/your ex's team.

It feels weird, but you like it.

You decide your bra isn't very comfy and slip it off under your shirt before tossing it across the room.

"You're finally over being embarrassed with me?" Lando teases.

You smile softly, shutting your eyes. "At least for now. Too sleepy to care."

He smiles back. "You're cute when you're sleepy. Cuter."

Soon, though, Lando is gently shaking you, murmuring, "Look. Your ex was subbed on."

"Hmmm? What about Fer?" you murmur with a yawn. You must have dozed off for a bit.

"Fer?" Lando asks, his nose scrunching up. "Yeah, Ferran Torres."

Your eyes flutter open to see your ex-boyfriend running onto the pitch. You feel a sudden, unexpected pang in your chest. When you and Ferran were still together, you watched him do that so many time, with a sense of pride and excitement.

But now, you don't feel much at all. It's no different from anyone else going out there to play.

But, like a train, memories of the past begin to hit you.

Going for walks with him. Cheering him on at finals. Hanging out with his teammates. Working out with him. Bringing him to the Barcelona Grand Prix. Exchanging gifts on birthdays and holidays.

Just all the little things you used to do.

Like snuggling with each other on late nights after Barcelona won.

Not unlike what you and Lando are doing right now.

Suddenly Lando's arm around you tightens, and he says, "You okay?"

"I- yeah..."

Lando leans forward to see you face. You try to turn it away. Lando doesn't let you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

"You're crying," he states softly.

"I guess..." you trail off, averting your eyes.

There's a few beats of silence before Lando states again, "You still miss him."

"I guess..." you repeat. "But... I'm happy to be with you... it just all happened so quick... It's a lot for me... I'm mostly over it- over him- by now, but sometimes things just... make me start to think. Reminsce of what's not anymore."

Lando slowly nods, and begins rubbing your shoulder. "I- Alright..."

"But don't worry. I'm way more happy to be with you right now than sad to not be with Ferran any longer."

"You're sure?" the Brit asks tentatively.

You nod, leaning into him once more. "I'm sure. One hundred and one percent."

"Hey, Lando," you grin giddily before the Miami Grand Prix. "Just drive your best out there, okay? Good luck, baby." You give him a high-five. You can sense he wants to give you a hug, but painfully knows he can't because of the ever-watching cameras and eyes all around you.

But he leans in close, until you can practically feel his breath on your face, and says softly, in just about the most heart-wrenching-in-a-good-way low voice, "Oh, baby... I'm going to go out there and win that race. For you."

"Oh, stop being such a romantic. You're going to make me cry."

He leans in, about to kiss your cheek, but you gently push him off, saying, "You better get going, Lan! Race is going to start soon!"

"Right! Bye bye, bab-"

"BYE!" you scream to overpower his stupid 'baby girl.'

And before you can even blink twice, it seems-

It's lights out....

And away we go!

"LANDO! FUCKIN'! NORRIS!" you scream as soon as you see him, running to him as fast as you can. Your eyes threaten to fill over their brims with tears as you leap into Lando's arms, immediately forgetting about hiding your relationship.

Right now, that just seems too silly to care about. It doesn't matter enough.

Your boyfriend is a race winner.

The racer winner!

He leans back with the most joyful, most romantic, most adrenaline filled, most glorious look in his eyes as they search yours. His hand slowly strokes your cheeks as he purrs, "I told you I would win it for you, didn't I?"

"Lando-" you begin in excitement, but are interrupted by Lando's lips on yours, aggressively, passionately leaning into yours, flooding all his emotions into you, sharing his dream coming true with you.

For some reason, you begin to cry. Flows of tears, flooding down your cheeks as you kiss each other, and your heart pounds at a million kilometres an hour. His hands grip your waist tight, and the moment-

It all seems so perfect.

Right now, you don't care about the fact it was supposed to be secret. You don't care about what Carlos will think or say or do, or what fans on social media will post. None of it matters.

In this moment, the only two people that matter are you and Lando, in a symphony of amorousness, standing on the top of the world.

In this moment, you and Lando, both in sync, know this is the right time. Though it's been merely three months of being in a real, serious relationship, it feels like several lifetimes.

You don't care about the shock of other people, or the cameras flashing and clicking and filming.

All the sudden, you're proud of it.

You want everyone to know, no matter how they'll react, that you're Lando's, and Lando is yours.

When you finally break away from each other, Lando's smile remains as he gazes into your eyes.

"Are you crying too?" you giggle softly as you spot a glint in his eyes.

"What? Me, crying? No, I'm not crying! Of course I'm not crying!" he says teasingly, hastily wiping at his eye with his thumb. "You're the one crying! But anyway-" He slips the papaya McLaren cap off his head and plops it on yours, saying, "Won't be needing this for the top step. Besides," he smirks, leaning in closer. "Enough with all this Ferrari stuff. I think it's finally time for you to admit: Papaya looks best on you. Papaya's your color."

As you watch him jog off after that, stunned, you feel pleased.

Finally, for once, content.

That's right. My color isn't white, or blaugrana. It's not Ferrari's red, either.

I'm a papaya girl.

His papaya girl.

[thecuriousbeauty]

One-Love! (Harry Styles Oneshot- Tennis player! Harry x Tennis Player y/n)

Synopsis:- This is a one shot inspired by Paris Olympics Gold medalists Katerina Siniakova and Tomas Machac, a beautiful couple who broke up before the olympics to focus on their game, and teamed up in the mixed doubles event to win the gold for their country. They shared a sweet kiss after their victory.

Word Count: 4,219

Warnings: Smut. Some sweet sex, a little bit of angst, and lots of fluff.

_______________________________________________

The sun was bright, warm, and not harsh, falling over y/n’s face through the small gaps of her window blinds. The alarm goes off and she wakes up with a soft groan, expertly reaching out a hand to silence it, without having to look. 

“Wakey wakey, it’s a beautiful morning!”She hears her boyfriend, Harry, and curls up on her side, hiding further under her blankets and acting like she’s still sleeping as she hears his footsteps coming towards her.

She feels the bed dip down with Harry’s weight as he climbs on, and leans over her, his breath fanning her face. “Aw, look at you, my sleepy head.”

y/n has to trap in her smile as she feels his gentle fingers stroke over her hair, moving the strands away from her face. “What am I gonna do to wake her up?”Harry wonders, smiling as he knows she’s playing with him. “Maybe I should go with a tickle attack.”

y/n gasps as his arms wrap around her waist, and hands sneak up to his oversized shirt she was wearing. “You can’t wake people up with tickle attacks!”, she says.

He laughs, pulling her so her back is to his chest. “You’re awake then?”

“No.”, she grumbles, turning around in his arms, and resting her forehead on his shoulder blade.”Why is it morning so fast?”

“Well, we did stay up till late. You wanted to go another round and then-”

“-Oh shut up.”, she cuts him off, and opens her eyes, meeting the forest green ones staring back at her. Harry’s face splits into a big smile as he rubs his nose with hers, something they always do. “There’s my girl.”

y/n has known Harry since years. They grew up in the same neighborhood, and their parents are friends. y/n and Harry didn’t get off to a great start though. Harry and his friends were playing football when y/n and her friend were walking by, and one of them kicked the ball towards them, making it splash onto a puddle right in front of them. The murky brown water fell on y/n’s friend’s new white top. Of course the boys didn’t mean to and they apologized, but since then, her friends wouldn’t look eye to eye with those boys. It seemed like a good grudge to keep at their young age.

y/n had a love for tennis. She loved watching the matches with her dad, and her dad even set up a net for her in the backyard so they could play. He enrolled her in the nearest coaching academy, where she didn’t know that Harry was training as well. 

“Oh Harry! It’s her first day today. Good that you have a friend already, eh?”Her dad smiles as he pats little Harry’s shoulder. The older curly haired boy smiled at y/n, a little smile playing on his lips. y/n tells her dad that she would be okay, and he leaves, promising to come pick her up after two hours. 

“So, you like tennis?”Harry asks, looking sideways at her as they walk inside. 

“Yes. You too?”, she asks, and he nods, putting out a hand. “Friends then?”

y/n smiles, shaking his hand. “Friends.”

“Someone once told me that mornings are the best time to train.”, Harry tells her as he brings his hands up to cup her face. 

“Must be a crazy person.”, she smiles, admiring how some of his brown curls fell over his face. “Yes, she is quite crazy. But I love her.”, he smiles back, dimples popping as his thumb stroked over her bottom lip. “Let’s go, sunshine. Made our smoothies ready.”

“Kiss?”, y/n puckers her lips. Harry looks at her fondly, before pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I love you too.”, she says, ruffling his hair when they pull away and sits up, stretching her arms above her head. 

Harry and y/n get into their training clothes, after y/n freshens up and they get going to the court where they practice. They did their warm ups, and ran some rounds around the court first. Harry and y/n had different coaches, but they train together a lot of times.

“You’re going down, Styles.”, y/n says, pushing her hair back with her head band before picking up her racket.

“You can try, y/n.”, Harry grins, who was jumping on his toes on the opposite side. 

Harry was easily the best player she had played with, and played against. He was quick on his toes, his eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s, and he moved on the court like a panther. He was something you would call a mastermind, he had moves saved until the last moment and surprised his opponent when they least expected it. Harry had the saddest time of his life when he failed to qualify for the Tokyo Olympics. He got injured during the qualifying match, and he couldn’t be at his best.

“One- Love!", Harry smirks, as he gets a point. 

y/n’s coach thought she wasn’t ready yet during Tokyo, so she was now looking at the Paris Olympics. Winning a medal for her country was her dream and she would do anything to get that. 

“Yess!”, y/n cheers as she gets the match winning point to beat Harry. They always get so close, and playing against y/n sends the gears in Harry’s head turning, and he has to be at the top of his game. y/n walks to the bench, sitting down tiredly and Harry walks to her, giving her a fist bump. “Nice one, babe.”

“Thanks.”, she smiles, taking her water bottle out of her bag and pouring some over her face before chugging it down. “Wanna go again?”

“I’d like to, but I’ve got a session with the coach in the evening, don’t wanna over work myself.”, Harry tells her and she nods. “Shall we go grab breakfast?”, he asks her.

“Sure.”

Harry and y/n get some breakfast, then spend the day with each other before they part for training with their coaches in the evening. 

“y/n, you have six months from now for the qualification rounds.”, her coach tells her. “We have to make a game plan for that soon.”

“I’m at the top of my game right now coach, I just have to keep doing what I’m doing, right?”, she asks. She had won silvers, and golds in the previous tournaments. She was one of the country’s best at the moment. 

“This is the Olympics, y/n, it’s not going to be easy.”, he tells her. “You have to work double as hard.”

“I will. I’m gonna go to Paris this time.”

He smiles at her, keeping his hands together over his knees as he leans to talk to her. She was sitting on the court, arms around her knees. “You know you have to let go of all distractions, right?”

“My social media and stuff? Yeah, I can do that.”

“I’m talking about Styles.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What about him? He isn’t a distraction coach, we make each other better. Besides, we’re competing in different categories, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I want your focus to be on Tennis completely, y/n.”, he stresses. “You can’t do that if you’ve got a love life. And you know as well I do, that Harry will do anything to get this win. He needs it. He’s getting older, and he’s under a lot of pressure. It’s good for both of you to stop dating for a while, at least until this gets over.”

y/n opens her mouth and closes it. “You’ve got what it takes y/n, you are so talented. Isn’t this your dream?”

“Yes..”, she whispers. 

“Then you have to let go of everything and give me your best in these next few months.”

Harry was fed the same things from his coach, and they both stopped seeing each other so frequently. They stayed over less, and there was this air of tension around them as the days grew closer. 

“Babe..”, Harry says. He pauses the show they were watching, making y/n turn to look at him. “Hm?”

“W-We, um, we need to talk.”

y/n nods, sitting up, and Harry takes her hand. He didn’t want to tell her this, but he had to. Tennis was important to him. This could be his last chance to finally make it. He had to make sacrifices. 

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”, he murmurs. “They’re right, we have to focus on the sport. It’s our dream.”

y/n’s heart squeezes in her chest. “Y-You’re just as important to me, Harry.”

Harry quickly looks up to her eyes, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you mean the world to me. You’re my person, and my everything. Trust me, I thought about this a lot.”

“Me too.”, she agrees quietly. “This is it, then?”

“No. No, please, don’t say that.”, he shakes his head, leaving her hand to scoop her into his lap. One of his hands cups her cheek, while the other lays at her hip. “We can get back together..when things are not so hectic.”

“So..we break up for a few months to focus on Tennis?”, she asks, tears springing in her eyes, and Harry’s heart breaks as he sees that. He nodded. “M-My dad..he wanted me to win in the Olympics, it was his dream. He even told me about it before he d-died. I-I have to do this, y/n.”

She nods, understanding. She had the same love for the sport. An Olympic medal is the best achievement for any sports person.

“I love you.”, she whispers, her forehead touching his. 

“I love you too.”, he whispers back, kissing her. His tongue strokes over her bottom lip and she opens up, to let his tongue explore her mouth. Her fingers play with the curls at the back of his head, as his hands run up and down her sides. “One last time?”, he whispers against her lips, eyes looking at hers. 

“One last time.”, she agrees, joining their lips again. Harry’s lips trail down her neck, and her jawline, leaving his marks. “N-No seeing anyone else, right?”, she asks.

“Do you want to?”, he asks, slipping his hand under her shirt to grope at her breast. She moans, pressing closer to him as she feels his boner through her shorts. “No..n-no one’s as good as you, Harry.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”, he smirks, rubbing her nipple between his fingers. “Let me see you, baby.”, he whispers, tugging her shirt off her body. y/n does the same to him, and continues to straddle his lap as he marks her up.

She runs her hands over his muscular arms, his broad shoulders and over his inked chest. “Just like that baby, go down on me, just like that.”, he murmurs, hands moving to her hip to get her into a rhythm. He plays with her breasts and showers her in kisses, groaning against her skin. 

“H-Harry I need you.”, she moans softly. “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Harry picks her up, hands under her ass as he takes them to the bedroom, their lips connecting again. He lets her back hit the bed softly, before hovering over her. “You are so beautiful.”, he punctuates each word with a kiss down to her stomach, while his hand moves to her core, feeling the sleekness of her wet folds. 

“Right back at ya, Styles.”, she says, pulling him closer as she runs her hands down his back. Harry groans, not able to hold on any longer. “Let me get inside you, darling.”

She spreads her legs, and he pushes his dick inside her. She moans at the feeling of being full. Harry fills her up so well. He starts moving in and out of her, his eyes looking at hers. “You feel so g-good, y/n.”, he moans. “So perfect for me.”

y/n looks at the love of her life, her chest bursting with emotions. She wished they could be here like this, with only the two of them in their own world forever.

“H-Harry?”, she asks, opening her palm, wanting him to hold her hand while he fucked her. Harry looks at her, also brimming with emotions. He tangles his hand with hers immediately, squeezing it tight. “I-I love you y/n. I love you so much.”

“I-I love you too.”, she smiles, her body starting to shake as she feels her orgasm coming. She clenched around his dick, and he brought his other hand to rub her clit. Her eyes roll back in her head as she whispers his name, again and again, as she reaches her high. Harry cums after she does, and he lays on top of her, exhausted.

“We’ll be fine, love.”, y/n whispers, running her hand through her favorite head of curls. 

Harry smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We will.”

_____________________________________________

y/n and Harry hadn’t seen each other, or talked to each other for months. Harry missed y/n so much that he felt a constant tugging in his heart. He trained alone with his coach, and he missed the times when they would mess around with each other. He missed her laugh, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, he missed her scent in his room, on his clothes, he missed everything about her. The only thing that kept him going was his game.

y/n wasn’t any better. She was alright for the first few weeks, but then the empty space next to her on the bed, the lack of warmth when she woke up in the mornings, and the lack of cheesy jokes made her think about Harry. She was on a strict diet, and her coach put her on a different workout regime. It was so extreme that after a while, the only thing on her mind was Tennis. Her mind was trained. 

Over the months, y/n’s agility improved along with other aspects, and she became great at reading the game. She was beating everyone she played against. Finally, it was time for the qualification rounds. 

Harry had finished his match, and he had won, so he had booked his spot in Paris, representing Britain. 

“Back to the hotel now?”, his friend, who’s also under the training of his coach asks him. 

“Next match in court number five! y/n y/l/n versus Yasmin Reinardo!”, Harry hears the announcement and his eyes widen. He wanted to go see her.

“Um, you go ahead.”, he told his friend, before rushing off to court five. He joined the audience, making it just in time.

He felt so many emotions when he saw her. It had been six months. His sunshine, his baby, his love. She looked incredible. Gorgeous as always, and she had gained some muscle around her arms. Her hair was tied into a high pony, and she wore her favorite white head band which she thinks is her lucky charm. 

Harry was so proud as he watched his girl on the court, she was on fire. Her opponent was good, but not good enough. 

y/n won the game, and the other girl broke into tears. After all, she also had the dream for representing her country at the Olympics. y/n pulls her into a hug, rubbing her back as she mumbled something Harry couldn’t hear, but he smiled. He quickly went down to meet her, as she wiped the sweat off her body with a towel.

“Congratulations, love.”

She spins around so quickly when she hears his voice, and her eyes melt. She was overjoyed with emotion because of the win. She was going to compete in the Olympics for the first time! And the first person that she wanted to see was Harry, who was right in front of her.

“Harry.”, she gushes, before throwing her arms around him. Harry didn’t mind the sweat, he needed the hug just as much as she did. He squeezed her to her chest, holding her close. “O-Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”, she shakes in his arms.

“You made it love, you’re going to Paris!”, he rubs her back, pressing his lips to the top of her head. He heard the camera click, and knew their photos were being taken. Oh well. He couldn’t worry about that now.

“Y-You?”, y/n pulls back to look at him. Harry grinned at her, dipping his head down to rub his nose with hers. “I’m coming along too.”

She grins back and squeezes him. “I would have been so mad if we broke up for no reason. We get a free ticket to Paris!”

________________________________________

The Olympics will be held in another four months.. They caught up that day during the qualifications, grabbed a dinner together to celebrate, and then they were back to training. 

They would see each other more often now, because all the British representatives trained together. Harry and y/n were both in better spirits now that they could see each other frequently, even if it was strictly during practice. 

They would exchange subtle glances, touch hands when they exchanged things, and talk when they got time, but it was mostly about the game. One month before the Olympics, their team was yet to decide who would play for the mixed doubles. 

“You both have played together before, right?”, one of the coaches asked Harry. “y/n and I? Yeah, in the commonwealth, we won bronze.”

“I think they’re our best shot.”, the guy says, looking at the other coaches and the players. 

“What do you guys think?”

Harry looks at y/n, from across the room, like I’m okay if you’re okay.

Yes, there was their break up thing, they hadn’t kissed in months, there would be sexual tension having to play right next to him as his team member, and she couldn’t let that affect the event she was competing for. But it was an amazing opportunity, she had two chances to get a medal.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. We’ve played together the most, and we make a good team.”, y/n said, and Harry smiled. 

So that’s how they started preparing together, for the mixed doubles along with their own events. 

“Are you nervous?”, y/n asks one night, as she sits on the floor stretching. “We’re flying to Paris tomorrow, Harry.”

“I’m excited about going to Paris, but am I nervous about the actual reason we’re going? Yes.”, he says, making her chuckle. They were the only ones there, and Harry was putting his racket into its case. “It’s gonna be unreal. I mean, we’re getting a step closer to our dreams.”

y/n nods, stretching her legs out. “Any tips from your experience? About the whole adjusting to playing in the world’s biggest tournament thing.”

Harry laughs lightly, turning to her. “Babe, this is my first time too.” He crouches down so he’s looking at her. “But I’d say just focus on your game. You are the best, believe only that. Tune out everything else. You might feel like listening to the crowd who’s cheering for you, but tune that out too. You focus on doing what you’re good at. You’ve sacrificed so much for this, and you deserve to win. Play with that feeling.”

y/n looks into his eyes, and nods as his words seep into her brain. Her eyes moved to his lips, he was so close. Just one kiss. 

Harry leaned closer, but it was to grab her leg. “Let me stretch you out.”

“Y-Yeah..”, she looks away from him. Harry had only gotten more attractive, and she loved seeing him in his short tennis shorts and a loose shirt. His tattoo covered muscular arms made her go weak in the knees.

“Lay back.”, Harry says and she does. Harry’s hands slowly lift up her leg, one of his hands on the back of her thigh and the other on her foot as he applies some pressure to it. She can’t stretch herself out so well. 

“Other leg.”, Harry smiles, keeping that leg down and his hands reaching for her other leg. She lifts it up, and he stretches it out like he did with the other. He was on his knees in front of her. Then he folds her leg, making her knee touch her chin.

“Hold it for another second..”, he hums, counting down. He did the same for the other leg, and she feels like her muscles are dissolving under her touch. 

“Pancake time.”, Harry pats her thigh, and she sits up, leaning over with her hands on the floor, going into something called the pancake stretch. Harry goes behind her, and applies pressure to her back. “Head down..that’s it, hold it there.”

She groans, feeling the stretch. Harry can’t help but smile, she can’t see his face anyway. “Alright, arms up.”

He stretches her arms, holding them above her head, and when he’s done, he kisses the top of her head. “All done.”

“Thanks, H.”, she smiles. “I’m gonna get going, make sure I’ve packed everything.”

“Mhm.” He wishes he could go with her. 

“Soon.”, she promises, like she read his mind, and he smiles as she kisses his cheek before walking away with her bag.

_____________________________________________________

It was crazy. Harry and y/n were in the Olympic Village, competing in the Paris Olympics. It was unbelievable. y/n had to pinch herself when she got there. It was every sports lover’s dream. They got a little tour when they arrived, and she was awed by all the different areas for the numerous sports competitions. 

She stood beside Harry for the opening ceremony, along with their other team members as they were welcomed. She was overwhelmed, thinking about how hard she had worked to get there. 

Her own event was going to be after a few days, the first event was her mixed doubles with Harry. They knew very well each other’s strengths and weaknesses, who should cover what, and everything else. They were well prepared and planned.

They won every game they played, and made it to the finals. 

y/n wanted to win this for Harry. She was going to give it her best. 

“We got this.”, Harry squeezes her hand as she jumps around, minutes before the match. “y/n, we got this.”

She nods, taking a deep breath and looking at him. A medal was sure. If not gold, silver. But their eyes were on the gold. Everyone wants to win.

She walks to Harry, and hugs him. “We’ve gotten this far love, this is the final stretch.”, Harry whispers against her hair. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

“I-I’m proud of you too.”, she pulls back to hold his face. “A-And I can’t do it anymore. I-I can’t live without you, Harry.”

“Neither can I, baby. I need you in my life, I can’t fucking breathe if I think about losing you, ever.”, Harry squeezes her tight. “Now, it’s time to win a medal. What do you say?”

“I say yes.”, she grins. 

Everyone cheers as Harry and y/n enter the court, shaking hands with their opponents. The fans loved to cook up theories about Harry and y/n, being seen out a lot of times with each other and their chemistry on the court is just magical to watch. Harry and y/n give cheeky responses when they're asked about it during interviews. They never confirmed their relationship, but their fans think it's obvious.

“One- Love!”

They score a point, and grin at each other before their hands meet for a fist bump. It was a tight game, keeping the people watching at the edge of her seats. They won the first set.

y/n and Harry are seen whispering to each other and their coaches as they drink their water and electrolytes during the break. They knew where their opponents were weak and just how to win the second set just like they had won the first.

And they do.

y/n screams in joy and astonishment. The fact that she just won an Olympic Gold Medal for her country felt so unreal! Harry was going through the same emotions. He made his father proud, he achieved what he had been working towards for years. 

The whole world was looking at them, but Harry could only see one person. His partner and the love of his life. 

“We won Harry! We won!”, she jumps high into the air, before wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him. Harry laughs as he lifts his girl up, spinning her around. They were laughing and crying at the same time. When Harry lets her feet touch the ground, she grins at him through her tears, and he cups her face. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Harry.”, she chokes back, and Harry couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed her. He kissed her like he didn’t for 10 months, he kissed her like he couldn’t breathe, and he kissed her like they just became World Champions.

Kateřina Siniaková and Tomáš Macháč- Gold medlists, Mixed Doubles. Paris Olympics, 2024.

[thevirtualvalentine]

His favorite things 2 do w u !

ft: Atsumu Miya, Shōyō Hinata, Kozume Kenma, Ushijima Wakatoshi, & Kiyoomi Sakusa.

warning(s): tooth rotting domesticity, gn!reader + no pronouns used, nudity in kiyoomis (you shower together), nerd!shō (canon), autistic coded kags, established relationships. thrown in kenma bc I love nerds.

notes: hq has me in its cold slimy grip, sos. Divider by @dollywons !

Being a pro-athlete makes him oh so busy! He’s so grateful to have a honey at home who loves him.

ATSUMU MIYA … helping him redye his hair. Around every month and a half ‘Tsumu and you take on the task of making him a fake platinum blond. He can thank you for the correct mix of toners to rid him of that nauseating yellow hair.

While it may be about him, he’s watching you intently in the mirror. The way you take care of him and make him feel oh so handsome. He’s used to getting the job done himself, but he trusts you and wants you to be there for him in this small gesture.

During those 2 hours, the world is silent and it’s just you and him in your shared bathroom. You donning one of his old shirts and nothing else while you, “make him sparkle.” He really is a diamond in the ruff, in need of your polishing.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA… doing nail care together. While yes, it sounds peculiar, we all know how deeply Tobio cares about the state of his hands. They’re fundamental to his everyday life on and off the court. After watching him prep the night before a game by filing his nails, you asked him to let you help. “Here baby, let me,” you offered, taking his much larger palm in your own as you round out the shape.

It became a habit between you not long after, body doubling as you both take care of your hands or trading off doing each other's. It’s a simple thing really, but he can’t help the light smile that finds him in those moments. Tobio can’t explain in words why it makes him feel so loved.

But you know his true feelings as a quiet show functions as white noise in the background, his hand in yours prepping for yet another match. He appreciates the intimacy of silence together.

SHŌYŌ HINATA … watching One Piece together. Growing up, Shōyō didn’t have friends who engaged in his interests as deeply as he did. It took you 5 months into your relationship to realize he also liked the show because he was scared you might tease him.

It led to a deeper conversation about things you both liked and the two of you have been closer than ever. Engaging in each other’s hobbies even if you didn’t know what it was about.

Now, it’s a ritual you both do every Sunday when the new episode drops. It’s shared y/n & Shō time. A sacred pact of nerds that cannot be broken. He loves that you’ll share his love for life with him, even the nerdier things.

KOZUME KENMA … cooking dinner together. Even when he was playing volleyball in high school, Kozume did not care too deeply for his nutritional intake. Food was just food, a meal was another part of the day. Even with all the money he makes now, he's ultimately unfazed by high class food. Preferring those shitty frozen dinners he can make in the comfort of his apartment.

Then he met you on campus, and the day you cooked something for him he swore he would never eat anything again if it wasn’t made by you. Maybe that phrase, “made with love,” was true when it came to you.

Now he likes to help out, meal prepping here and there. He’s quite good at cutting up vegetables actually. He’ll watch or even stand behind you with his arms snaked around your waist at the stove observing.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA … work out. We all know volleyball is a big aspect of Ushi’s life. He’s constantly conditioning himself for the perfect physique. When he discovered that you had a similar passion for building and honing your body to its fullest capability, he was whipped.

He found it hard to be understood by others, but he really does just enjoy the simple things. Playing volleyball, working out, and coming home to you. It’s enjoyable to him to be able to do it with you and gives him greater motivation.

Every endurance run, you’re by his side and he certainly doesn’t mind altering his pace for you. It gets him a little worked up to see you sweating and out of breath though, but he’ll keep that to himself for now.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA … you guessed it, showering together. Because he grew up around sweaty boys playing volleyball all day, Kiyoomi knows not everyone is as concerned about their personal hygiene as he is. In a country full of Neanderthals, he wears the crown. But when he comes home from practice, there is only one thing he wants to do. Shower with you.

There’s something so intimate about you taking care of him in such a vulnerable space. He’s much bigger than you are, his broad shoulders from years of spiking looming over yours. Warm steam mixed with eucalyptus leaves fills his senses as you hum, scrubbing his body of any dirt from the outside world.

Your soft hands wash the tension from his body, your nails scrape against his scalp making him feel loved. He’ll never admit it but he says it’s because he likes to be clean, It’s truly because you’re the one cleaning him.

[roosterforme]

Champ, Sport, Buddy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You decide to try out a few new nicknames on your husband. He's quick to remind you that there is a short list of names that are acceptable.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Based on an ask. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds crazy, but I had the best sex of my life the other night. It actually worked."

You were leaning up against the bar at the Hard Deck on Friday night, waiting for Penny to hand you two of your favorite beers, and you couldn't help but overhear the women next to you chatting.

"What exactly did you do?" the brunette asked the redhead. 

The redhead grinned and said, "I called my husband 'Buddy' a few times, and he got annoyed at first, but then he fucked the absolute shit out of me."

"I can't believe it worked!" the brunette replied. 

You looked over to where Bradley was throwing darts, losing abysmally to Hangman. Your husband looked hot. He always looked hot. He was always good in bed, too. But you were curious.

"Excuse me," you said as you turned toward the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You called your husband 'Buddy' which led to amazing sex?"

"Yes!" gushed the redhead again. "Are you married? Dating someone?"

"I'm married," you told her, glancing again at Bradley as he raked his finger through his hair. He turned and caught your eye, winking across the room. 

"Listen, I'm sure you love your husband, but the male ego is fragile and can only handle so much."

You snorted and shrugged. "Makes sense."

"So all you have to do is play into his insecurities a tiny bit. Make him feel like you've pushed him into the friend zone until he snaps a little. He'll be dying to show you that he's not your 'Buddy', he's your lover."

You pondered that for a moment as you picked up your beers. "Thanks," you told both women. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck!" they called after you as you took both beers back to the dartboard.

"What took you so long?" Bradley rasped as you handed him one of the bottles. "I missed you."

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you kissed his scarred cheek. "I was just across the room."

He was looking at you like he was almost ready to take you home. "Across the room? That's too far, Baby Girl. I like it when you're right next to me. Where you belong." 

"Right here?" you asked, rubbing yourself against his side. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "Right there."

"The two of you are absolutely disgusting these days," Nat informed you as you kissed Bradley and tangled your fingers up in his hair. "I don't know who let you get married, but this has become distressing." She was smiling at both of you as Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"We'll just head out then," he told his friend, handing her the bottles of beer you just got. "Have a great night."

Then he scooped you up and carried you outside to the Bronco as you squealed. "You wanna do this here or at home, Baby Girl?" he murmured next to your ear as you clung to him and giggled. 

"Are you serious?"

He sucked on your neck while he unlocked the Bronco, and you ended up having sex on the backseat. You kept your bodies down low, and Bradley had one big palm planted over your mouth. When you looked up at him as you licked his hand, he groaned. 

"Baby Girl. Fuck, Sweetheart. You feel so perfect."

The sex was very good. It was always good. You liked the rush of knowing you could get caught. And when you came on his cock, Bradley filled you with his cum before quickly zipping up his jeans. He looked around, and then helped you climb into the front seat. Once you and he were both buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot to the sound of you and he erupting into laughter. 

------------------------

But the next day, you were still thinking about those two women from the bar. You wondered if it would work. Because if Bradley was leaving you satisfied nearly every single time, what would the next level be like? Getting him a little extra wound up was always fun for you. You shivered a bit as you thought about it while you made lunch. 

You glanced out the window to where he was pulling weeds in just some gym shorts, occasionally pausing to throw a tennis ball for Tramp. He looked sweaty and delicious, and you knew that he would walk back inside soon, ready for lunch and expecting you to take him to bed. Because he was irresistible to you like this, and he knew it. 

So you made him a grilled cheese sandwich with a little side of carrot sticks, and you waited. When you heard the sliding glass door open and the sound of his shoes on the floor, you took a deep breath to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. 

"Hey, Baby Girl," he grunted from the doorway. 

"Hey, Buddy. Can you get the hot sauce off the dining room table for me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, trying your best not to laugh. His brow was furrowed as he leaned against the wall with his forearm, sweaty and shirtless.

"Buddy?" he muttered under his breath before turning back to the dining room. You bit your lip hard, trying to get composure as he brought you the bottle and set it on the counter right next to your cutting board. He was very much in your personal space, palm planted on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to look at him. When you glanced up, he asked, "Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart?"

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head slightly. 

"Right," he whispered, taking his plate of lunch when you handed it to him. "Right." You watched Bradley wander into the dining room, and you followed him, pulling out a chair for yourself instead of sitting on his lap. 

After you ate quietly for a few minutes, he set his sandwich down. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, Champ?" you asked, taking a sip of lemonade to hide your smile as his eyes went wide.

"Champ? Baby Girl, are you mad at me?"

"No," you told him, finishing your sandwich as quickly as you could and standing up. 

He was immediately on your tail as you took your plate to the kitchen sink. "I don't want you to be upset with me," he said, caging you in at the sink. "Tell me what I did wrong." He looked a little worried as you shrugged. 

"I'm not upset," you promised. He leaned in and kissed you. It started out sweet, and slowly but surely it progressed to some tongue and his body pressing against yours. He was warm and sweaty, and you wanted more. But you broke the kiss, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I need to go get the mail, Sport."

"S-Sport?" he stuttered, following you for a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands planted on his hips. He looked like a confused puppy as you glanced back when you closed the front door, and then you laughed all the way to the mailbox.

"I called him Sport," you said, cackling to yourself as you emptied all the junk mail and bills out of the mailbox. You took the time to make your face neutral again as you walked back into the house, only to find that Bradley hadn't moved at all.

You were sorting the mail in your hands when he closed the distance to you. Apprehension was flowing off of him in waves. "What the hell did I do?" he rasped, and you looked up at him. 

"I already told you, Buddy. Nothing."

He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "So, I'm not doing enough? Are we- are we getting divorced or something, Sweetheart?"

You had to try so hard not to touch him or laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're calling me Buddy! And Sport!"

You bit your lip and shrugged again, taking in his muscular form and shocked expression. "I'm just trying out some new nicknames."

"New nicknames? The fuck? You never call me those things!"

"I just thought I might start calling you things that I would call a friend."

He took a staggering step away from you before gesturing to himself with both hands. "A friend? Do I look like your friend? I am not your friend."

"I thought you said you were my best friend, Champ," you whispered, trying to hold it together as the flushed color on his cheeks grew darker. 

"Of course you're my best friend, Baby Girl!"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Then I don't see the problem?"

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he closed the distance to you and grabbed you a little rough. "You don't see the problem, huh? You ride your friends' dicks like you ride mine? You moan for your friends when you're a horny mess?"

His hands were on your hips as he held you against his semi hard cock. "Well, no-" you gasped.

"No. You don't. I'm your husband. I'm not your friend."

You bit your lip and then whispered, "Okay, Buddy."

And then he snapped. His lips were on yours in the roughest kiss. You had to grab for his shoulders so you didn't trip as he pushed you back against the bannister. His body was heavy against yours as the wood dug into your back. "That's enough," he growled. "There are four names you call me, and Buddy isn't one of them. Neither is Champ. Neither is Sport."

"Four names?" you asked softly, moaning as he sucked on your neck until you squealed. And then he wedged his thigh between your legs, and you whined, "Roo!"

"Yeah, Baby Girl," he whispered against your neck as he started yanking your shirt up. "That's one of them. Keep going."

You looked up at him as he peeled your shirt off and unclasped your bra. When you started to ride his thigh, he brought his hands up to your nipples, stroking softly at first. Then he was dipping his head down and brushing you with his mustache until you cried out, "Bradley!"

"Yeah, I'm your Bradley. Keep going, Sweetheart," he commanded before sucking your nipple into his mouth and unzipping your denim shorts. You were whining so loudly as he ran his tongue in lazy circles and looked up at you. Then he kissed his way down to your rooster tattoo as your shorts and underwear slid down your legs. 

He licked your tattoo before turning his attention to your pussy. When he guided one thigh up over his bare shoulder, you met his eyes and whispered, "Daddy."

Your husband groaned, dragging his tongue and mustache through your wet slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. "Daddy!" you screamed, digging your fingers into his hair and scalp to keep yourself upright. The wood against your back was painful where every other part of my body was drowning in pleasure as Bradley ate your pussy. 

"Say it again," he demanded before licking from your opening to your clit over and over while you told him he was your Daddy. "I'm your Daddy," he growled, getting to his feet and scooping you up as well. You were whimpering as he carried you to the steps and set you down on your hands and knees. You could feel the warmth of his body behind you and over you as he gently kissed along your bare back until you were practically in tears, needing more. 

When you wiggled your butt back against his shorts, you could feel him pull his cock free. "You're forgetting one name," he rasped, dragging his tip through your wetness before resting himself right at your opening with a little pressure. Then one big hand wrapped around to your clit and the other found your breasts as he said, "I'll help you remember it."

And then he fucked you, so hard and so good, filling you with each fluid snap of his hips. He bottomed out until you were rocking forward against your hands braced on the steps. 

"Oh god, Roo!" you screamed. He was so rough and yet so fucking sweet when his lips met the back of your neck. 

Then he filled you all the way and stayed there, pushing a little harder still as he wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled. "Fuck!" you screamed as your back arched, pressing him to your g-spot until you were panting and ready to beg. "Please!"

He licked your neck and rasped, "I'm not Buddy. I'm Roo. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he whispered as you whined, stroking his fingers along your clit and yanking on your hair. "But you're forgetting one name."

He started fucking you again in earnest, fingers tapping your clit until you were babbling nonsense. The slap of his thighs against the backs of yours was mesmerizing as he hit every spot just right. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're my good girl. So smart," he grunted. "You know what to call me when I'm in charge. You know what to call me right now. You pinned it on my chest."

You were keening as you felt that first delicious clench around his cock, but when you didn't answer him, he eased his fingers away from your clit. "No!" you gasped.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting a little harder. "Fucking say it."

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Then his fingers were right there, and your pussy was clenching as you moaned every variation of his name as you came. But he kept it going, almost to the point of over stimulation, extending your orgasm until your eyes were filled with tears. His fingers were still stroking you as your legs shook, and then finally he was groaning your given name and grabbing your hips as he fucked you until he came in your pussy. 

He collected you in his arms, pulling you up so your back was against his sweaty chest, and he kissed your shoulder. You leaned back as you caught your breath, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "I never want to hear any of that shit again. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you told him with a smile playing on your lips. "Never again."

He kissed you and stroked his hands all over your body. It worked. The women from the bar were right. That was absolutely next level. 

Then Bradley pulled his cock from your pussy as you whined, and he slapped your ass. "Okay, Sport. Let's get a move on. We've got chores to do." You looked back at his smug expression as he pulled his shorts up. "You coming, Champ?"

"Bradley," you groaned, glaring at him. 

You managed to stand on your shaky legs and chase after him, but he scooped you up. "I got ya, Buddy," he whispered with a grin, and you smothered him with kisses until he couldn't talk.

-------------------------

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[bunnys-kisses]

yacht party

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, yacht sex, toto being a possessive old man, age difference (20s/50s), i'm sorry george russell, bimbo!reader, daddy kink, sugar baby au, jealousy, punishments, drinking, spanking, choking, doggy style, oral sex (toto receives), unprotected sex,

bunny says: i got messages saying more toto! so here it is!

you could never say no to a boat party! being on toto's expensive yacht was something that you'd deny yourself the privilege to be on. so after monaco you were happy to be out of those pretty dresses that toto often dressed you in and into something a little more comfortable.

that came in the form of a white bikini with a heart clasp showed right down the middle of your breasts and did nothing but make you look like the little slut you were.

there was a reason why toto kept you on a tight leash. but even he liked to show you off a little. you hung around your older boyfriend as he talked to those he had invited.

you were just the pretty arm candy, your nose often buried in toto's arm as he kept his hand around your waist.

"in a moment, liebling." he said as he held you closer and continued his conversation. you snaked out of his grasp however when you saw george come through the crowd with a bottle of something expensive in hand.

"georgie!" you squealed as you went up to him. you threw yourself at him and gave him a huge hug. he caught you with ease and you kicked out your legs as you were lifted.

sometimes you were just too innocent for your own good.

when you let go you beamed at him for a moment. you chirped, "oh wine!" before you took the bottle from him, "thank you so much, georgie!"

george couldn't look away as you scampered away from him to say hello to someone else and put the bottle with the rest. his eyes were glued to your ass as it bounced. the white bikini made you look almost innocent (he was lying to himself).

toto chuckled as he leaned in to the other man, "like what you see?"

george swallowed, "i'm so sorry! i've just never seen her so excited before. i really am sorry!" he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"she's a pretty sight isn't she?" toto couldn't be too upset with george. he trusted george, george was his superstar on the track! so it would be a little curel to let something like jealousy curl up in the older man's stomach.

you on the other hand would be dealt with.

toto would feel controlling if he said that he had rules for you. rules made you seem like you were a dog to be trained rather than a little girlfriend who was just a little too excitable.

they were guidelines, suggestions with consequences. he believed that good behaviour should be rewarded. and the rewards weren't cheap, so there was an expectation to be managed that were guided by a set of... rules...

toto found you on your second glass of wine and a little tipsy in the kitchen. it was easy for him to crowd your space, he was almost two heads taller than you. and his presence was often grounding for you, like a big shadow to protect you.

so it was easy for you to fall into your arms and giggle as you rubbed your face all over him. toto chuckled and took the glass from you. you looked up at him with big innocent eyes.

"hello, daddy." you had a cat's smile on your lips as you looked at him.

his hand was on your lower back, "do you remember our little agreement, liebling?" his tone wasn't harsh, but it was a little stern. he held you against him as you swayed from side to side.

you nodded, "yes, daddy, uh huh." you were a giggly mess.

he cupped your face, "did you do this for attention, little one? i saw how you threw yourself at russell. and i saw how he looked at you when you ran away. maybe i should bring him over next time?" he knew that he'd never actually do that, not without a few stiff drinks in him. he was a dirty, possessive old man with too much money in his account.

you replied, your glossed lips in a 'o' shape, "oh no daddy, not at all." you held onto him a little tighter.

he leaned down and whispered in your ear, "come now, let's get you sobered up." and you knew that meant going to the bedroom on the yacht that had a lock on the door. and the sound proofing.

this wasn't the first time that toto punished you for being a "dumme kleine schlampe." nor would it be the last. toto stayed close to you like a shadow as you tried not to wear your anticipation on your face. the bedroom was nicer than some you lived in and quite big considering you were on a boat.

toto gave you a nudge to get inside before he looked around and closed the door. he locked it and turned towards you. he looked very nice in the crisp white button-up tucked into beige pants. his shoes were shined to perfection (you'd know, your last punishment was to shine every last pair to his liking!). and there you were on the bed in strappy heels and a white bikini.

you pouted at him and said, "i wasn't doing anything bad!"

he sighed and took his belt out of the loop of his pants. he put it down on the chair nearby before he approached the bed. it was a shame that he had to punish his baby girl during a party. you should be your sweet self. but, rules were rules.

"remember rule number twelve, kleine hure? no throwing yourself onto men who aren't me, you should've waited for me and we both could've greeted george. but instead he got a full view of your whorish little body as you ran off." he sat on the bed beside you and he grabbed you by the back of the head.

you blushed as you looked at him before you reached for the front of his pants. you undid them and got his shirt out of the waistband. you swallowed as you took his impressive cock out.

you measured it once because you thought he was lying. he said he was a modest six inches to make you less scared. he was in-fact almost nine inches. just shy of the threshold, even when painfully erect. while most overcompensated, he lied so you wouldn't be so nervous to take him.

you licked your lips before you placed your lips on the head. his fingers knotted in your hair as he moved your head up and down his cock. drool went down your chin as so much of his cock was crammed in your throat.

you somewhat believed that toto wolff ruined your gag reflex, that the blunt tip of his cock had battered it down until you could almost take every inch.

there was little time to adjust to his cock in your mouth before you were deep throating it. it throbbed in your mouth as your were moved up and down on his cock like the toy you were.

"filthy little thing. i'm starting to think you like being punished. maybe i should open the door and you can put on a little show for anyone who comes by. maybe next time you act like a little slut, i'll pass you thought all of mercedes from bottom to top, let them fill every hole they want. maybe that'll give you the attention you want, you little greedy whore. even when you take my cock you still want more." his voice was sharp and its stabbing tone let warmth in your gut.

your pussy ached for him, he was right. you were greedy. a little whore for his cock, his attention and anything else he'd give you. from kisses in the paddock to flowers after dinner to nine inches stuffed in your poor abused cunt.

you looked up at him and tried to pull your head off to tell him something, but his grasp was tight. it was unrelenting as you were forced to continue to orally pleasure him.

there was a thrum in your head as you could hear the party outside the room. his words melted in your brain, leaving it fuzzy and your body hot. you yearned for him in a way that made you want to yell.

but you couldn't yell with his cock in your mouth. it was heavy in your throat, you could taste the salt on his skin as the precum almost made you choke as it oozed down your throat.

"i've given you so much, little one." he said with a hint of disappointment, "why can't you just behave? let daddy take care of you, but instead you have to be a little whore. you made poor george all flustered by acting the way you did. that's not fair is it, liebling?"

you maintained eye contact and shook your head as much as you could. he tapped the side of your face before he pushed you as deep as it could go down your throat. it choked you slightly, but that only made the rush to your core more intense.

the pressure in your throat and the slight cut off of oxygen made you see stars behind your eyes when you closed them. toto rocked his cock up into your mouth, the tight feeling around his length was painfully erotic.

he had spent so much time shaping you into the perfect liebling. the perfect little thing that always got him all riled up. from your cute little behind to those soft breasts, your cheery smile and those precious eyes. he pulled his cock out of your mouth so you could breath and rubbed his wet length up against your face.

you whimpered and tried to move away, but his hand in your hair kept you still. feeling your own spit against your face was a weird feeling.

"be good, liebling. i know you can be." he said he tapped his cock against your face. you whimpered before your head was moved to choke on it once more.

the pleasure was felt in your core, your pussy clenched when your throat stung. it was painfully erotic and you yearned for more. toto thought you looked like a doll in the cute bikini that he picked out for you.

he was thinking maybe next time to get you like a collar or something. a little tag that had his name, address and phone number. just in case you strayed a little too far. can't have his beautiful angel got lost on him!

the debauched sight of you made his cock throb and when he was about to cum, he pulled your mouth of his cock and finished all over your sweet face. painted white like the bikini you wore. globs of cum were in your hair all the way down to your chin.

marked as his.

you whimpered and tried to open your eyes but cum threatened to get in it. he wiped it away from your forehead and pushed his thumb in your mouth to lick it off.

"good girl." he purred. he then watched you get it all off your face and into your mouth. your movements were slow as you collected the cum onto your fingers then put them in your mouth.

the salty taste was heavy in your mouth but the stickiness on your face remained, the glossy leftovers of the pearly cum were drying on your cheeks.

toto just thought you looked more angelic. he got you on your stomach with your hips raised. then with a little help from you, got the bikini off of you. he tossed them over in a corner somewhere you won't be finding for the rest of the night.

you were going to be in time out for the rest of the party, young lady.

he got out of his own attire, they remained a little more central in front of the bed before he climbed into bed with you. he rested on his heels behind you and then leaned forward to wrap a strong arm around you.

he laid down the first smack across your ass and your toes curled. you whimpered, then another was laid. then another, followed by two more in quick succession.

the pain in your backside bloomed and toto found you responses to it very erotic. his praises were interwoven with degrading words about your character. you were his beautiful princess, but also his whorish little girl who he'd happily throw to the dogs.

"leave you tied up against russell's car, thighs spread open. tell everyone that you're a good luck chair for the race." he landed a harder slap and the sound rang through the room, "a beautiful fall from grace, i wonder how many loads you'd take before nothing could fit. but you'd always make room for me." he raked his nails across your bruise forming on your cheek.

you almost kicked out your legs from the sensation but he pressed his nude body against yours. he kept you pinned under him, his wet cock painfully close to your pussy. one wrong move and he'd sink it with ease.

you were soaked like a fountain with your need for him. it was almost leaving a painful feeling in your gut or a carnal want. he teased you a little before he sank it all in, it only took one stroke before he was bottomed out in your cunt.

the stretch burned as you felt almost nine inches of cock fill you up. you gripped onto the bed under you and arched your back. you let out a shaky breath as the feeling of it all was a little overwhelming.

"beautiful, little thing." he purred, "perfect for your daddy. i think you're a good girl." he said, "you just act out because you want my attention solely on you." he gripped your thighs and began to thrust his hips. he loomed over you as he had you face down and ass up in the bed.

the party outside was quieter than the thumping of your blood in your ears. you felt light headed but also that your skull was made of lead. the sounds of your fucking filled the room but didn't go past it. your little slice of paradise while out on the water.

everyone else was drinking, smoking and doing god knows what else, meanwhile the host of the party was too busy making sure that you didn't forget what it felt like having his cock pushed up into your cervix.

"please, daddy!" you whimpered as you arched your back and clawed against the bed. you greedy slut, you still wanted more of him! you panted with your mouth wide open, gasping for air as he pushed it out of your lungs with every hard thrusts.

his voice was in your ear, filling your head as he kept thrusting, "good girls stay under me. all open and ready for my cock. i know i'd make the paddock for you, but i know you'd never run off from me, kaninchen." he laughed.

you whimpered as you felt your eyes flutter shut, your brain slowing down to process all the pleasure in your body. you felt him practically rearrange your insides with each of his movements.

you rubbed your face against the bed pathetically, and his grip only tightened. orgasm was quick to grab you, you felt the pleasure up to your ears and you clenched around his cock as you coated it even more in your wetness.

then you were just a panting, whiny mess. no words came out, only pathetic little noises as he continued to slam his hips against your ass. you were such a good girl, a dumb little slut, but a good girl! he continued to bully your cunt with his hard thrusts, until they started to stagger as the pleasure clouded his brain.

with one last hard thrust, he finished inside of you. you felt most of your body go limp as the weight of his cum filled your poor little pussy.

the older man pulled out and got you settled into bed. he then pulled the covers over your exhausted body. the last thing he saw before he pulled the covers was globs of his cum oozing out onto your thigh. he was a bit proud of that.

he found his clothes and tried to straighten them out as much as possible. his little girl would be out of commission for the night. he left the room and closed the door behind him before he re-entered the party. he saw george once more and slapped the man on the back and leaned in to him.

"what happened to-"

toto just smiled, "you know how she is george, all that energy and then she has to lie down. the wine didn't help either, good choice by the way."

george nodded and thanked the man before he walked off to get a drink of his own. the smell of sweaty hung for a moment, but george sniffed his collar to make sure it wasn't him. the scent was familiar, like sweat and pussy. <3

[emmy19-05]

Come Back To Me

Leila Ouahabi x Female Reader

Summary: You are moving clubs and Leila (your girlfriend of 4 years) and you get into an argument about it which leads to you not speaking to each other.

*TW: EMOTIONAL*

Warning!! Contains: High angst, co-dependence (if you squint), arguing

Word count: 2.1k

3 years earlier…

You and Leila are both sitting on the couch watching your favorite Christmas movie together on Christmas Eve “The Grinch” You look at Leila in her eyes and you smile at her as she smiles back at you and she says.

“I love you so much. I’m so happy I get to be with you on Christmas.” 

As you smile at her you say back

“I love you too, with all my heart. I am also so happy that I get to spend this holiday with you as well.”

She kisses you slowly and passionately.

 Present…

You begin to pack your bags, you are leaving to go to Wolfsburg on a new contract. Ever since you got the offer from Wolfsburg , Leila has been avoiding you. Manchester City offered to extend your contract, but you denied it because you Wolfsburg offered you a contract too good to pass up. As you pack Leila sits on what used to be your guy’s bed for the past 3 years and now it’s just your bed because Leila refuses to lay with you, and watches you pack. She looks sadder than you’ve ever seen her. You have been dating for almost 4 years and from the first day you two met, it was love at first sight for the both of you. You are so sad you have to leave her. Leila doesn’t know, but you are going to break up with her because long distance that far is almost impossible to do long term, and especially since it seems like Leila is avoiding you anyways it’s obvious she doesn’t want to be with you. You decide to get it over with, because it is bound to happen rather you like it or not.

“Leila we need to talk” You say “You can’t keep avoiding me every time I try to talk to you.”

“About what? How you’re leaving me? Do you know how hard long distance is?” Leila says

“Yes, that’s actually what I wanted to talk about.” 

Leila turns her head sharply and looks at you and says

“Y/N what are you talking about don’t tell me you-”

You start to cry and say 

“Leila, I love you so much and I will for the rest of my life, but we can’t be together, not on these terms. You won’t even talk to me. How will we last hundreds of miles apart if you won’t even speak and have a conversation about us without storming away?”

Leila gets up

“Baby, please don’t do this, don't do this to me, to us.” She says

“Leila we can’t keep doing this ever since I told you I was going to Wolfsburg, you’ve spoken maybe 5 words a day to me, if we get into a fight when i’m thousands of miles from you, how do you think i’ll feel if you go no contact or ignore my text and calls because we got into an argument? It’s not like I can come home and talk to you, we’ll be over 700 miles apart for christ sake.

Leila starts to tear up, but wipes her tears away with her jacket sleeve quickly, but she’s too late and her tears start to pour down her face.

“Ok, fine, what do you want then? To break up? Because I’m willinging to put in effort for us, but you’re not, so don’t blame this on me when you put this upon yourself by signing to a club who is across the continent even though Man City offered you to renew your contract.

“Leila, baby, please can we not-” You start to say, then Leila cuts you off.

“Please, don’t, just don’t call me that, I can't.  it hurts too much”

“Leila I do want-” You begin to say, then to be cut off again.

“Please just don’t, if you don’t want to continue this relationship that’s fine, but don’t you dare say you want me when you aren’t fighting for us, but I am.” Leila says

You begin to cry harder feeling like shit about yourself, you begin to think is this the right call? Are you making the right decision by moving across the world away from the women you love as well as all your friends and family for a team that you know nothing about? It’s too late now you think. I already booked the flight and am going to sign the contract in less than a week.

“Leila, I can’t do this right now. I wanted to have a civil conversation about our future, but you keep shutting down, I am sorry this is happening, but it’s for the-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘it’s for the best’ when it’s not… 4 years down the drain for a club you won’t even like.” Leila says

You see this conversation isn’t going anywhere so you say

“Leila I love you and I am just as heartbroken as you are, but this needs to happen for me to keep sane while in Germany, I simply cannot be feeling like you hate me 24/7 because I moved, I simply cannot do it.”

Leila cries and storms out of the room and grabs her keys and slams the door as she walks out of your apartment you share together.

You feel sick to your stomach as you return to packing.

1 year earlier…

You and Leila are watching Chelsea vs. Arsenal and Leila looks at you and says

“Who are you rooting for?”

You say “Obviously Chelsea come on now, is that even a question, what about you? And don’t you dare say Arsenal or we are breaking up” you joke

“Guess we are breaking up. London is red!” Leila says and you two laugh. Then you say

“Oh no I can’t be with an Arsenal supporter” you say while you’re cracking up laughing, obviously joking around.

“Leila, I’m joking I love you, even if you’re an Arsenal supporter.”

“Love you too mi amor, don’t worry Chelsea is winning haha” She says

“Why am I scared to go against either of these teams though?” You say

“Because they are very strong teams, baby. That’s why”

You both begin to laugh, happy that you get to spend the rest of your life together.

Present…

You and Leila are officially broken up. Leila hasn’t come out of the guest room in the apartment in almost 2 days, only coming out once to shower and twice to grab some food from the kitchen and heading back to her room. Since Leila is refusing to look let alone talk to you. You ask your sister to take you to the airport. About 25 minutes before your sister is going to pick you up, Leila comes out of the room and slowly walks up to you, she is dressed in something nicer than the different pajamas sets she was wearing the past few days and she begins to say

“Are you almost ready to go?”

You look at her strangely and say

“What do you mean? Where are we going”

“To the airport?” She asks as if it’s a question.

“Leila, you wouldn’t talk to me, my sister is taking me to the airport, I thought you wouldn’t want to take me anymore.” You frown

She looks angrier than you've ever seen her.

“What the fuck? Y/N, you specifically asked me to take you a few weeks ago and I said yes, plans changed, yes? Why didn’t you tell me?” Leila says

“Leila, I tried knocking on the guest room door probably 15 times in the past few days trying to talk to you.”

“Oh god, I…I-” Leila starts to cry and runs into the room and you hear the click of the lock.

You look at your phone and your sister texted you over 10 minutes ago. She was in the lobby of the apartment and was waiting for you so she could drop you off at the airport. You don’t know what to do, and you know that Leila will never open the door especially for you, so you do what you really don’t want to do, you open the door and leave.

1 month ago

“Leila, guess what I have great news!” You say

“What happened, baby?” Leila says

“The team just called me; Wolfsburg offered me $2 million to sign a contract for them until 2027!!” You say excitedly. “I think I am going to go, that’d be so cool right? This is a once in a lifetime experience.”

Leila’s smile drops almost instantly and you say 

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy for me?” You say

Leila looks sad and frown and begins to say

“You’re leaving? What about me? What about us?” 

“It’s ok, baby, we’ll figure it out” You smile at her sadly.

Leila gets up without saying anything and walks away looking sadder than ever. 

Present…

You are going down the elevator with your luggage and you are tearing up trying to not let the tears stream down your face, because you don’t want your sister to know what’s going on between you and Leila. You say hi to your sister and thankfully doesn’t say anything about your tear stained cheeks and you then pack your luggage into the car. When you get to the airport, you look at the text you sent to Leila during the car ride there. 

Me: I love you, I’m sorry it had to end this way. Seen 12 minutes ago

You text her again

Me: Leila, maybe we can see each other during the Olympics. It's coming up in a few months, no? Seen

Me:  Leila, sweetheart. Seen

You decide to stop texting her for now because she’s obviously not going to answer.

3 days later…

You’ve been sad since you got to Germany, because Leila hasn’t texted you back it just says “Seen” every time you text her. You read through your recent text with her even though they are only one sided. 

Me: Just arrived. Just thought you’d like to know. Seen

Me: Leila, please answer. I don’t want to end on bad terms with you. Seen

Me:  I am signing the contract tomorrow, wish you were here. Seen

Me:  I miss you. Seen

You sent those all within the past 12 hours and tomorrow morning you are signing the contract with Wolfsburg. You begin to feel tears dripping down your face. You miss Leila so much that your heart hurts. Then you hear a knock on your door. You expect it’s your sister, because she is staying with you for a few days, until you get settled into your hotel. Since moving was a little last minute, you are still trying to find an apartment to move into. You miss living with Leila, nothing will compare to it, you feel. The knocking occurs again and you start to get annoyed because you know she has one of the two key cards to open the hotel door with, but she continues knocking. You pull the door open roughly, annoyed that she wouldn’t use her key card and instead, making you get out of your sorrows to open the door for her. Then you realize it isn’t your sister. It’s Leila. She’s here. Leila’s here, you begin to cry harder than you already were before she got here. She looks at you and smiles sadly and says

“Mi amor, baby, why are you crying?” She walks into the hotel room and closes the door, you run towards her and hug her. Home. You think to yourself. And then bawl your eyes out. You missed her so much. You begin trying to speak but all that is coming out is random words.

“Miss- missed you, lo- love you so much”

“Shh it’s ok, sweet girl, I missed you too. it’s ok, you’re ok. I love you too, "she says.

While kissing your face and neck sweetly she whispers sweet sentiments into your ear making you feel loved and wanted and you wonder why you passed this up, wondering what you are going to do without her when she has to leave.

Leila looks at you and says 4 words:

“Come back to me”.

SEQUEL IS COMING WITHIN THE NEXT FEW DAYS!!

[lw6xwoso]

Lazy mornings| Leah Williamson

You had been well past ready to get up.

You didn’t know quite exactly how long you had been there lying awake. But you figured it was long enough as the sun peeked through the blinds reflecting onto the wall, from the angle of light you figured it was likely at least half past nine. But you couldn’t see the clock from where you lay. Your bladder was only short of bursting and there was a rumble in your stomach as you thought of what to whip up for breakfast and hell, you would murder a cappuccino now.

Still you didn’t find yourself getting up from your spot.

Your head moved to look at the sleeping figure beside you. she’d fallen asleep with her hand on your breast. Her mouth was slightly ajar soft snores tumbling out. Leah could always sleep like the dead on a Saturday morning.

You looked up towards the ceiling. Feeling the weight of her hand holding you there as though even in sleep, she feared loosing you. It was sweet. But god, you really had to pee.

Slowly, as to avoid waking her, you rolled to your side, intending to swing your feet over the edge of the bed. Her hand slipped down to rest over your navel as you did. Reflexively without waking, Leah let out a soft sigh, wrapped her arm around your waist and tugged you backwards against her. Your body moulded against hers snuggly, ass pressed firm against her pelvis. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest against your back, feeling each exhale ticking the hair at your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as a smile stretched across your lips.

You snuggled back further into her embrace your bladder could wait a little longer.

[mctwinkdom]

The Norris siblings are out of this world